Page 36 of Rules for Ruin

“Riding?” Miss Whitbread asked.

“Target practice,” Effie said, taking a sip of her drink.

She was only half in jest. The Academy had focused little effort on equestrienne activities. Horses were exceedingly expensive. Whereas archery, knife-throwing, and fencing required only the use of non-sentient implements that could be shared by all.

“The gentlemen sometimes enjoy target-shooting at Rawdon Court,” Miss Compton said. “We ladies never participate. It is unbecoming to be always competing.”

Effie refrained from pointing out that they were surely competing now. “How do you occupy your time instead?”

“With music and flower arranging,” Miss Compton replied. “Rawdon is at its most beautiful in the spring.”

“This house is quite lovely, too,” Effie said. “I’m given to understand it has an extensive library.”

“Does it?” Miss Whitbread asked with a dubious expression. “I never noticed.”

“My father has a complete set of thirteenth-century books.” Miss Compton adjusted the fluttering lace trimming on her neckline. “He collects old texts. It is his prevailing passion.”

“I should like to see them, given the opportunity. Perhaps after dinner?” Effie raised her glass to her lips with studied casualness. “Unless it would disturb Lord Compton’s work.”

“Why should it?” Miss Compton asked.

“I recall he was conducting charitable business there during the ball last week,” Effie said. It had been something to do with Gabriel. Lord Compton had mentioned it when Effie had been introduced to him. “I daresay there are many such demands on his time.”

Miss Compton brushed the concern aside. “Papa never conducts important business in his library. That’s only where he receives the begging public. Clergymen, social reformers, and the like, who come to plead for his aid. It’s his study where he deals with affairs of true consequence.”

Effie gave her an alert look.

“But not tonight,” Miss Compton went on. “Mama has absolutely forbidden him from slipping away from the party since I will be singing.”

Effie mentally abandoned her plans to investigate the desk in the library. The monstrous piece of furniture could wait for another day. Tonight, she would search Lord Compton’s study instead. Wherever that was.

“If you wish to see the library, I will show it to you when the ladies retire after dinner,” Miss Compton offered with the grandiosity of a medieval princess bestowing her largesse on a ragged serf. “But we cannot linger. I must have time to prepare for my solo.”

“Thank you,” Effie said. “I shall look forward to it.”

Rising from her sofa on unsteady feet, Miss Whitbread teetered to the silk-draped window. She peered down at the street. “I knew I’d heard carriages. Lord, but it’s a crush out there.”

“Shall we go downstairs?” Lady Lavinia asked.

“Not yet,” Miss Compton said. “Let my parents welcome the guests. I shall see them in the salon.”

Lady Lavinia leaned back on her sofa with a sigh as she finished her drink. “Your father and mother have a marriage to aspire to. She is one of the most acclaimed hostesses in town, and he is so handsome and commanding.”

“Handsome?” Miss Whitbread giggled from the window.

“He was,” Miss Compton snapped, provoked. “Only look at his portrait in the gallery at Rawdon. He could have had anyone.”

“So could your mother have had,” Miss Whitbread said. “The fortune her father left her was nearly as great as mine. And don’t tell me it doesn’t weigh with a gentleman.”

“Do you agree, Miss Flite?” Lady Lavinia asked. “Is a fortune enough of an inducement for a gentleman seeking a wife?”

“It may not be sufficient for marriage,” Miss Compton pronounced, “but it’s obviously necessary. No man of our acquaintance would wed a church mouse.”

Effie felt the scrutiny of the young ladies fixing upon her, equal parts curious and mean-spirited. They were plainly eager to know if she possessed a fortune. Under other circumstances, it would be impolite for them to ask outright, but champagne was involved, and they were in a dressing room, not a drawing room.

Miss Whitbread was the first to summon the courage. “I expect Lord and Lady Belwood have settled a goodly sum on you,” she said. “She and her husband have no children of their own, and childless people must find some person on whom to bestow their fortune. As you’re the only child of Lady Belwood’s closest friend—”

“Oh, do be quiet, Patricia,” Lady Lavinia interrupted. “Must you give voice to every vulgar thought in your head?”