Page 27 of Wit, Wiles and Courtship

Camilla murmured her agreement. The solution to her friend’s unhappy predicament presented itself, and she studied Bernice, a smile lurking. “You will simply have to marry. Then you will be mistress of your own household. Know of any candidates?”

Bernice’s ivory complexion was not generally given to color, but her cheeks gave a good show of it then. Lips closed, she shook her head again.

“Perhaps one will come along. You are only Sophia’s age, and as shy as she has always been, she is now married. And rules her own home with an iron fist,” Camilla joked, laughing at the idea.

Bernice joined her in her mirth, but only briefly before her face fell. “She is also beautiful.”

Camilla was unable to return an answer because Lady Milton entered the drawing room and exclaimed at the ill luck of not having been at home earlier to receive their visitor. She assured Lady Milton that she had spent a delightful hour with Bernice and had not minded it at all. The open conversation they had shared was all they were to have, because Lady Milton began to discuss plans for Thursday night’s card party in a way that gave no one else a chance to speak. That was, the party that would take place if they could convince Lord Pembroke to join them, along with his gentlemen friends.

A note delivered by messenger from Bernice informed Camilla that the card party scheduled for the following evening was to happen. There would be a group of Sir Humphrey and Lady Milton’s friends, and they would set up their own table for card games with a separate table for the younger set. Meanwhile, Lord Pembroke had graciously accepted to come, along with his friends, Mr. Pollard, Mr. Wilmot, and Mr. Weatherby. In addition, Bernice wrote, her sister Abigail had suddenly claimed she was free after all. She would come with her husband and a young protégée of hers, a Miss Alice Winkley. Lady Joanna was also invited if she wished it, for she was of an age to enjoy such a thing. Bernice added as an aside that it would provide the younger set an even number if her sister was willing to condescend to coming.

So Pembroke would attend after all. Camilla brooded over the news, unsure of how she felt. Surprised, surely, for she had not thought he would come. It would certainly make the party more interesting to have him there with his friends. It would also force her to be at her wittiest, for she could not let him win any encounter they had, whether it be cards or debate. She wondered what had caused him to accept the invitation when he neither knew Lady Milton well, nor was the evening’s entertainment likely to be one that would appeal to him and his friends.

Joanna, who had no objection to going, and Camilla set off by carriage accompanied by a footman, and they arrived at the Miltons’ residence at seven o’clock. It was warm enough that they needed only a light cloak, even in the evening, which Camilla removed in the entrance and handed to the footman. They were presented to those assembled, which included mainly Lord and Lady Milton’s friends. After greeting them formally, and Bernice more warmly, Camilla exchanged a cordial greeting with Abigail, before being presented to Abigail’s friend.

“How do you do,” Miss Winkley whispered.

Miss Winkley was very becoming, with large, innocent blue eyes and angelic, guinea-colored ringlets. With such a timid greeting, she reminded Camilla forcibly of Sophia. It gave her a measure of compassion for the girl, for she knew it was not easy to live with such shyness. She could not but wonder whatever had possessed Abigail to befriend her, for Miss Winkley was her opposite.

A hearty knock sounded on the door, and the servant opened it to show in the first of the gentlemen to arrive—Lord Pembroke. Camilla hid all signs of nervousness behind a blank expression as though the sight of him affected her not at all.

“That is Lord Pembroke, an earl,” Abigail whispered in the ear of her friend, which Camilla was close enough to hear. “I am quite certain he will be taken with you, and what a victory it will be when he singles you out.”

Miss Winkley blushed and disclaimed, looking almost alarmed at the idea of Lord Pembroke paying any attention to her at all. Camilla watched him greet the host and hostess, then pay a most gratifying attention to Bernice. That courtesy was to his credit, she admitted begrudgingly. He never overlooked or snubbed someone unless they deserved it.

“You will see how I shall raise you up in Society, so that you make the most splendid match,” Abigail went on quietly.

“You are truly too good, Mrs. Quarles,” the ingenue whispered back.

Camilla had been so interested in this exchange—perhaps because it had to do with efforts to secure Lord Pembroke—that she had nearly put the man himself out of her thoughts until he was bowing before her.

“Lady Camilla, I trust you are prepared to handle your disappointment over losing whatever card game we settle on, for you know I excel at cards.”

“I am not accustomed to disappointment, my lord, for I seldom lose.” She brought her eyes to his. “This will give you the opportunity to practice dignity in defeat.”

“There is no dignity in defeat—at least not that I have experienced.”

“I understand,” she said with an air of faux compassion. “You are unaccustomed to behaving with dignity. Defeat you will soon learn, however.” She experienced a flush of delight when he nearly laughed and had to frown to hide it.

“We shall see.” His look cut into her as he leaned down for her ears alone. “I should have you know I never lose, Lady Camilla.”

Breathless from the interaction, she tried to gather her composure while he greeted the trembling Miss Winkley. Although he was kind to her, he did not appear markedly struck by her beauty. That was a satisfying thought—until he greeted Joanna warmly in rather the way he used to greet her. Jovial and smiling.

“Lady Joanna, how delighted I am to see that you’ve joined the party this evening. Are you out this year?”

She shook her head. “I did not wish it. Perhaps next season. When last I saw you in September, you had spoken of your intention to buy a Thoroughbred to add to your stables. Did you find one?”

“Yes, before Christmas. I purchased a handsome gelding from Gerry Wilmot’s uncle. What I think should interest you, however, is the set of matched bays I bought at Tattersall’s a week ago, which are the envy of everyone who has seen them.” There was a twinkle in his eye.

“Indeed! What makes them so?”

The discussion fell into more equine details than Camilla cared to follow. Besides, he had preferred her sister’s conversation to hers, so she need not hang upon his every word. She turned to Bernice and quietly complimented her on the success of having every invitation accepted.

The other gentlemen arrived a short while later, and soon the party was complete. They were all displaying their best behavior, as if they had no greater joy than to be in attendance that evening, which raised them in Camilla’s estimation. Perhaps one of them—besides Pembroke—might be a suitable prospect to consider for encouraging a courtship.

Mr. Pollard belonged to Bernice in her mind, though she would not likely have considered him even if he did not. His features were too commonplace, his demeanor too serious to suit her. Mr. Weatherby was handsome enough and seemed to possess a genial personality. It was difficult to discern whether his thoughts ran deeply, for his conversation never rose above commonplaces. If that was all there was to him, she could not consider him in the light of a husband. Mr. Wilmot was cheerful and the most like Lord Pembroke in character. But she simply did not know him or any of them well enough.

Servants brought drinks to the guests who sat or stood in pockets around the room. None had as yet sat down at the green baize tables laid out. Camilla had never met Abigail’s husband before, and she eyed him curiously now. He had certainly been considered a catch last year when one examined his wealth and position. However, he seemed less like a man newly wed and in love, and more like a husband who had married with cold purpose, for he showed signs of impatience with his wife. Camilla knew a marriage like this was not something she wanted.