Page 28 of Everything a Lady is Not
Henry and the duchess exchanged a startled glance. He cleared his throat. “Well, then. We should move on to the next lesson, which applies very uniquely to you. When in polite company, you must never show overt emotion and must refrain from sudden outbursts.”
“I do not have sudden outbursts!” she said hotly. No sooner had the statement left her lips than she realized how thoroughly she was proving his point. She dipped her chin. “As you were saying.”
“Yes, as I was saying. No emotion and absolutely no outbursts. That includes gregarious laughter.”
She cocked her head. “How shall I respond, then, if I find something particularly amusing?”
“If you must, then dip your chin, cover your mouth, and chuckle softly and briefly. You see, well-bred persons always maintain tight control of their facial features, physical bodies, and manner of speech when in the presence of others. To do otherwise marks you as lowborn.”
“I see. One would not wish to appear lowborn. The horror!”
He stared grimly at her. “Yes. The horror.”
“So, I may not laugh, understandably. May I at least smile?”
“Yes, of course, but not too broadly. You must take care to not show any teeth.”
“I possess exceptional teeth, though.”
“Oh, yes,” Henry replied too quickly. Then he paused. “The quality of your teeth is not the issue.”
“What is the issue, then?”
“That you must not show your teeth.”
Lucy stared at the floor and frowned. “It’s not my fault that nearly everyone but me has bad teeth.” When she looked up at Henry, he was frowning as well.
“Although I may not laugh or smile,” she said, “Apparently frowning seems acceptable. Is that so, Mr. Beaumont?”
“Only if warranted.”
Her frown deepened. “Who, then, decides when a frown is warranted?”
“Your guests, of course. You must frown only if they deem frowning an appropriate response to some topic or another.”
“Even if one of my guests is the most scandalous of rakes?”
“Yes, even then.”
“’Tis another stupid rule. Your sage advice will rescue me from dastardly acts of emotion. What next, Lord Compendium? What other horrific behaviors are unacceptable?”
Henry’s jaw flexed, and Lucy thought she saw his eyes flash with irritation.
“Oh, many, many mundane behaviors earn disrespect and disregard from the well-bred of Society.” His reply bordered on sarcasm. “Blowing one’s nose, picking one’s nails, and most definitely introducing any appendage into one’s nostrils at any time. And if you must cough, you must do so in near silence. To cough loudly marks you as…”
“Lowborn, I know. You have made that point already, Sir Redundant. But let me repeat so I may be sure of understanding. When in the company of others, I may not engage in any human bodily function or emotion, other than what might be expected of a boiled turnip.”
The duchess placed a hand to her mouth and chuckled softly. Henry seemed to disregard the duchess’s amusement. “Exactly. Your grasp of simple facts borders on astounding. However, do not despair. You will be pleased to learn that you are allowed to faint, swoon, or exhibit general hysteria if confronted with a particular level of vulgarity. In fact, not doing so is to provide tacit approval of said vulgarity. This will mark you also as vulgar, and it goes without saying…as lowborn.”
“If it goes without saying, then why must you say it? However, I digress. I am more curious to know what constitutes vulgarity.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “If you must know, any talk of bodily functions, childbirth, amorous congress, monthly cycles…”
“You said ‘amorous congress’,” she interrupted. “What does that mean?”
Lucy knew very well what it meant but wished to see him squirm. He squirmed.
“It means, er, ah, when a man and a woman engage in, shall we say, ah, physical congress of an intimate nature.”
