“Does not Lady Vivian come to visit? She is your niece, isn’t she?” Camellia asked. “We met her with Cousin Charlotte in London, and she seemed very nice.”
Lady Sabrina let out her charming little laugh. “Yes, she is. So amusing, is it not, that I should be her aunt, when we are of an age? We were bosom friends, you know, when we were young. I lived nearby with my grandparents. Alas, my grandfather, the admiral, is long since gone, as is my dear grandmother.” She sighed. “What fun we had. Dear Vivian and Charlotte. I fear neither of them comes to our little village as often as they used to.”
“They talked about visiting after the Season is over,” Mary offered.
“Did they? But how delightful.” Sabrina’s face brightened. “I must have a ball. Introduce you to the countryside. How does that sound?” Scarcely waiting for the girls to voice their approval, she swept on, “Miss Dalrymple tells me that the earl and his brother will be joining you soon. With Charlotte and Vivian, that will make a very fair number. But, of course, you must promise to call on me long before that.”
It was agreed that the Bascombe sisters would call upon Lady Sabrina the next week; after that, the women settled down to a thoroughly satisfying discussion of the ball she intended to host.
After Sabrina left, Lily exclaimed, “What a nice woman! I am so glad we met her. And isn’t she pretty? She looked just as I imagined Lady Jessamine did in the Count of Otrello .”
“Yes, she was most agreeable. She did not make the slightest comment about our clothes.” Mary looked down at her skirt. “I noticed right after we walked in that I had a streak of dust above my hem, but she didn’t even look askance at it.”
“It was exceedingly generous of her to take an interest in you.” Miss Dalrymple rose to her feet and looked around at each of the girls as she drove her point home. “The Carlyle name is one of the most distinguished in the country. I was surprised by her tolerance, but clearly she is a most gracious and refined woman. You should look to her as an example. The rest of this week, we shall work on appropriate topics of conversation when you call on her.”
With that parting shot, Miss Dalrymple exited the room. Camellia let out a heartfelt groan and sprawled out inelegantly in her chair. “All I can say on the matter is, thank God Lady Carlyle isn’t cut from the same cloth as Miss Dalrymple.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Yes.” Rose nodded. “I do look forward to visiting her. I only wish …”
“What?” Mary turned to look at her sister.
“That those clothes Cousin Charlotte ordered for us would get here!”
“Me too!” Lily chimed in. “Wasn’t Lady Sabrina’s dress divine?”
The girls trooped out of the room, happily discussing the wonders that would await them when their new dresses arrived.
Mary was surprised when Royce did not join them for dinner that evening—and more disappointed than she would have admitted to anyone, including her sisters. She also felt quite irritated that she was disappointed.
“Dinner is a much duller affair without Sir Royce present,” Rose said, echoing her thoughts.
Mary shrugged. “I enjoy having the opportunity to be alone with my sisters.”
Rose gave her an odd look, and Lily goggled openly, but said only, “Where do you suppose he is? Do you think he’s sick?”
“He seemed well enough at lunch,” Camellia answered. “I bet he went down to the village. To the tavern, probably.”
Miss Dalrymple sent her a reproving look. “It is scarcely your place to be questioning Sir Royce’s whereabouts. Besides, it is little wonder that any man would chafe at constantly being in the company of young women.”
“You mean he’s bored by us?” Lily asked, her mouth turning down.
“No, of course not,” Mary hastened to assure her sister, shooting a grim look at Miss Dalrymple. “I am sure Sir Royce likes us. But no doubt he would enjoy other company as well. Other men to drink with, for instance.”
“One cannot expect a gentleman to spend all his time with us ladies,” Miss Dalrymple went on pedantically. “That is simply the way of things. Men have other interests … often things of a lower nature.”
Lily eyed the older woman with some fascination. “What things?”
Miss Dalrymple frowned. “It is scarcely appropriate for us to speculate on them. A well-brought-up young lady does not ask where a gentleman is going or why.”
“Then how is she supposed to know?” Camellia asked reasonably.