Page 38 of Everything a Lady is Not
Lady Isabella clapped her hands. “Wonderful! In that case, you must invite some younger ladies to offer, should I say, a fresher societal perspective. I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I doubt your friends know exactly what suitors seek these days.”
The duchess smiled darkly. “Suitors always seek the same things, girl. Beauty, money, and fertile loins.”
“I do not mean to disagree, but men these days will not glance twice at a woman who does not present a certain feminine quality.” She looked to Henry. “Do you not agree?”
His face blanched. “Well, I…”
“Do you see, Your Grace? He agrees. A fortuitous agreement it is, as your granddaughter clearly has much to learn.”
The duchess’s dark glare grew icy as well. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“Merely that I bring two or three of my friends to help. I so wish for your granddaughter to prepare fully for her introduction into broader circles. The observations of youth may serve a constructive purpose.”
The offer sounded to Lucy’s ears more like a threat, such as, “Here, let me relieve you of the burden of your immense wallet.” The duchess must have heard the same, because she hesitated before relenting.
“I suppose younger eyes might observe minor details the more mature might miss.”
“Then the matter is settled. Please have your butler inform my footman of the particulars, and I will attend.” She turned again to Henry. “You will be in attendance, will you not?”
“Of course. Lady Margaret is my charge.”
“Perfect. I wish you good luck, Henry. Now, however, I must take my leave for I have other calls to make. I look forward to seeing you again Saturday.”
Lady Isabella rose with the grace of dancers on a Grecian urn. Lucy stood in turn and began to curtsy before the duchess’s hand stopped her. She sheepishly resumed her full stature. Isabella betrayed a brief flash of disdain, but Henry and the duchess seemed not to notice. She curtsied lightly and glided, as if on skates, toward the door.
“Au revoir,” she announced. However, she stopped to cast a glance over a slender shoulder. “And Henry…”
“Yes.”
“Leave your uniform at home. You are the son of an earl. Do not forget your station.”
As the young gentlewoman swept through the parlor doors and disappeared, realization struck Lucy. She had encountered a dangerous adversary and would be forced to meet her on a battleground familiar to the woman but utterly foreign to Lucy, with nothing more than her entire future at stake. The room fell silent in the wake of Lady Isabella’s departure. Once again, the duchess was first to speak.
“Mr. Beaumont.”
“Yes.”
“Watch your step with that one.”
His mouth twitched at one corner. “Yes, Your Grace.”
He shifted his attention to Lucy, who had resumed her seat. “Now, let us at least take instruction from this experience. Lady Isabella is the first gentle lady of your age you have met since your return. What did you learn from the encounter regarding the comportment of a lady?”
Her eyes rolled toward the ornate ceiling as she collected her thoughts. She grew a wry smile. “I learned that one must understand the latest fashions appealing to men of a certain station. I learned that one must be privy to the latest rumors and must repeat said rumors without discretion while making much of not repeating them.”
Henry frowned at her. “I see. What else did you learn?”
“I learned that one must never acknowledge the presence of anyone deemed socially inferior to oneself until forced to do so by another of superior social status.”
Henry’s frown grew deeper while the duchess smiled. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps that is enough…”
“No, Mr. Beaumont. I learned one other important behavior.”
He paused, his expression somewhere between reluctance and a wince. “And what is that?”
“Today, I learned a lady must flirt relentlessly with any eligible man of her station, and the man must reciprocate.”
His face flushed. “I did not flirt. I simply offered cordiality.”
