Page 30 of Indecent Desires of a Proper Lady
“Oh, Margaret, what do you think of these linens? I confess I cannot decide! Mrs. Bonds has asked me, and I fear I shall die before I am able to make a selection!” Juliet held up two identical cloth napkins in the air, a line of worry across her forehead.
Margaret did her best not to laugh. “My dear Juliet, they are practically the same!”
Juliet squinted her eyes at both. “Certainly not! One of them is bright, swan-like white, and the other is more of a cream. Please tell me you know the answer, for Leonard is absolutely hopeless at help!”
Margaret envisioned the face of her brother at being thrust in the face with the same-looking linens and begged for his opinion. It was laughable, indeed, and it did not help Margaret’s attempts to keep her expression placid so as to not insult Juliet.
“Well, I suggest the swan color. It is your anniversary after all, and the clean bright white of the napkins will help to offset the darker color of the tablecloths.”
Juliet sighed audibly with relief. “You have taken a load off of my mind. Now, we are onto the menu. What sort of dessert do you think would be appropriate for an anniversary and coming-out party? It is such a strange combination that I was not certain what would be the best choice.”
Margaret put her hands on her hips. “Juliet, please tell me that you are not truly considering this to be a coming-out party for me or have told anyone of that fact. You know that I am already out in society. Besides, how ridiculous to celebrate something like the cutting of one’s hair so publicly!”
Juliet looked at her for a moment and then giggled. “No, of course I have not told anyone. It is only Felix and Sarah who know, since they were present at the time, but you cannot stop me from thinking of it in my mind as we are celebrating tomorrow evening.”
“Fine.” Margaret was satisfied. “Let me see the choices you have. You know that Mrs. Bonds will do very well in helping you decide. She has done this for many years. Mrs. Graham is a wonderful cook. Why should you worry?” She reached forward to grab a piece of paper that had also been wedged in Juliet’s busy hand.
“It is just that I know that they rely upon me to choose, even if they can make suggestions. I fear that I am not up to their standards. You are by far the more experienced lady.”
Margaret sighed. “I shall do my best for you.”
She read over the selections, but before she could comment, Juliet said, “Come with me. We shall go to the ballroom and discuss the arrangement of tables while we have the time. Soon I must see to Little George, but I would like to get your opinion on the matter.”
Margaret nodded, again grateful to be so engaged. But what would she do after the ball, when there was more time than she would know what to do with? She could return to writing, but that had been a failed experiment as she wavered on the status of her main character.
Hours passed, and Margaret found herself alone in her bedroom, ready to sleep, but feeling too energized to close her eyes and lay back. She had been to the manor’s library that day and pulled out a number of volumes to keep her entertained and keep certain thoughts from her mind, but that evening, nothing was doing the trick.
When the servant had come in to light the fire and turn down her bedclothes, she had even tried to engage the young girl in conversation, but the woman was not used to be thus spoken to and hurried off a little in fear.
Margaret sighed, and blowing out the candle, slid under her coverlet, hoping that eventually she could be left in peace. As had begun to happen, thoughts of Philip slowly crept in, having been kept at bay all day. She moved them about in her mind, wondering just when it had happened, when her heart had changed toward him.
She remembered his kind words in the drawing room, and she felt that there had been something there in that moment that had helped her break away from her old self and start anew. But at first she had thought it merely friendship. Now her heart told her it wanted more. The renewed image of them on the shoreline of the Atlantic Ocean kept coming back, and each time it did, her heart flooded with happiness.
She had not seen Philip in days, but tomorrow would be the moment of reckoning.
* * *
As soon as he could, Philip had duly sent his letter off to the hotel in France where Leonard told him Charles was staying. It had been days since he’d heard any reply. But the morning of the ball, a letter arrived for him at breakfast time, and hastily, he pulled it from the butler’s hands.
His family looked at his hasty manner with confusion, but to his relief, they soon returned to eating. He read over the letter quickly.
Dear Philip,
All is well here in France. I think business will do very well, and the shipments are beginning without any trouble. I have written to Leonard as well to tell him so.
As for the other matter, I do hope it will be resolved in a matter of weeks. I am gathering a sum that I believe will help to fulfill most if not all of the debts.
Keep yourself busy, my friend.
Charles
In Philip’s haste to write the letter, he had forgotten to mention that he’d purchased the commission and was eagerly awaiting his first trip across the sea in almost ten days. He had also neglected to mention the note that he and Leonard had received.
He felt that Charles truly had enough to concern himself that there was no need to alert him. What good could it have done? Although, Philip wished that he could somehow show the letter to the one waiting impatiently for the debts to be repaid, so that they could see that there was hope, and that Charles was doing something about it.
He refolded the letter quickly and pushed it into his jacket pocket. In the middle of chewing, Edward looked at him with a frown. Philip shook his head, warning him not to mention anything to his father and mother. He would never hear the end of it from his mother, who had always thought Charles a rakish sort.
“Well, My Son, was that from the naval office?” Rupert looked over his newspaper and Diana’s eyes were wide with worry.
