by Fanny Finch
“I think that’s rather kind of you,” he said. He didn’t know of anyone in society here who would think to do such a kind thing for their servants.
“Well, there was no one else to sketch besides Father, and he hates being sketched,” Maria said with a smile. “But as I said I didn’t do it often. I’m most likely horribly out of practice.”
“Then you must use Georgiana to get some practice again,” Edward insisted.
“Honestly,” Georgiana said to him before turning to Maria. “Pay him no attention. He is a horrible tease and will do whatever he can to get a reaction. He is tired of what he considers to be the boring mores of society and will do whatever it takes to rattle something new out of anyone.”
Maria laughed. “I do not mind, if you do not. I would be happy to sketch you or your brother. I only wish that you not place your expectations too high in regards to my talent.”
“We shall prepare ourselves for a horrible mess and then be pleasantly surprised,” Edward assured her.
It became clear that Maria’s trip had exhausted her. She had become more and more tired as dinner went on. The poor girl was obviously trying her best to maintain her energy but by the time dinner was over her eyelids were drooping and her shoulders were horribly slumped.
Edward felt oddly protective of her. She was clearly so unused to this lifestyle. Her father’s wealth would have normally given her a standard of living that was not too far off from this. Not quite to the same level of course but enough that she would not be quite so overwhelmed by everything around her. And she would have presumably been in houses such as this once or twice before.
But living out on a plantation with little to no social interaction? No wonder she was so bumbling and intimidated. It made him worry for her.
After Maria had been guided up to bed by Georgiana, Edward sat in the library. It was generally his retreat from the world. Georgiana loved the library as well for her reading and was indeed a greater reader than he was. But generally, guests tended to congregate in the parlor or sitting room. In the library, he could effectively hide from them.
Georgiana came in a short while later while he was going over some letters.
“I worry about her,” he told her.
Georgiana sighed. “I know. I confess that I worry as well. She has no idea of when to hold her tongue.”
“At least she is not saying anything that is malicious,” Edward pointed out. “She is constantly apologizing for herself.”
“She is a sweet girl,” Georgiana agreed, sitting down next to him.
“They will tear her to pieces,” Edward warned.
“I think that you are far too cynical,” Georgiana said. “You need to be kinder in thought to those around you.”
“And you are far too kind,” Edward replied. “How many times have people insinuated that you are unmarriageable? How many times have they listed all the reasons why you have not yet been proposed to? Or stated that there must be a horrible reason why you are not married, when your father has left you such a great inheritance?”
Georgiana pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands. “That is unkind of you, Edward.”
“I am not trying to be unkind. You know that I am not. But I am being honest. You know that I value honesty and I think it is important that I share my true thoughts with you. Just as I would expect you to be honest with me.
“People are cruel. Many people see this world as a competition. Who hosts the best balls. Who is more fashionable. Who can get a better husband and do it faster than the other ladies. Who can find the best wife or has the best horses.
“It’s all about beating out one another and they will see her as an easy opportunity to gain a point by hurting her. Because they will see her as just another piece of competition in whatever game they are playing.”
“And I think that you are being unfair to the many lovely people there are in society,” Georgiana replied. “Edward, honestly. I know that the past few months have been trying for you. It cannot be easy and I’m certain that you feel under attack.
“But that is no reason to put everyone in such an unflattering light. I think that you need to be more generous in your estimation of people.”
Edward scoffed. “I will be more generous when they give me reason to be.”
Georgiana gave him one of those gently chastising looks that always told him, far more than words ever could, how disappointed she was in him.
Edward sighed. He hated when Georgiana was disappointed in him. Since Mother’s death, Georgiana’s opinion was the only one that mattered to him. Father’s opinion had to matter to him. But he didn’t honestly care about it, in his heart.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish that I could have a manner more in line with your own. I wish that I could give you the answers that you wish to hear. And that I could find peace within myself.
“But I find that day will not come until people are kinder to you. And until I can dance through a ball without feeling as though I am in a river surrounded by piranhas.”
Georgiana smiled softly. “I think that you are reading too many of those fantastical publications on world explorers.”
“You must at least admit that you find the gossip draining,” Edward said.
“I admit that…yes, there are times when it does drain me,” Georgiana acknowledged. “But I also find myself having lively discussions on art. I enjoy theatre best when I am seeing a play or opera with others. It would be quite a lonely life if I was to isolate myself as you seem to want to do.”
Edward didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what else there was to say. He couldn’t think about it right now. He had so much to deal with still as the new duke and he could already feel exhaustion slipping in.
Where had his joi de vivre gone? Had it all vanished never to be recovered now that he had so many estates and assets to run?
Georgiana gave a little sigh. “Edward. I know that things have been hard for you. But it will get easier. You will learn how to balance it.”
“I fear that I am going to be the same as Father,” he admitted. “That I shall be nothing but stern and demanding for the rest of my days. That I shall become someone that everyone secretly loathes, or of whom they live in fear.”
“You are nothing like Father,” Georgiana assured him. “And the rest of society is not like him, either. There are wonderful people out there.”
“Georgiana, the only honest, genuine person I have known in months is that young lady. And it will all be beaten out of her as soon as she attends her first ball. If she is not so traumatized by the unkind things said that she ever deigns to come out of her room.”
“It will not nearly be so bad as all that,” Georgiana replied. “You are being overly dramatic.”
“We shall see who is right in a month’s time,” Edward said grimly. If a month could be enough to help make up for years without proper tutelage, he would be greatly surprised. But one could always hope.
“If you will not have faith in society,” Georgiana said, tThen at least have faith in Miss Worthing. She seems to me to be a lovely and vivacious girl. She had great spirit.”
“She is also facing a total upheaval of everything that she knows,” Edward pointed out. “Her father is dying. Or at least he believes that he is, and the doctors seem to think so as well. He is putting his affairs in order and no longer hiding his condition.
“She has no friends, no one to turn to. She will be eager to make new acquaintances and she will be easily hurt when she is rebuffed.”
“I think that she is of sterner stuff than you make her out to be,” Georgiana said. “I appreciate how protective you are of her, Edward. But you cannot keep her from society. Nor can you keep yourself. Or me, for that matter.”
Edward wanted to throw his hands up in despair but knew that would not lead to anything. Instead he nodded stiffly. “Well, time will tell soon enough.”
Personally, he thought that Georgiana was overesti
mating all three of them. Georgiana was the stoic sort. But she tended to endure and endure, in silence, until she simply dropped in exhaustion from it.
Edward did not wish for her to keep suffering in silence. Nor did he wish for Miss Worthing’s light to be snuffed out, so to speak. And his own patience was running thin. He was almost considering running to the highlands and becoming a hermit or barbarian or something of the kind.
But it seemed that he would make no headway that evening. So he said nothing, and merely announced that he would retire to bed.
They would find out in a month or so which one of them was right. And while he did so hate to be in a position where the other person got the chance to say I told you so…
Well, he almost wished that his sister was right. If only so that all three of them might not suffer more than they already had.
Chapter 5
Maria despaired of ever getting anything right.
It felt as though every day was filled with nothing but Miss Reginald’s tutelage. Maria often felt as though she ought to be placed under the care of a governess or a tutor.
Miss Reginald would have none of that. She was a very quiet woman, as Maria was learning. But that quietness hid a very strong character.
“I will not parcel you off to a governess or a tutor as though you were a child,” Miss Reginald said on one occasion when Maria tried to bring it up again. “You are an adult. And a highly intelligent one as well. I will not have you treated in such a manner as though you were a dunce.”
Maria often felt like a dunce, however.
For one thing, who knew that there was so much about fashion and dresses of which she had been previously unaware?
She knew the basic rules of propriety when it came to dressing, of course. And she knew what colors she liked to wear.
But now there was so much else that came into it. There were the colors that went well with her complexion, which she must take care to wear. But that wasn’t all, for she must also think of what colors were in season.
And beyond what season it was—winter, spring, summer, fall—there was the ‘season’ of society, the London season, and the colors that were most popular that year. But she must of course not wear the same colors as everyone else or they would all be embarrassed.
“It is a thin line,” Miss Reginald told her, “between going well with the fashions and imitating them too greatly.”
Maria had no idea how to do that. She ended up letting Miss Reginald pick out her fabrics and cuts for her. She simply despaired of getting it right herself.
“Why can I not simply wear what I like to wear?” she asked.
“You may wear what you like,” Miss Robinson replied, “in the context of the rest.”
Maria thought that very frustrating. Why could people not simply wear what they wanted to wear?
“You are fortunate,” the dressmaker told her at one point, “very fortunate indeed, my lady. Miss Reginald, she is a duke’s daughter, now a duke’s sister. And in London. She sets the fashions, my lady, that she does.”
Maria had no idea what that meant. She had asked Miss Reginald about it, and she had sighed.
“It means that since I occupy such a high place in society and I am directly in London where all the fashions begin, what I wear shall be copied by everyone. That means, as my friend, you can find out what I am wearing and copy me before the others. Or perhaps your taste might even influence mine.”
None of that seemed to make sense to Maria. Of course she wanted to look her best, who didn’t? And of course she cared about what she looked like. But she wanted to wear the things she wanted to wear without worrying about what others thought. Or what others were wearing.
Table manners were another source of frustration. She had not realized how much hers had slipped until now. She felt quite like a barbarian.
When she said so, the duke had laughed. “You are not nearly as bad as all that,” he had assured her.
The duke overall seemed rather amused by her. Almost like an older brother. He was very kind to her as well.
Maria only wished that she should not be so tongue-tied about him or around him.
It was only that he was so handsome and charming. He always seemed to have the perfect, witty thing to say no matter what the situation.
Maria knew that Miss Reginald did not always appreciate her brother’s comments. Maria wanted to ask her about them but thought that might be rude. And she was being terribly rude all the time without trying.
She honestly hadn’t realized how much her skills had slipped during her time alone with her father. She doubted that Father himself knew. Business and his health had occupied much of his time the last few years.
Now she was learning just how much she had forgotten or had never learned in the first place. Many things that her mother had taught her were now out of date. It made sense, for Mother had been teaching her things that were respectful when she was a lady in London and that had been nineteen years ago.
Still, Maria was surprised at how much some things had changed. For example, the dances she knew were all horribly out of date.
“Not really anyone dances the way you do anymore,” Miss Reginald said. She sounded apologetic. But she always did. Maria wanted to tell her that there was nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t Miss Reginald’s fault that Maria was so horribly unprepared to enter London society.
That meant that dance lessons had to be added on top of everything else. Miss Reginald agreed to a tutor on that at least.
Lord Reginald would often stop by to help be Maria’s partner. Part of her loved that he did so. Part of her wished that he wouldn’t.
Miss Reginald would sometimes scold him in her very gentle way.
“Do you not have business to be attending to?” she would ask.
Lord Reginald would always reply that business could wait but a lady’s skills in dance were always of the utmost importance. Maria could not be sure how much he was teasing when he said that. Sometimes he would say something that was ostensibly a lighthearted comment. But there would be a weight underneath that cut through his tone and made her wonder if he was being serious or if bitterness had claimed him.
She worried about him. He seemed to be easily frustrated when it came to discussions about society. He seemed to take little joy in the prospect of balls or even going to the theatre since it involved seeing other people.
Maria disliked the prospect of someone being unable to find joy in other people and in life. But she dared not ask about it.
Perhaps, her fanciful mind conjured up, he had been abandoned by a woman that he loved. Or his best friend had thrown him over in order to win the favor of another lord.
These were childish little fantasies that did little to explain his manner. But sometimes she could not help but indulge in them.
Logic would inevitably prevail in the end. What lady would dare to refuse the engagement proposal of a duke? Even if she did not love him—well, Miss Reginald had taken time to warn her about that.
“Many marriages are not about love and that should not be at the forefront of your mind when you are getting to know a gentleman,” she said. “The passionate love of Romeo and Juliet, of Guinevere and Lancelot, is not one that a young lady should hope for.
“Should it come to you, then by all means seize it. But sense, not sensibility, should prevail. You are looking for a man who can take care of you.
“That man should be of a disposition that appeals to you. You do not want to make yourself miserable if you can help it. And if one party in the marriage is miserable then usually both are.
“But do not sit about and wait for a prince charming to sweep you off your feet, my dear. You must think with your head and not with your heart. Find yourself a man with a good income, who is sensible and kind, and then you shall have met your husband.”
If the fiery love of fairy tales was not to be hoped for, then what lady dared to refuse a man such as Lord Reginald? Unless another
duke proposed to her, and such an idea seemed unlikely.
And then the idea of a best friend throwing Lord Reginald off to gain favor with another—again, preposterous. Who would abandon a close friendship with a duke?
Sometimes, Maria would jokingly curse Lord Reginald’s status as a duke—in her mind. Her little curious fantasies would make so much more sense were he not in such a powerful social position.
Whatever the reason for Lord Reginald’s dislike of society, however, he was nothing but kind to her.
He would accompany her and Miss Reginald on walks to the parks. Maria loved to sketch there and was permitted to spend a few hours there if she liked so long as she also had time to work on her social skills.