Not appeased, Lydia heatedly continued, “You disgraced us all today with your thoughtlessness and unthinking behavior. Oh, don’t think I don’t sympathize. Coming from a country as uncivilized as Ireland, you simply don’t know any better. I fear you’ll be dreadfully out of place. Quite frankly, if it were up to me, I would most readily grant your wish not to attend the at-home tonight, or any events of the Season. However, Lord Trevlyn insists you go. Imagine. He actually thinks you can learn the social graces overnight and become an accepted member of our Polite World.”
Bettina whinnied. Charlotte burst into a gale of giggles and exclaimed, “Our Irish princess will never fit in. You know that yourself, don’t you, Evleen?”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said Amanda, boldly speaking up again. “Did you not see Lord Thomas when he brought her home? He seemed quite taken with her.”
All laughter ceased abruptly. A silence followed, during which Evleen could almost see the waves of resentment wafting in her direction.
Lydia finally responded, “Lord Thomas is a most compassionate man, Amanda. You would be wise not to mistake charity for affection.”
Charlotte glared at her younger sister. “Anyway, you’re mistaken. Lord Thomas harbors a secret affection for me, and always has. A pity he’s only a second son, or I might have considered him, especially since he is rather handsome, and most charming. However–” she shrugged a shoulder in mock indifference “—Montague will be proposing soon.”
Bettina sniggered. “The way things are going, you’ll turn into a dried-up old ape leader waiting for Montague.”
“Girls,” Lydia said sharply. “Not another word. We all know Montague is on the brink of proposing.”
“What if he doesn’t?” asked Amanda.
“Then there are other first sons in this world,” declared Lydia.
Bettina said, “If you ask me, I’m the one Lord Thomas holds a special affection for. Just look how he dotes on my embroidery. He’ll be proposing soon, too,”
“I’m sure he will, Bettina,” Lydia said fiercely, “and your father and I shall approve, even though he’s only a second son.” She sighed wistfully. “I would have wanted first sons for all of you, but apparently that’s not to be.”
Pierce announced their carriage had arrived at the front entrance. Accompanying the Trevlyns from the drawing room, Evleen wondered, first son? second son? How could a man’s station in life so totally depend on the order in which he was born? Apparently it did, though, and she thought it very strange.
* * *
“So this is a rout?” Evleen murmured, incredulous.
She had pictured a dignified evening in which elegantly dressed men and women would dance, congenially converse, take refreshments, and play cards. Her first indication that her expectations were woefully wrong came when the Trevlyns’ carriage became caught in a horrific jam of horses, coaches and carriages, all waiting to approach Lord and Lady Beckford’s front portico. At least fifteen minutes passed before they reached it, then had to fight their way through a crowd of elegantly dressed men and women to obtain entrance. After a hasty greeting by their harried-looking hostess, they fought their way up the packed staircase to a series of rooms on the first floor where everyone seemed to be milling about with no purpose. There appeared to be no place to sit. “Where are the chairs?” asked Evleen.
“Nobody sits,” whispered Amanda.
“But what on earth are we supposed to do? Where’s the conversation, the cards, the music? Where’s the food?”
“You don’t understand. All we’re supposed to do is elbow our way through the crowd, and then, after a quarter of an hour or so, we leave.”
“But how could they enjoy this?” Evleen asked, gazing at Lydia, Charlotte and Bettina, who despite the crush, were smiling brightly, appearing to be having a delightful time.
“We come to see and be seen,” answered Amanda. “It’s essential in high society. We have to entertain and be entertained to maintain our standing. That’s just the way it is.”
Standing indeed. Evleen refrained from voicing her opinion of what utter foolishness she thought this all was, or how she could make better use of her time staying at home with a good book. She breathed a sigh of relief when, after she’d been jostled and her toes trampled several times, they finally reached the street again. As they waited amidst the milling crowd for their carriage, Evleen took a gulp of fresh air and said softly to Amanda, “Thank the saints, that’s over. Now we can go home.”