A Lady Never Tells(39)

“Thank you, Will,” Fitz told the footman. “You may go now. We will serve ourselves this morning.”#p#分页标题#e#

The footman nodded and left the room.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Fitz said to Mary. “But I particularly wanted to talk to you, and it’s better without servants around. Shall I fill your plate for you?”

He turned toward the sideboard, where an array of chafing dishes stood, and picked up a plate. Mary jumped up and followed him.

“I can get my own, thank you.” She jerked the plate from his hands and started down the line, slapping a little something from each dish onto her plate.

Fitz waited to pull out her chair again before returning to his own food, already half-finished. He was silent at first, but when the first sharp edge of Mary’s hunger was taken off and she settled back in her chair to sip her tea, he pushed his plate aside and leaned forward.

“I want to apologize for both my brothers. They are, quite simply, fools.”

Mary set down her cup and crossed her arms. Fitzhugh Talbot was entirely too easy to like, and she had the suspicion that many people had found themselves agreeing to whatever he said before they even realized what they were doing.

“Yes, they are,” she agreed, steeling herself to ignore his charm.

“You, however, are not a fool. We both know that. And it would be foolish in the extreme to depart from this house because of a wayward remark or two.”

“It wasn’t the remarks. It was the opinions behind them. The earl does not want us here. We are an embarrassment to him, as well as a burden.”

“My dear girl, believe me, Oliver does not worry about embarrassment. Talbots, you see, are above that sort of thing. I do not know how much you overheard last night, but I can assure you that my brother was not worried that other people might look down upon him.”

“Surely you cannot expect me to believe that.”

“I assure you, ’tis true. The thought, quite frankly, would not occur to Stewkesbury. He has never shown the slightest embarrassment over the fact that my mother’s father was”—Fitz leaned forward to deliver a mockingly scandalized whisper—“in trade . You may be American and not, shall we say, bang up to the mark, but your family lines are quite unobjectionable. Your father was penniless but from a good family. So if my origins don’t shame him, I cannot imagine why yours would.”

“But he said—”

“You walked in on the middle of a conversation. As it happens, we were discussing the difficulties a group of young ladies presented for Oliver, for he is not a particularly social man. He generally dislikes the social whirl and finds most parties boring. Receiving polite calls from friends and relatives is even worse for him.”

“I don’t understand what that would have to do with us.”

Fitz cocked his head and studied her. “But surely you must see, with four eligible young ladies, he must bring you out?”

Mary frowned. “Out where?”

Her cousin laughed. “Out into society, of course. You must be introduced to the world we live in. The beau monde. The bon ton . Young women make their debut.”

“Why?” Mary stared at him blankly.

Fitz’s return gaze was equally blank. Finally, he said, “Why … um … because it is what one does. How else is a girl supposed to meet her future husband?”

“In the usual way, I suppose. In the course of life.”

He looked at her oddly. “That is the course of life. Our life. You see, one comes to London for the Season. One goes to parties and the opera and the theater. One rides or drives in the park.”

Mary’s gaze was disbelieving. “And that is all you do?”#p#分页标题#e#

“Oh, no, I do other things. There is my club—well, for men, of course. And Tattersall’s, for the horse sales. Women shop. And receive visitors, make calls, all that sort of thing.”

“What about work?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Doesn’t anyone work?”

“Of course people work. Not me, you understand. I am like the lilies of the field. I neither toil nor do I sow.” He paused, frowning. “Or is it reap?” He shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter really—I don’t do either.” A gurgle of laughter escaped Mary’s lips, and Fitz flashed her a grin. “But Oliver is in his study diligently going over his books and such half the day. In any case, work is not the point of this discussion.”

“Quite frankly, sir, I am not sure what the point is,” Mary responded.

“You and your sisters staying here. I was explaining to you Oliver’s trepidation. It was not about you causing him embarrassment; it was dread at the thought of embarking on the social whirl.”