Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(100)
It was actually Lady Victoria, Flora thought, as they exchanged bobbing curtsies. The room was full of titled people, some of whom would certainly despise the daughter of an obscure scholar. Who’d been worth a dozen of any of these fribbles, she thought automatically. Flora caught herself. One did not draw conclusions before an experiment had really begun. She didn’t have proof of their witlessness. However certain she might be, she mustn’t overgeneralize. Papa had taught her more intellectual rigor than that.
“How do you do?” said Lady Victoria Moreton in a soft voice.
Everything about this daughter of the house seemed soft. She was a creature of rounded contours and wide brown eyes, several inches shorter than Flora, garbed in a white muslin gown. Her brown hair was sculpted in gentle waves about her pretty face. There was something old-fashioned about her, Flora thought, though her dress was certainly the latest thing. She looked as if she’d never had anything denied her in all her years.
“You must present Miss Jennings to the young people,” the countess said. “I think we’ve gathered quite a lively group, Miss Jennings, even so far from town.” And then, her duty done, the hostess turned to talk to Harriet.
Flora followed Lady Victoria back to the knot of guests that included Lord Robert. As they joined them, Flora was irresistibly reminded of a herd of horses, jostling and sidling when a new animal was introduced into their ranks. The idea made her smile. A medium-sized gentleman across the group smiled back.
Lady Victoria introduced her and recited a list of names, moving around the circle. Flora memorized them with the automatic precision of a trained mind. The task offered no difficulty to one who’d been drilled on cuneiform symbols from the age of seven. She was received with politeness as a minor novelty. She wasn’t someone they knew, and people like this expected to know everyone important, Flora thought. There was a stir of silent speculation when Lord Robert mentioned that they were already acquainted. “Cousin of mine,” he added.
With three words he’d slotted her into a recognized category, Flora saw—a visitor from the far edges of a great family. Possibly a poor relation, considering her gown. She couldn’t dispute such a verdict. It was perfectly true. And Lord Robert Gresham was perfectly free to point it out to his grand friends, if that was what he wished to do. Never mind his claims, this spring and summer, to value other measures of worth—intellect and education and industry. It was a very good thing she’d come here, Flora thought. If she hadn’t, she might have kept on believing him.
Everyone returned to their previous conversations. It was actually a relief not to be the center of attention any longer. At first, Flora thought they were playing some kind of geography game, naming prominent places in London. Then she realized they were establishing where they’d last met, weeks ago, during the season, with bits of reminiscence about certain balls or evening parties. As she had attended none of them, she had nothing to contribute. Members of the haut ton were rather like butterflies, she thought. They hovered, vividly colorful, above the lower reaches of society. They flitted from one gorgeous locale to another, oblivious to the misfortunes that befell others not so very far away. They were stunningly decorative. After a few minutes, she caught Harriet’s admonitory eye and remembered to smile.
Flora stood and listened. She was accustomed to being the center of lively discussions at home, but she didn’t really mind being left out of this one. The topic was dull, and anyway she would be better occupied observing and analyzing the people who were to be her companions for the next month. Now that she had their names, she could put faces to the descriptions Harriet had provided on their long journey up to Northumberland.
The room was dotted with attractive young men. Well born, well heeled, well bred, Flora thought. Well behaved, well set up. No, she was stretching now. But they were all those things. Harriet had told her that they were here for Lady Victoria. Or perhaps vice versa. Good matches, in any case, lured in by the hunting and hospitality toward a possible settlement of the girl’s future. It was a common thing, Flora knew, and she couldn’t summon quite the level of derision she might have expressed in earlier years. People had to meet, after all.
Her gaze lit on Lord Robert and skipped away before he could catch her looking. He was the handsomest of them all, in her opinion. Harriet had said he wasn’t considered a likely suitor, though he’d be welcome if he decided to show interest in Lady Victoria, ten years his junior. Only three years separated the two of them, thought Flora. Harriet had warned her to avoid mentioning her age, as some would consider twenty-five to be nearly on the shelf. Lord Robert turned to smile at a young lady with copper-colored hair. He looked delighted with her. Lady Victoria joined them. Flora felt a pang in the region of her heart. With fierce discipline, she dismissed it.
The young female guests were Lady Victoria’s age, her particular friends, Harriet had said. Flora noted that they hadn’t been chosen to make the daughter of the house shine in comparison. Several had to be judged much prettier than Lady Victoria; she must be generous or confident, or perhaps both. Flora banished a sneaking wish that she’d been less magnanimous. All the girls looked so assured and graceful in their pale muslin dresses.
Flora realized that Lord Robert was coming toward her. Her pulse sped up as he stopped by her side.
“I’ve come to beg your pardon,” he said. “I was rude. Please accept my apologies.”