“Excellent,” he said, a little drily, “and now we had best find a book or two to discuss.”
Awkwardness came over her. She resorted to commonplaces. “What a magnificent library.” She strolled about, running her hands over the spines. “I never thought of Lord Restive as a great reader.”
Cecil fingered a few volumes. “He inherited most of this, but he enjoys poetry—everything from Shakespeare’s sonnets to William Blake.”
“I like Blake’s poems very much. They are so different to anything I’ve encountered before.”
“They are indeed.” Did that mean he liked them, or not?
She didn’t care—the measure of a man was not the tastes they shared—but she had to say something. “I also enjoy Mr. Wordsworth’s poetry, when it’s not too mawkish, that is.”
He didn’t respond—because he was perusing the titles on a shelf, or because he felt it would be rude to disagree?
He removed a few slim volumes. “How about the first two parts of Tom Jones?”
“I’ve already read it, but Mother doesn’t know.” She felt herself reddening. An innocent girl shouldn’t be aware of such an improper tale—not that it seemed particularly dreadful to her; the behavior of real people was often far worse. “She will be appalled if she thinks you are recommending it to me.” Dorothea couldn’t help but laugh again. “Poor Mother.”
“She deserves it for cutting up your peace.”
“Dorothea! Whatever are you doing in here?” Mother stormed into the library with Lady Alice behind her. “Lord Wellough claims you deserted him mid-sentence.”
“I can never resist a library, Mother.” She smiled at Cecil. “Thank you for showing me, Mr. Hale. I have heard fascinating things about Tom Jones, but I fear my mother would not approve.”
“My pleasure, Miss Darsington,” Cecil purred, sounding not at all like himself. He sketched a wink, returned the books to the shelf, and left.
“What an ill-mannered man.” Mother glared at Cecil’s retreating back. “How could you go aside with him?”
“I rather like him,” Dorothea said. “He reads poetry.”
“And scandalous novels,” Mother retorted. “Speaking of ill-mannered, how dare you disrespect Lord Wellough? Your behavior mortifies me.”
“He probably deserved it,” Lady Alice said in her blunt, no-nonsense way. “He has had far too much punch for so early in the day, and when he drinks, he loses all discretion.”
“Nevertheless,” Mother said.
Dorothea turned to Lady Alice. “Thank you for understanding, my lady. I don’t wish to speak unkindly of your cousin, but he made me most uncomfortable, for he sat too close, and his hand brushed my thigh.”
“No need to apologize,” Lady Alice said. “I shall give him a good telling-off, never you fear.”
“It was a great relief when Mr. Hale came to my rescue,” Dorothea said.
“Rescue?” Mother scowled. “Nonsense! He is a libertine, seizing his chance to prey on you. If you didn’t see that lascivious wink, I certainly did!”
Dorothea giggled. “It was a lovely, friendly wink,” she said, meaning it. Somehow, with that one wink, Cecil had managed to reassure her whilst alarming her mother.
“I don’t know Mr. Hale well—he’s a friend of my nephew’s—but I don’t think he’s dangerous,” Lady Alice said. “He’s rather reserved, and doesn’t have the predatory air so common in libertines.”
“A fortune hunter, then,” Mother said.
“By what Restive tells me, he inherited a competence recently,” Lady Alice said.
“Bah!” Mother said. “You must avoid him, Dorothea.”
I most certainly shall not.
When it was time to dress for dinner, Mrs. Bates showed them to their rooms. Mother was given the same chamber to which they had been shown upon arrival; Dorothea’s was next to hers down the same corridor. The young maid from earlier had already unpacked her belongings. She curtsied. “Lady Alice says I am to attend you, miss.”
Yet another example of Lady Alice’s thoughtfulness. Mother’s maid was getting on in years and needed what rest she could get. This arrangement also provided Dorothea with an opportunity to get some much-needed information.
“How kind of her. What is your name?”
“Sarah, miss. Oh, miss, you’re ever so pretty! Shall you wear this green gown or the yellow one? Or maybe the blue with scallops along the hem?” Her eyes sparkled as if she were a princess going to a ball, rather than a maid helping a lady to dress.
Not wishing to disappoint her, Dorothea pretended to consider her options. She didn’t care which dress she wore; they all became her. The year before, she’d had several ugly dresses made to see if that would deter amorous gentlemen, but all she’d got was snide remarks from the ladies. Gentlemen didn’t notice one’s gown except to offer meaningless compliments whilst pondering what was beneath it. Or so she suspected—needless to say, she’d never actually asked.
“The celestial blue for tomorrow evening, I think, and the rose for Christmas Day. Tonight…which do you prefer, Sarah? The yellow or the green? Or the figured muslin?”
Sarah grinned, thrilled to be asked her opinion. “The green, miss, it being my favorite color, and the Contessa will choose white or black—that’s all she brought with her, being foreign—so you won’t clash with her. You’re by far the prettier, if you ask me.”
Dorothea thanked her but said, “The Contessa is lovely in an exotic sort of way. Are you attending to her as well?”
“Only to help out her maid. She can’t speak much English, poor thing, and she’s a Catholic. Must be hard, so far from home at Christmastide.”
Dorothea nodded sympathetically. “Is the Contessa’s chamber in this wing, too?”
“Yes, miss, she’s next to yours and furthest from the stairs, for she prefers a quiet room. Closest to the head of the stairs is the dowager’s suite, but since there is no dowager—nor any Lady Restive, for that matter—Lady Alice has that one.”
“Where would Lady Restive’s suite be, if there were one?” Dorothea asked.
Sarah giggled, no doubt assuming Dorothea had hopes in that direction. “In the opposite wing, miss. Lord Restive’s room is first, then his dressing room, which is next to another dressing room and bedchamber. Those will be for her new ladyship, when he marries. His lordship gave Mr. Hale that one at first, them being old friends, but Lord Wellough arrived sudden-like, so he was obliged to give him the larger room and had us move Mr. Hale, who’s an easygoing gentleman and wouldn’t hear of moving the Frenchman, who’s quite handsome but poor as a church mouse, to the room at the very end, but took that one himself.” At this point, she ran out of breath.
Fortunately, she worked quickly, and by now Dorothea was dressed in the green gown. Sarah began to fix her hair.
“All the gentlemen are in that wing,” Dorothea said. How inconvenient, for what excuse would she have if she were caught there?
“Yes, miss. Lady Alice says it’s more comfortable for the ladies that way, but what if they’re hoping for a visit from a gentleman?” Sarah blushed in the mirror. “Beg pardon, miss. Everyone says I talk too much.”