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Edenbrooke
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Chapter 13
T
o make good on my resolution to learn from other elegant ladies, I joined Lady Caroline in the drawing room the next morning, even though it went against my natural inclinations. I longed for a brisk walk through the woods. Or a ride. Anything but being confined to this chair and this room and the polite conversation of polite women. But this sacrifice was one of the changes I was making in order to improve myself. Lady Caroline looked pleased when I joined her.
The third visitors of the day were Mrs. Fairhurst and her daughter, Miss Grace, who lived just three miles away. Mrs. Fairhurst entered the room grandly, seeming to dominate the elegant apartment with her bold, sweeping gaze and the lofty tilt of her head. I recognized her sort from other ladies I had met in Bath. She was well dressed but looked as if she were trying too hard to appear elegant. Her lace was a bit too elaborate, her laugh a bit too shrill, her bearing a bit too dignified. She was moving up in the world—probably the daughter of a wealthy tradesman. I knew I wouldn’t like her as soon as she entered the room.
Miss Grace looked just like her name. She was tall and willowy with a long neck, rich brown curls, and large green eyes. She walked sedately with a dignified air and greeted me in a soft, cultured voice without any undue emotion. Noting her creamy white skin, I was certain she never went outside without a bonnet, something which I had been guilty of many times. I was also fairly certain she was not the type to snort when she laughed. Here was a clearly wealthy, elegant, accomplished young lady—the very epitome of what my grandmother would have me become—and I was struck with a pang of inferiority.
Mrs. Fairhurst turned her attention to me as Lady Caroline served tea.
“Have you traveled much, Miss Daventry?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me over her teacup.
“No, not much.”
“Have you ever been to London?”
“No,” I answered, feeling as if a trap was being set for me.
She looked shocked in an exaggerated way, opening her eyes wide while looking at Miss Grace, who sat next to me. “Never been to London? What a pity. You must have heard how admired Grace was last season. She was one of the most courted ladies in Town. Was she not, Lady Caroline?”
Lady Caroline smiled politely. “Was she?”
“Why, of course she was! You must remember. Where is Sir Philip? He can tell you. He danced with Grace several times himself, did he not?”
Grace nodded, and Mrs. Fairhurst went on, but I stopped paying attention. My mind had caught on one word, and I couldn’t move my thoughts beyond it. She had called him Sir Philip. But he was not the eldest son; Charles was. Charles had the title. Not Philip. Why did Lady Caroline not correct her?
Mrs. Fairhurst laughed through her nose. “Miss Daventry, I feel so sorry for you, having never been to London. You really must see a little more of the world if you hope to become the sort of interesting lady that would attract a husband.”
I knew I wouldn’t like this woman. I debated what I could say to her to put her in her place, and then decided that I probably couldn’t say anything since she was Lady Caroline’s guest. So I lowered my eyes, took a sip of my bitter tea, and wondered what in the world she had meant by calling him Sir Philip.
Lady Caroline cleared her throat. “Mrs. Fairhurst, I have heard you are making some improvements on your house.”
“Oh, yes, we certainly are.” She began reciting a loud, detailed description of her estate while Lady Caroline listened with an air of polite forbearance.
Under the cover of her mother’s talking, Miss Grace turned to me. Her eyes were kind and she smiled hesitantly. “I was looking forward to meeting you. I hope we can be friends.”
I nearly choked on my tea. I studied her before answering, but found nothing but innocence in her eyes.
“I should like that,” I said. I took a deep breath. Why was it so stuffy in here? Had someone lit the fire? I cleared my throat. “I heard your mother refer to Sir Philip. But is she not mistaken? Isn’t Sir Charles the eldest?”
She looked surprised. “Well, yes, of course. But he died five years ago.”
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Edenbrooke
Julianne Donaldson
Edenbrooke - Julianne Donaldson
https://isach.info/story.php?story=edenbrooke__julianne_donaldson