Page 60 of Lyon of Least Resistance

“Georgiana?” James growled. His sister rolled her eyes, lifted her glass, then lowered it smartly to the table.

The meal began. Cordelia winced each time her spoon scraped along the bowl, and despite the deliciousness of the broth, she struggled to finish.

“Do you like consommé, Your Ladyship?” Georgiana said, and Cordelia glanced up to see the young woman staring at her. “I daresay you’ve not tasted it before.”

“No, but I have made consommé.”

“Really? When?”

“Georgiana…” James said, but Cordelia ignored him.

“I used to help out in the kitchens at the Lyon’s Den,” she said. “The food there is known for being the finest in London.”

“It must be such a change for you, then, to dine above stairs.”

“Don’t be horrid, Georgiana,” Margaret said. “Cordelia’s not a servant.”

“No, she’s a—”

“Not at the dinner table,” James growled.

“Where, then?” Georgiana said, her color rising. “Am I to be expected to dine with someone whose position in life is so far beneath mine? Do you think, when people discover who—or what—you’ve married that they’ll associate with us?”

“Then go dine with the pigs, Georgie,” Margaret said, poking her tongue out. “You’ve a face like a sow’s backside, so you’d be good company for them.”

Georgiana’s eyes shone with tears and she dropped her spoon in her bowl with a clatter.

“Margaret, apologize to your sister,” Cordelia said. “You’ve upset her.”

“But she’s upset you,” Margaret said.

“I am not upset,” Cordelia said. “And whether or not your sister is being uncivil is no justification for you to be the same, is it?”

“And would you similarly admonish me, Your Ladyship?” Georgiana said.

“No, Georgiana,” Cordelia said, smiling. “You’re a grown woman and must take responsibility for your own words and actions. Speak to me as you choose. I care not.”

“Not even if I call you a—”

“You think I can be cowed by mere words?” Cordelia said. “My only objection would be if you used inappropriate language in front of Margaret, who is of an impressionable age. Besides—I’m not the head of this family. You must defer to my husband, as must I. And, when you marry, you must defer to your husband.”

Georgiana’s lip wobbled but she tilted her chin up. “And what do you think my chances are of securing a husband now?”

“That depends on what you seek in a husband,” Cordelia said. “Do you want a man who wishes to marry you to maintain his status, a man seeking a fortune to fund his lifestyle? Or do you want a companion for life who will devote himself to making you happy? The first two are men who wish only to take. The third is a man who wishes to give.”

“What of my brother?” Georgiana said, turning her gaze to the silent man at the opposite end of the table who stared at Cordelia, his spoon in midair.

“I would never marry a man who only wishes to take what he wants from me,” Cordelia said.

She glanced at Margaret, whose gaze flitted between each of them.

“Now, my good man…” Cordelia said to the footman holding the tureen. “Forgive me, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Walter, Your Ladyship.”

“Walter. Please tell Mrs. Vaughan that I’ve never tasted beef consommé as fine as that which I’ve enjoyed tonight. I very much look forward to discussing with her the method she uses for clarification.”

“Very good, Your Ladyship.”