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“Listen, Maidie! There are unwritten rules governing the conduct of females, and I dare say your great-uncle Reginald—and I do not mean to criticise him, so you need not look daggers at me—neglected to inform you of them, besides a number of other things which ought to have fallen to Miss Wormley’s lot to teach you.”
A wry grimace twisted Maidie’s mouth. “Poor Worm. She did try. I am afraid I was not an apt pupil.”
Delagarde was amused. “I can well imagine her efforts might not meet with success.”
There was silence for a moment or two. Maidie toyed with the food on her plate, digesting the conversation. It did seem as though Delagarde was intent upon mending her manners. Whether his motive might be what she suspected, she had yet to discover, but it occurred to her she might, with advantage, learn of him. It did not accord with her plans, certainly, to drive any suitors away (as Adela had suggested). On the other hand, it went against the grain with her to adjust her deportment merely for the sake of acceptance.
“It does not seem fair,” she said, speaking the thought in her mind, “that, just because one is a female, one should be subject to restrictions.”
“Oh, there are quite as many restrictions for men, I assure you. But less subject to the censure of females than of one’s own sex.”
“But it is the females whom I am obliged to conciliate. Great-uncle told me positively my rank and wealth would guarantee acceptance.”
“Acceptance, yes, and your fortune, were we to tell the world of it, would reconcile many to your devastating frankness. But the sort of incivility you indulge in when you lose your temper, even in the daughter of an Earl, will not readily be forgiven.”
“I do not lose my temper,” Maidie said with dignity, adding at his sceptical look, “At least, not often.”
“Pardon me. I have seen you lose it several times.”
Maidie’s chin went up. “That is only because you are so excessively provoking.”
“Permit me to return the compliment.”
She bit her lip on a sharp answer, and instead added, “It is strange I may not be forgiven for losing my temper, but everyone is ready to forgive your drinking yourself under the table, and gaming away half a fortune.”
“I rarely, let me tell you, drink to excess. As for gaming, I have already told you I am but a moderate gamester, if I am one at all.”
“You will not, however, dare to say the same of your affaires.”
“My—!” Delagarde stopped, the affability wiped from his face. “That is a disgraceful thing to say—and typical! How dare you mention such matters? No female of true gentility would dream of referring to that part of a gentleman’s life of which she should know nothing.”
“That is not what Great-uncle told me,” Maidie said with maddening calm. “He advised me to be astute enough to judge what a husband might be up to, in order to use it to my advantage when I particularly wished for some little service or trifle which he might otherwise be unwilling to render me.”
“Your eccentric great-uncle,” said Delagarde with a good deal of emphasis, pushing back his chair and rising from the table, “gave you a singularly ill-advised education.”
“Not at all. He did not wish me to grow up one of these namby-pamby females who can do nothing for themselves.”
“There is nothing namby-pamby about a well-bred girl, with quiet manners and a calm disposition, who has not had her head stuffed with a lot of arrant nonsense.”
Maidie raised her brows at him. “Then why haven’t you married one?”
For a moment or two, Delagarde regarded her impotently. Then he threw down his napkin, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the breakfast parlour without another word.
Entering the green saloon upstairs some little time later, Maidie discovered both the elder ladies to have come down, having breakfasted in bed—a custom in which Lady Hester always indulged, and which Maidie knew she had encouraged the Worm to emulate. They looked to be enjoying a lively discussion, seated in two of the Chippendale chairs which they had turned to face the window in order to enjoy a little of the wintry sunshine that entered there.
“There you are, Maidie,” sang out her ladyship, throwing out a welcoming hand. “Come and hear how we have successfully traced our relationship.”
“Oh, my love, it is too comforting. It seems Lady Hester is my father’s first cousin. I had no inkling we were so closely tied.”
Maidie went across and bent to press a kiss to her duenna’s faded cheek. “I am so glad for you, Worm.” Turning to Lady Hester, she felt all her uncertainty rush back, and was quite unable to prevent a good deal of reserve creeping into her greeting. “Good morning, Lady Hester.”
Her patroness instantly disconcerted her. “Why, what is this, Maidie? You are very cool all of a sudden.”
Dismayed, Maidie stammered, “I?I beg your pardon, ma’am. It is just—I did not mean—” She faltered to a stop under Lady Hester’s questioning gaze.
“Have you quarrelled with Laurie again?”
“No! At least, yes, I have, but that has nothing—I mean, it is not because of—”
