“Yes, what do I make of it. Well, I think this is one of those cases where a very small thing has been blown up to a much bigger thing. Unnecessarily. Lady Verity Nicolet mentioned in passing that she wondered about whether fish might see as well on land as they do in water.”
“I see. I’ve wondered that on occasion myself. Perhaps the various species’ different shapes and structures of eyes have to do with typical depth? Meaning how much light is generally in their milieu?”
Henry was rather startled by the comment. He’d not thought anybody wondered about it. But perhaps he had not carefully considered the matter? It seemed Sir Joseph had.
“What should we do?” Sir Joseph asked. “I do not like that The Royal Society has been caught up in this.”
The Royal Society. So far, Henry had not given a thought to The Royal Society. The society could weather this storm. Lady Verity perhaps could not.
“I think it would be wise to say nothing,” Henry said. “If we make some statement about it, it just puts more fuel on the fire. It is a little bit of teasing and will not take up people’s attention for long.”
That was partly true, Henry thought. Thetonwould not occupy itself with this print overlong, he did not think. As for Lady Verity herself, that was a much different matter. For a lady to be named Lady Fiction! It was almost as bad as Lady Jersey’s nickname—Silence—for her habit of incessant talking. Lady Jersey’s nickname had stuck, people delighted in it. Would it be the same for Lady Verity? Would she be known as Lady Fiction forevermore? What was he to do to fix this?
Sir Joseph nodded thoughtfully. “I am of the same mind myself. Starve the thing of air, as it were.”
Henry nodded. Really, though, he’d like to choke the thing to death. And possibly choke Westerby too.
“Nicolet, you said?” Sir Joseph said.
Henry nodded. “The Duke of Pelham’s daughter. One of his daughters, anyway.”
“Let us hope he does not feed the gossip with too much air, then. I understand that gentleman is rather…unpredictable.”
The duke. Good God, what would the duke do about this?
*
If Verity couldhave escaped the drawing room before Lady Marchfield got in it, she would have. It occurred to her that drawing rooms should have a secret door at one end where one might make a quick exit.
As it was, she was trapped.
Lady Marchfield waved the print around dramatically. Verity had already seen it in all its horrifying glory. Lord Dashlend had located a copy and sent it over with a note. As far as he could gather, Lord Wembly had inquired of Lord Westerby whether there had been any prior research on the vision of fish because Verity was looking into the matter. Westerby had repeated it to somebody or other and it had taken off from there. Lord Dashlend did not think Westerby had anything to do with the print, as that gentleman did not get up to such things.
“I’ve said and I’ve said and I’ve said it would come to this,” Lady Marchfield cried.
“It’s only a joke, Aunt,” Winsome said in Verity’s defense.
Itwasonly a joke. But a cutting joke and a nickname, Lady Fiction, that might stay with her forever. Why had she ever invented such a story? Or any of the stories she’d invented? It would be far better for people to know she was stupid rather than a liar.
“A joke?” Lady Marchfield said, her tone expressing her outrage. “Do you suppose Lord Wembly will be laughing over it?”
Winsome glanced at Verity, as they both knew Lord Wembly had not laughed over it. He’d not come to Lady Jellerbey’s candlelight picnic because of it. He’d essentially washed his hands of her, and she was heartbroken over it. She would not allow her aunt to see that, though. The very last thing she needed was her aunt gloating that she’d been right all along. Perhaps she had been right, but Verity did not wish to hear about it.
There was a quick knock on the drawing room doors and Thomas came in, looking almost frightened. Verity had expected a tea tray but what, or ratherwho, he brought in could not have been further from that comforting item.
