by Fanny Finch
The plants and animals were not so varied in England as they were in the Caribbean. The differences in the flowers were subtler. And the shades were paler, pastel. But she was coming to enjoy them.
The machinations of the local squirrels were very interesting for her to record. They seemed to have their own loves, their own births and deaths, their own little dramas. It could just be her own flights of fancy again, true. But it gave her something lighthearted to focus on while she continued to sink into despair about her own situation.
She kept expecting Miss Reginald to give up on her. To hire a governess or to simply tell her that it was no use. Maria knew that the Reginalds had much better things to do than to spend their time helping her.
Except that whenever she tried to bring it up, neither of them would hear of it.
“Better things to do?” Miss Reginald said, quoting Maria’s words back at her. “My dear, do not trouble yourself. I have nothing I would rather be doing. This is a most interesting exercise for me as well in terms of remembering what the rules are. I would not like to be rusty myself.
“And of course I can call upon my friends and sometimes do. But there is little else to do when the season is about to begin. There are things to do outside of the season but when it is so close to starting everyone is far too busy with preparations to bother with morning calls.
“I should be quite bored without you here to keep me company, I can assure you. You are not imposing upon me in the slightest.”
Lord Reginald did not say anything directly to her. But she noticed that he took pains to be even more interested in her goings-on than before. It was as if he was trying to silently say that if she was going to think he had little interest, he was going to be stubborn by showing her even more interest.
He was quite a contradictory man overall. Maria said as much to Miss Reginald one night, close to the beginning of the season.
It had been nearly a month. Maria had picked up the dancing quickly but that felt like the only thing with which she could call herself accomplished. Her dresses were all made but that had been thanks to Miss Reginald’s taste, not Maria’s.
She was still dreading the first ball, which was to be in a few days’ time. What if she said the wrong thing? What if she was impolite? What if she forgot which fork to use? What if…
Those fears swirled around her head constantly. That night they were sitting in front of the fire and reading. Miss Reginald was fond of her poetry. She had been educating Maria on it so that Maria might converse on the topic easily with others.
“There are also games that are played,” Miss Reginald explained. “Word games and riddles, and often they involve poetry. You ought to be prepared. And besides, there is no harm in expanding one’s mind and gaining a new accomplishment and topic of conversation.”
They were reading, then, and Maria could not help but bring it up. Lord Reginald had just exited, after making one of his little aside remarks. This time it had been about the amount of time ladies took looking at themselves in the mirrors.
Maria had pointed out that men often did the same. “I have seen many an officer at the fort doing as much back home.”
“Men are just as guilty of it, that is true,” Lord Reginald replied. “I suppose I shall have to despise both equally, then.”
He had then exited, saying something about letters.
Maria looked over at Miss Reginald. “Has your brother had a great wrong done to him?” she asked.
“Whatever do you mean?” Miss Reginald asked.
“I mean only that—and of course it is not my business—he seems to hold some kind of grudge against society.” Maria smiled tentatively. “I keep expecting him to announce a duel against society at large.”
Miss Reginald smiled. Maria had never seen Miss Reginald laugh in all the time that she had known her.
While she had her doubts about Lord Reginald and his motives, she had little doubt about Miss Reginald. There was a kind of mourning about her. Something very deep and quiet but very sad. Like the ocean, almost.
Maria wondered if it was her father’s death, or her mother’s, that had led Miss Reginald to be so solemn. But she could not deny that whatever it was, there was something inside Miss Reginald that was sad and broken and would not be easily repaired.
Still, it was pleasing to know that she could get Miss Reginald to smile. Maria would happily settle for that.
“My brother has had no specific injury done to him,” Miss Reginald said. “It is only that he occupies a certain position in life. One that many women are eager to seize.”
Maria frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You are a sweet girl,” Miss Reginald told her. “I am glad that you are. You do not think as others do and I am not certain if it is a benefit to you or a weakness.
“In any case, my dear, I mean that he ought to marry. A titled man without an heir is in a position of danger. We know better than most how life can be so cruelly changed in an instant. Should my brother die without an heir, there would be an uproar. A most distant cousin should inherit. It would throw everyone into great confusion.
“But of course to have an heir, he must marry. And soon. His position is rather the same as yours, in fact. You both are pressed for time.
“The ladies of society know this. As do their mothers. We have so many invitations not only because of our wealth and title but because my brother is unmarried. The mothers are inviting us in the hopes that he will take a liking to one of their daughters.”
“That is rather…mercenary of them, is it not?” Maria asked.
“You might see it that way, my dear, but are you not going to be doing the same thing with the other men?” Miss Reginald pointed out. “You have to secure a proposal by the end of the season. These young ladies are often in a similar predicament.
“Is it not fair for their mothers to wish for the best husband for their daughters? And for the young ladies to wish for the best husband for themselves?
“If a man enters the clergy and eventually climbs his way up to become the head of the church, we applaud him. If a lawyer wins many cases, we applaud him as well. Officers in the navy are expected to eventually become admirals.
“If we applaud ambition in a man then why not in a woman? A woman cannot pass the bar, or enter the clergy, or join the navy. Her profession is to marry. And so why should she not be ambitious in the same way as her male counterparts?”
“But when it comes to a man’s profession, hearts are not on the line,” Maria pointed out. “It seems to me that your brother has a right to feel agitation if he is being assaulted by these ladies.
“When they seek to catch him, they are toying with his affections as well. I can speak only for myself, but I should like to know that my spouse esteems me for who I am. Not for my money or because he has no other choice in whom he is to marry.
“I would like to know that I am truly valued by my husband. And if I wish that, then surely the man has a right to wish for the same from his wife.
“I am certain that despite the professional side of marriage for women, most of them marry with a certain degree of personal esteem for their husband.”
“This is very true,” Miss Reginald said. “And I agree with you. But many women feel a great deal of pressure from their families. Especially from their mothers. Many of them, I am sure, feel that the esteem will come after the marriage.
“Or it could very well be that they have a different sort of esteem in mind when they are thinking of marriage. For some women a husband who will provide for them and who is good-looking is all that they need.
“Many marriages are, after all, held rather separately. I can name several where the husband and wife rarely see one another or converse. Except in a public setting where they have been invited together such as a ball.
“Even then, there might be little in the way of leading one to think that they are married to one another.”
Maria considered that. “I th
ink that is quite distressing,” she said at last. “My mother and father greatly cared for one another. Of course there was nothing that I could see outside the realm of propriety. In front of me, in any case.
“But I could always tell that however proper they were in front of others, there was much more tenderness that was done behind closed doors.
“They had this way of looking at one another…I have rarely seen it replicated. It was as though they were…astonished, almost, that the other person should be so wonderful, and should exist, and should have chosen to be married to them.”
“That sounds beautiful,” Miss Reginald said. “If only we could all strive for such a union.”
“I wish that I could strive for it,” Maria replied.
“But your parents might not have begun that way,” Miss Reginald pointed out. “They were married a year before you were born. And I doubt you remember the first couple of years of your life with too much clarity.
“It could be that they grew into this tenderness for one another. And that you were simply too young to properly witness it.”
“That could very well be true,” Maria acknowledged. “But I hope that I might feel at least the beginnings of such views towards my husband when he proposes.”
“We all hope for such things,” Miss Reginald replied. “I am only telling you so that your hopes might not be dashed too roughly. And so that you might understand the position of these ladies.
“I do not appreciate how they fling themselves at my brother, either. I think that there is a way to do it with much more subtlety and propriety than the methods that they employ. But nor do I appreciate my brother’s method of condemning everyone.
“We are all just looking to be loved, Miss Worthing. Remember that. We all wish to be safe and secure. To be taken care of. And to be made to feel wanted in someone’s life.
“That is all that there is to it. Remember that and you will find that compassion never leaves your heart.”
Maria thought that Miss Reginald might be the kindest person she had ever met. “I shall strive to remember that, Miss.”
Miss Reginald smiled at her. “Good. Now, the hour is late and we have much to do in the next few days.”
She did not say, ‘to try to prepare you’ but Maria knew what Miss Reginald meant. Maria was not at all feeling prepared for this first ball. They had even been invited to dinner beforehand.
How on earth was she going to survive?
“Oh my dear, you look as if you are going to be led to the guillotine,” Miss Reginald said. The words might have been teasing coming from anyone else. From Miss Reginald, they were sympathetic. “Do not worry. It will not be nearly so bad as you fear.”
Maria could only hope that Miss Reginald was right and that this would all be easier than she had anticipated.
Chapter 6
It was worse than Edward had feared.
If his sister had been a man then he would have put a wager down upon their little disagreement as to how society would welcome Miss Worthing.
Then he would now be collecting a tidy sum.
It wasn’t that he was happy to be winning their little bet. Far from it. He had been hoping a little that his sister would be right and the society he had come to see as a pack of wolves would actually be kind to Miss Worthing.
But it looked as though their more gossip-ridden natures were winning out.
Edward was personally compiling a list of all the women who spoke ill of or towards Miss Worthing. He should not be marrying any of them. A woman who made fun of a poor girl doing her best was not the sort of woman he wanted for his spouse and life partner.
For a wife was a partner, truly, in every sense of the word. Especially when a man ran as large of an estate as Edward did, being a duke.
A wife had to be depended upon to run the household and sometimes the estate itself, the outer lands, while Edward was traveling or in town on business. His wife would have to help him with keeping the accounts and would of course be in charge of finding a proper governess and tutor to raise the children in any ways she was not raising them herself.
She would have to plan meals and dinners and balls. She would have to be allied with her husband in whom they considered friends and whose invitations they would accept or ignore.
Edward needed a proper partner. Someone to whom he could entrust his estate. Especially if something were to happen to him and his son—for there must be a son—was too young to take charge himself. His wife would need to be in charge of things until then.
How could he possibly trust any woman with what she said to his face, when these women were smiling to Miss Worthing’s face and then turning around and gossiping behind her back?
He could never be certain that his wife was doing things as she should. He would have to double-check everything. He could not leave her alone.
No, none of these women were for him. Even more so because he personally could not be around someone who had such a callous nature.
Things had started out inconspicuously enough. Miss Worthing looked very fetching in her new dress. Edward took care to say so. The poor girl looked terrified in the carriage ride over and needed all the confidence that she could get.
When he told her that she looked lovely, Miss Worthing got the slightest blush in her upper cheeks. It was quite becoming . It would perhaps have been too much on a paler woman but with her tan from the tropics, it looked quite nice.
It had not escaped Edward’s notice that his sister had instructed the seamstress to make Miss Worthing’s dress similar to her own in coloring and style.
It was a clever move, if he did say so himself. Georgiana’s dress was of a darker blue, the style a bit daring, as befitted a woman of high ranking who was fashion-forward and of an older age.
Miss Worthing’s dress was in a lighter blue but cut from the same fabric style with the same light embroidery pattern on it. The cut of it was a little less daring but clearly in the same style.
It was a statement of intent to any other lady in attendance. Such a similarity in dresses, and arriving together, was not a coincidence. It told all the ladies present that Miss Worthing and Georgiana were friends. Why else would the sister of a duke let a woman lower in station than she was wear such a similar dress?
Miss Worthing would never be allowed to get away with it if she and Georgiana were not close and on good terms. Right away, Edward had hoped that would protect Miss Worthing a little.
All it had done was ensure that the gossip about her was said out of earshot of Georgiana.
They were high enough in society that all three of them had been invited to dinner. Miss Worthing had been asked because Georgiana had sent word round to all the households that Miss Worthing was to be treated as a sister to her and all invitations to Georgiana must also be extended to Miss Worthing.
Edward had held his breath a little as they had entered. Miss Worthing had walked presentably, but she had not truly glided as a lady should. And one could plainly see the awe in her face as she cast furtive looks around at the table and the furnishings.
Act as though this is the least impressive dining room you have ever seen, he wanted to hiss at her. Pretend that it is a hovel if you must!
Miss Worthing had once asked what was so wrong about being impressed with the furnishings and décor of a host’s house.
“Of course, one may do so politely,” Georgiana had answered. “But to do so in excess is to showcase one’s lack of acquaintance with the finer things in life. And to showcase that is to declare yourself meaner than they are in annual income, and lower in station.
“If you act as though you are lower in station, they will treat you as such. And we do not want to give them the opportunity.”
Miss Worthing was giving them plenty of opportunity now, however. She kept her mouth shut but her wide eyes said it all as she took in the food and the table arrangements.
Things only got worse when the conversation started.
&nbs
p; “Where did you say that you were from again, Miss Worthing?” asked Miss Hennings.
Edward already disliked Miss Hennings. She was a catty woman who thought of nothing and nobody except herself. She had tried to insinuate herself into his affections long ago. He had shot her down, as graciously as he could. She seemed to take it as a personal quest to make him and his associates miserable ever since.
“The Caribbean,” Miss Worthing said, smiling. She suspected not a thing, the innocent girl. “It was quite lovely there—”
She tried to explain about her home. Edward knew how much she loved it there and how she missed it. The weather especially was hard on her. She was constantly cold.