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“Have you enjoyed the dancing?” Viola asked her.
“Not particularly. Mr. Lawson, whom West thinks I ought to marry, is a dullard. He doesn’t even know the difference between the species in the order ofHymenoptera.”
“Er, I’m not sure that’s common knowledge.”
“The major differences between bees and wasps are obvious to anyone. I’m sure you would be able to tell them apart after I made an explanation, but he was incapable of such discernment. We have no interests in common. His conversation consisted of musings about the outcome of horse races and whether his new boots would be ready from the bootmaker before a planned outing to the countryside. He actually described his boots for a full five minutes. He was as bad as Belinda on the topic of footgear. Perhapssheshould marry him and they could discuss the details of their apparel for hours on end.”
Viola smiled. “Have I told you that you look lovely this evening? I like your beetle brooch.” Only Bernadette would wear a lacquered metallic-green beetle as a brooch.
“Thank you. I tried to give this one to Miss Chandler but she didn’t want it. I can’t think why.”
“Miss Chandler looks to be having a marvelous time tonight, and your sisters appear to be enjoying themselves. Belinda’s not lacking for suitors. And neither is Blanche.” Lady Blanche was serene and elegant in a white silk gown and a delicate diamond tiara. Now that word of her replenished dowry was out, and Laxton was nowhere to be found, the suitors were flocking.
“Which one of Lady Blanche’s suitors is Lord Flanders?” Viola asked, eyeing the group of gentlemen surrounding Blanche.
“The one hanging back wearing spectacles and casting lovelorn looks at her.”
Lord Flanders wasn’t conventionally handsome. He had the awkward hunching posture of a man who was overtall and overlarge, but there was something kindly and humble in his address. He was gazing at Blanche with such awestruck devotion that Viola knew instantly that the poor fellow was hopelessly in love with her.
Viola recognized the look of doomed devotion.
Despite his towering height and substantial presence, he’d been edged aside by the dandies flirting with Blanche.
“Does Blanche know that he’s in love with her?” Viola asked Bernadette.
“She hasn’t an inkling. She thinks he’s supremely annoying because he was always teasing her, and playing silly pranks, but it was only because he was so smitten by her. I can’t think why she doesn’t marry him. He’s a very sensible fellow. Interested in the sciences. We had a delightful conversation once about advancements in the study of electricity.”
“Has he a fortune?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“She’ll have her pick of gentlemen now. Poor Flanders has been pushed aside.” Another set was forming, and Blanche took the arm of a tall, good-looking young buck with dark hair and a mischievous grin.
Bernadette edged behind Viola.
“You know it won’t do to hide behind me,” Viola said with a laugh. “I’m much shorter than you are.”
Bernadette sighed heavily. “I know. I’m promised to Lord Darby for this dance. I was ratherhoping he’d developed a sudden case of dysentery.”
“Bernadette,” Viola said sternly. “You didn’t slip anything into Lord Darby’s punch, did you?”
“While I certainly could list multiple ways of incapacitating potential dance partners, I promised you that I’d be on my best behavior and therefore,” she sighed tragically, “I will dance.”
“Here’s Lord Darby now, I presume.”
Viola smiled at the look of misery on Bernadette’s face as she was led away by the eager Lord Darby. Bernadette wasn’t ready for romance. Perhaps she never would be. Several members of Viola’s club for ladies had chosen solitary lives of scholarship.
Miss Chandler had a cluster of gentlemen about her who didn’t seem in the least bit deterred by her engagement to Westbury. They swarmed like bees around her honeyed smiles, perhaps wanting her all the more now that she was off the market.
She wasn’t off the market yet. Not until the wedding happened. And weddings were sometimes canceled. Although this one must go on, because Westbury had already been spending the marriage settlement and the young ladies must have their dowries.
Miss Chandler thrived on being the center of attention. She pouted if any of the gentlemen ceased their attentions for even one moment. She didn’t seem to mind that Westbury was nowhere in sight.
Where was he?
“You’re not dancing, Miss Beaton?” a low voice asked at her elbow.
Viola whirled around to find the duke had snuck up on her while her attention was trained on Miss Chandler. She hoped he hadn’t noticed how intently she was observing his fiancée. “Of course I’m not dancing, Your Grace. You didn’t hire me to dance. You hired me to watch over your sisters.”
