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“Miss Barrington,” said Mrs. Beckett-the-Publican, “Mrs. Grice cannot stop praising your hand lotion. I would like to offer some for our guests, but I am no apothecary! The simplest things are far beyond my abilities. Would you be willing to make some for us?”
“Of course, I would be delighted. I have also made soaps that complement the hand lotion, and both come in several scents.” Making lotion and soap was better than wandering about behind Felicity day in, day out. “If you would give me a list of—oh, very good.” Mrs. Beckett thrust a slip of paper into Tabitha’s hand. “You are well prepared. That is admirable. Shall we not discuss this in greater detail? Do you wish to try some samples?”
Mrs. Beckett shook her head. “Any friend of Her Grace is to be trusted.”
Goodbyes were exchanged, and once they crossed the threshold, a pinch at her elbow had her wincing. “Tabitha, you have truly caught Mr. Beckett’s eye,” Felicity said. “As Mary Mossett said, you could do worse than a bee.”
If she were to go down the romantic road, she’d like to think she could do better, rather than do worse. “Mrs. Beckett’s idea is clever and hospitable. I can’t think it is good business to take what I give her without trying it for herself.”
Felicity accepted the change of topic grudgingly, with another pinch at Tabitha’s elbow. “You have a way about you that inspires trust.”
“O’Mara does not trust me.” They stood at the edge of the green, opposite Templeton Stud. Several lads were to-ing and fro-ing about with bits and pieces; she was no horsewoman, and it all looked strange to her, like lengths of leather longer than normal bridles and folded blanket things proudly bearing the Templeton Stud name. Another crowd of lads dragged troughs to the village pump and required the help of several of the men. As they pitched in, a handful of women gathered to offer advice and catcall. Mr. Gambon, as was his duty, soon interceded but managed to do so without ruining the fun.
Felicity gestured, and they went to join the milling crowd. “Her trust is not easily given.”
It certainly was not. Tabitha said, “In turn, His Grace does not trust O’Mara.”
“No. Her powers are so mysterious, even to otherversipelles.” Felicity shoved her hands in the pockets of her trousers. Apparently, part of her marriage contract, which she had written herself, deemed her free to wear them on Tuesdays. “I often feel she is too separate from the pack.”
“Has she a suitor? Or…there are, of course, those who prefer their own gender.”
“I am aware.” Felicity looked proud of herself. “We spoke of this on my wedding day.”
“Really?” What an odd topic to occur. “How in the world did that come up?”
“Lady Coleman and Miss O’Mara were helping me to prepare. The latter will not allow the former to sew for her. Not even a suit such as she is known for wearing. I pointed out that her preferences were all that mattered.”
Tabitha halted them with a touch to Felicity’s arm. “If that is your opinion, then I must say, I feel the need to correct you.” This had been preying on her mind. “I believe O’Mara wishes to be addressed without an honorific. We had acquaintance with several people in France who preferred to have no specific designation as to their gender.”
“Oh. I had no idea.” Felicity looked stricken. “I thought it rude not to address her properly.”
“Conventionallyis a more fitting term thanproperly.” Tabitha kept her tone light; this sort of thing provoked the oddest reactions in people. “It would be best, of course, to discuss it with her directly, but it is my instinct.”
“I trust your instincts without reservation. Your experience of the world is so much greater than mine.” Felicity slipped her hands out of her pockets and worried at the hem of her hacking jacket. “O’Mara would not think it right to take me to task.”
“As surprising as that is, given her general frankness, I think you’re right.”
“I shall do as you suggest. Oh! I am so unworldly. Thetonis such a limiting place when you consider it. The same faces at the same events. I do not know what sort of duchess I shall make if my experience is so narrow.”
“Your experience has expanded in ways unfathomable by most.”
“True enough, and yet…I am a pattern card for conventionality.” They walked on again; it now seemed the entire village had gathered around the pump. “And you?” Felicity asked.
“And I, what?”
“Have you a preference when it comes to gender?”
“I prefer men, but as a rule, they assume I do not when I don’t fancy them as individuals under certain circumstances.” Tabitha had to laugh. “Imagine having such arrogance.”
“I had no love before Alfred.” Felicity slipped her arm through Tabitha’s. “Well, there was a vicar I fancied.”
“There is always a vicar,” Tabitha said.
“But no one else. So I had no experience to draw upon when I met him. In fairness, the abduction was out of bounds, but I held fast, and he was required to make amends.”
“His courtship of you is still the pinnacle ofon-dits.”
Felicity grimaced at that, and who could blame her? “A part of me thought a simpler suitor might be preferable to one of such high status. I am curious if you feel the same.”
