Madeline said, her foot tapping with some impatience. âThen it is surprising that she does not attach the title âLadyâ to her name.â
âOh.â Maisie smirked. âI did not say that she was the
Earl
of Harrowbyâs daughter, my dear.â
Madeline turned her head to stare at her, her eyes hostile. âIndeed?â was all she said.
âYou do not know the story?â Maisie asked. âI did not know myself until Lady Lawrence told me.â
âNo,â Madeline said, âand I am not excessively interested in gossip, Maisie.â
âOh, this is not gossip,â the other said, two spots of color appearing high on her cheekbones. âI would not indulge in gossip. You should know me better than that, Madeline dear. This is quite true, and such an old story that everyone knows it anyway. So one cannot be accused of being malicious. But I thought you would want to be warned, my dear. In a place like this, one does not always know quite with whom one is cultivating an acquaintance, does one? It is an act of simple friendship to warn someone when one is privy to some unsavory story.â
Madeline looked at her coldly. âI see Lieutenant Penworth approaching,â she said. âI have promised him the next set. I thought the music would never resume, didnât you?â
âHow inopportune!â Maisie said. âI will call one afternoon if I may, my dear, and give you the full details. Lady Amberley would doubtless be grateful to know too.â
âWe both plan to be out that afternoon,â Madeline said with a smile before turning with a far more sparkling one for the lieutenant.
That dazzled officer would not have known from her manner during the following twenty minutes that she was seething with indignation. Maisie had always specialized in character assassination, and yet no amount of pointed insult seemed to penetrate her armor of self-righteousness. One could probably tell Maisie with oneâs mouth six inches from her ear that she was an ass and she would still simper and call one her âdear.â
Â
L ORD E DEN DANCED the opening set with Jennifer. She was looking extremely lovely, he thought, and sparkled with an excitement that many very young ladies tried to hide behind a pretense of sophisticated boredom. Although she still blushed every time she looked into his eyes, she seemed to have recovered the use of her tongue in his presence.
When the pattern of the dance allowed conversation, he questioned her about her years at school, and delighted in the humor with which she recalled several incidents there. She had spent her holidays in London with Charlieâs sister, Lady Habersham, the only member of his family, it seemed, from whom he was not estranged. But of course she had always been too young to participate in any adult entertainments.
The world was new to her, Lord Eden realized, and thought how long ago it seemed since he had looked on life with such fresh eyes. And yet he was only five-and-twenty even now. He had done a lot of growing up during the past several years, especially during the three since he had bought his commission.
He felt a tenderness for the girl. It would feel good to be in love with her. To be in love again with youth and innocence. It would be good to marry such a girl, and to spend his life protecting her from the rougher side of life. It would be good to marry Charlieâs daughter.
Charlie would be his father-in-law. Now, there was a thought!
He smiled in some amusement at Jennifer as the pattern of the dance brought them together again, and drew another blush from her.
Perhaps he would let himself fall in love with her. After this battle. Not before. He did not want any emotional entanglements before the battle. He might not survive it.
He returned Jennifer to Ellenâs side at the end of the set and went in search of Susan Jennings, who had stopped to talk with him earlier, and