Page 23 of Finding Hope
Really, what did his mother intend to accomplish by confronting him in such a manner? For all she’d preached propriety and decorum, she was only making herself look ridiculous. Hopefully, she would not embarrass Hope.
“I was just speaking with old Chappy Whitford’s daughter here.”
“I do not recall such a person,” she said stiffly.
“Of course you have heard me speak of him. He was the Navy chaplain who nursed me back to health after Cadiz.” He turned to his friends. “Before I became Davenmere, you understand. We served under Nelson together, God rest his soul.”
Could it be true? His father had known Hope’s? Or was his father more canny than Max had ever realized? Either way, the Duchess could hardly ignore Miss Whitford now.
“It is a shame your parents were killed, Miss Whitford. A finer man I have yet to know,” his father continued.
“Thank you, your Grace,” Miss Whitford replied as his mother sniffed and left in a huff.
CHAPTER 6
Dinner that evening was a grand affair. Hope wondered if they intended to have formal dinners every night of the house party. It was hard to imagine the servants preparing such lavish feasts night after night.
Jenkins had been sent to help Hope dress and had laid out a lavender silk that was rather daring. She had thought that one had been made for a ball.
“The Dowager asked me to have you wear this one in particular, miss.”
Hope thought all of her new clothes were beautiful and had no particular opinion one way or the other. “If her ladyship thinks I should wear this gown, then that is what I shall wear.”
The maid looked relieved. Did she think Hope would be difficult?
Jenkins seemed to take extra care with Hope’s coiffure, curling and pinning every lock just so. Then she piled all of the curls on top of Hope’s head with a few pieces cascading down to her shoulders. Hope had never felt so sophisticated in all her life. Lady Halbury would probably have had a fit at the low cut of Hope’s gown, were she able to see her. Part of her shoulders and a good deal of her neck were bare. She rather liked the effect.
“Would you like the pearls, miss?” Jenkins asked, holding them up for her.
Hope looked at her reflection in the mirror. “I think just my locket.” It was the one thing each of them possessed from their parents. It was a gold heart with her initials upon it, hanging on a simple gold chain.
She put on her slippers and her gloves and then went down the hall to find her sisters. When they reached the drawing room where everyone was gathered beforehand, Lady Diana was telling them who would escort them into the dining room.
“Good evening, ladies,” she said to the Dowager and the sisters. She looked down at her list, then up to search for the desired escorts. “Your escort will be Lord Summerton, my lady,” she said to the Dowager. “Miss Whitford…” She frowned. “That’s odd, I could have sworn you were paired with someone else,” she murmured. “Mr. Cunningham will be your escort. You are acquainted with him?”
“Oh, yes. I know him well.”
“Excellent.” She pointed out Montford for Patience, and Lord Carew for Grace. At least they had not been paired with any old men, but she did notice Lord Rotham had been paired with Vivienne Cunningham. That was no surprise, if the Duchess was making the arrangements.
What she would not give to see the list Lady Diana had been holding close to her bodice of midnight-blue silk dotted with tiny diamonds. It was clear her original partner had been changed. It mattered not. Freddy was always delightful.
When they went into the dining room, their placement at a separate table was also obvious. It was customary to be seated by rank, or favour of the presiding host, but the three sisters did not even rank high enough to be seated at the main table. A smaller one had been added just for them.
“Please accept our apologies, gentlemen, since you have been relegated to the low-ranking table,” Hope teased.
“This is the best table by far,” Carew said. “Now I do not have to be subjected to Lady Wilton’s wandering hands beneath the table or Summerton’s odiferous breath.”
“Besides, we are served earlier here,” Freddy said knowingly.
“It is the same food,” Montford added.
“And we can talk across the table,” Patience said.
“I am fairly certain we are still supposed to observe proper etiquette,” Hope replied dryly.
“Why bother when ’tis just ourselves?”
“Indeed. We can gossip our hearts out,” Carew drawled. “Who should we start with?” he asked as a footman placed bowls of white soup before them.
