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“Your father is certainly an interesting fellow,” Leticia continued.
“I think he is charming,” Polly interjected. Edwina could only watch in horror as the wine glass in her father’s hand sloshed threateningly and then cascaded dramatically over his chest, staining his white shirt a crimson red. Except for Polly, all the other girls snickered.
“You would think him charming, Polly, as he is clumsier than you, and that is a talent not easily obtained,” Leticia laughed. Polly’s cheeks turned a deep red in embarrassment.
Horrified by Leticia’s cruel words, Edwina clutched her fists. “How dare you laugh at him!”
“How dare I?” Leticia challenged, the smile on her face falling. “How dareI? I know you and your father are new to society, but may I suggest he learn to resemble a man of his station? He is an embarrassment to theton. The sooner you marry, the better off you will be – before you become as much an embarrassment as him.”
Edwina blinked back tears from her eyes again, her fingernails digging into her palms.
“I think I shall bid you a good night,” she whispered tightly, curtseying to the group of women. Turning heel, she headed toward her father.
“Miss Haverton, I believe I have the next set,” another man said, drawing near to her. She tried to paint her smile on one last time, annoyed at the man for standing between her and her father.
“Thank you, Mr. Silas, but I am not feeling well and must head home. Please, do excuse me.”
“That is a shame,” Mr. Silas said, bowing as he searched her face. “Please permit me to call upon you when you are feeling better?” She only smiled in response as she dipped a quick curtsey, ignoring him further as she tried to take hold of her father’s arm.
“Oh, dear me, the maids will scold me for ruining another shirt,” father rambled, trying to dap at the front of his shirt with a kerchief.
“Papa, I think we must go home,” Edwina said softly. She turned to the two men her father had been speaking to, who could only barely contain their snickers. “I do hope you will excuse us?”
“Anything for you, Miss Haverton,” one man said, bowing. She breathed a thank you to him, pulling her father toward the door. After they climbed into their carriage, her father shook his head.
“I am so sorry, Edwina. I do not really belong in society like this. You still have time to learn and adjust.”
She reached across the carriage to take his hand. “I know, Papa. I know you want me to marry well. Once I do, you will not have to attend these parties or host suppers or anything like that. You can go back to doing what you love.”
“Tinkering and inventing things is not necessarily appropriate for a Baron,” he sighed.
“Who cares?” Edwina insisted. “You must do what makes you happy.”
He squeezed her hand and dropped it. “I may go for a walk after we get home. I need to clear my head.”
“Oh, do be careful,” she rushed. “I was just hearing about this Monster of London attacking people at night.”
“Bah,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. “I am an old man. I shall be fine.”
