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“Lord Bulkeley, perhaps?”
“What is he like?”
Notwithstanding the Worm’s eager note, Maidie shuddered. “He is old—five and fifty at the very least. He is quite gross, Worm. I do not think I could bear to marry him.”
The duenna’s face fell. “Some other, then?”
Another countenance swam into Maidie’s memory. “I suppose I might endure Sholto Lugton,” she suggested with a marked lack of enthusiasm. “At least he is young. Too young, in fact. Why, he is barely nineteen, I believe.”
“It need not be a barrier, Maidie,” offered the Worm in her diffident fashion. “A very young man is easily led, you know, and less likely to offer you much opposition.”
“You mean I could mould him?”
“Dearest Maidie, it cannot be denied you have a strong personality.”
“No.” True enough. It crossed her mind it would be more appropriate to be matched with a man who was equally strong, or stronger, but she refrained from saying so. She could think of only one man in this connection, and he would not do at all.
“In any event,” pursued the Worm with determined hope, “it is likely there are others whom you have not yet considered. Only think, my love. You will have quite your pick of them, and may choose precisely whom you wish.”
Only…what if the one she wished for did not wish for her? That was a possibility which had apparently not occurred to the Worm. It occurred forcibly to Maidie. Not that she had anyone particular in mind, but it had been borne in upon her that she must possess so little degree of attraction, outside of her fortune and title, she would do well to think no more of expecting to marry someone who might care for her, let alone someone who might touch her own heart. Really, it mattered little whom she married. Worm was right. She must make a choice as soon as may be, and so free Delagarde from her irksome presence in his house.
She was recalled from her wandering thoughts by Lady Hester. “A penny for them, child.”
Maidie went to the window. “Oh, nothing, ma’am. I was merely wondering how quickly I can settle my affairs.”
“I wish you will not do anything hasty, Maidie.”
Turning to face her, Maidie forced a smile. “I don’t think Lord Delagarde would agree with you.”
To her surprise, Lady Hester gave a sigh which appeared filled with melancholy. “Drat the boy! I had begun to have some hopes of him.”
Maidie came back into the room, standing in the spot Delagarde had lately vacated by the fireplace, and staring down in perplexity at her hostess. “What can you mean, ma’am? What has Delagarde done?”
“It is what he has not done. I quite thought he was beginning to be fond of you, my dear.”
Maidie felt her throat go dry. “F-fond? Of me? I think you must be mistaken, ma’am.”
“Perhaps.” A straight look was directed at Maidie. “Not that I expected anything to come of it. There are your feelings to be taken into account, after all.”
“Well, I have never—” Maidie broke off, quite unable to put into words the conflicting experiences of her dealings with Delagarde. She looked away, conscious of heat in her cheeks, and then drew a breath and looked back boldly. “Ma’am, I must be truthful. I do not know what to think of Delagarde. I feel horribly conscious of what I have done to bring him censure. He—he has a most unsettling effect upon me, that I know.”
“Yes, I had noticed,” said Lady Hester, a laugh in her voice.
“But he can be kind. He makes me laugh—on occasion. If he had not such an uncertain temper—! But I do not know why I complain of it, for mine can be quite as bad.”
“Very true. You have a deal in common, in fact.”
Maidie blinked. “Are you mad, ma’am?” Recollecting herself, she added quickly, “I beg your pardon, but I think you must be. A deal in common with Delagarde? Why, we are poles apart!”
Leaving the mantel, she swept back and forth, as narrowly as the little parlour would allow, the jerking movement of her hands registering the agitation of her spirits. “We can scarcely agree on anything, he and I. His notions are nearly all of them diametrically opposed to my own. Where I see common sense and practicality, he complains of eccentricity. All his enjoyment is to be found in this fashionable whirl of engagements, which I heartily despise. Perhaps not that—but I can derive only a modicum of pleasure from it. Moreover, he is far too autocratic. He must have his will, no matter what. Really, I cannot conceive how I have been able to inhabit the same house with him. The sooner I find myself a husband and set up my own establishment, the better.”
“Yes, Laurie seemed to be of the same opinion,” said Lady Hester on a dry note.
Maidie’s eyes flashed. “Did he? Did he, indeed? He need not concern himself. Now I have the luxury of choice, I shall do my best to oblige him—as soon as possible.”
Her perambulations had halted, and she stood in the middle of the room, defiant and determined. Why she had fallen into moping melancholia, she was at a loss to imagine. Great-uncle would have been grieved to see it. She knew what she wanted, she had come here only for this, and now it was within her reach. Why should she hesitate?
She became aware Lady Hester was eyeing her with an amused expression, and her colour rose.
