"I couldn't say my Lord," she gurgled rather unconvincingly.
Gigi and Surrey had not chosen to let the men in on their secret, so she was not going to reveal it.
"Oh yes, you know it, Miss Parker, but you have certainly been asked for secrecy. We will not hassle you in the matter any further." Darlington smoothed. "I have figured it out already."
"What is it, Darl? You know and you don't tell me?" Lackerby turned around.
"My dear Lacks, you astound me."
A door opened behind them. "Yes, James, what have you figured out on your own?" Clara joined them at the table.
Flora still had not gotten used to Clara and the Earl being on a first name basis and it always took her aback.
"That you're going to be Aunt Clara soon, Freckles. Don't tell me you haven't guessed, Lackerby?"
"Aaaah… no." Lackerby shook his head but was not perturbed by his own ignorance.
Lucky soul.
Clara crossed her arms. "And high time it is. I had almost given up hope. Couldn't blame them for not trying."
"Shush, Clara, you sound like a cocotte and it doesn't become you," Darlington said sharply.
Clara stuck her tongue out. "You're only thirty-two, James Crawford, stop sounding like a grandfather!"
Darlington's expression was blunt. "Freckles, you're most rude. You have been ever since we got here. You talk like a washer-woman and you dress like a saloppe. You may be only little more than a child, but you should get that temperament of yours under control. I believe seeing Francis has not helped, I'm sure he's been the instigator of your disadvantageous attitudes. He should never have been allowed to spend so much time with you when you were a babe."
Clara got to her feet. "I don't feel like having breakfast after all, not with you at least. I hate you, James Crawford!" She stormed off.
"Freckles, come back! I'm not finished." Darlington shouted. "Someone has to tell you, since nobody else seems to care about your prospects in this house!"
"Drown yourself in the lake, James!" Clara could be heard from further away.
"Excuse me. Miss Parker, Lackerby," Darlington got up as well and went after her.
"Ha! You know, she's right!" Lackerby chirruped joyfully. "He's always been Baby Darlington at Eton, one forgets so quickly!"
Flora rolled her eyes.
Their directness confused her, too. She could never speak to any of them in such a fashion. But of course, their fathers had been good friends, and so had their grand-fathers before them, and all the Surreys and Darlingtons and Lackerbies and Raleighs and Sunderlands and Spencers had known each other since the beginning of time.
Elite coterie. Always sticking together, letting nobody in. I'm only here because I'm Gigi's friend, and she's only here because she's a long-legged, buxom siren who happened to be at the right place at the right time. How can they complain about the Prince's lose morals and lax comportment when they are hardly any better? We mortals always have to behave properly, otherwise we are compromised or cut and left to our own lowly connections. It's at times like these when I can understand my mother's silly ambitions. It's not nice to be the lowest of one's lot. We're part of the ton, yes, but we are the meanest part. Poor Clara, any girl would be disoriented with such friends and relations. But Darlington is quite right, somebody will have to teach her some manners. She's so wild!
Flora felt reminded of her own behaviour and quickly started a conversation with Lackerby.
"Don't you find it sad, Lord Lackerby, that love has never inflicted itself upon you? At your age? Don't you ever want to get married or have a family?"
"Oh, I'm getting married. Next year, actually."
"Really?" Flora was honestly surprised. "And to whom?"
"To a Miss Padmore. Never met her." He said it so nonchalantly, Flora thought she had misheard.
"You never met her?"
"No. I got engaged to her twelve years ago. You know, man in my position gets hunted like deer. Gained me thirteen years of liberty without assaults by ambitious mothers like— like so many."
Like mine? Is that what he wanted to say?
"TWELVE YEARS? Where is she?"
"Somewhere near Durham, I believe."
"But… I mean, why not marry her now? Why have we never seen her in London?"
Lackerby furrowed his brows. "Why would she need to come out if she's already engaged? Her family has profited immensely by it, I grant you."
Flora felt a flood of disapproving remarks coming up her throat but she forced herself not to let them out.
"Well, Sir, a girl loves to dance, a girl loves to wear beautiful gowns. Sitting for years and years in the country and waiting to get married to an unknown man sounds quite dreadful to me."