Earl's Well That Ends Well (The Way to a Lord's Heart #5) - Jane Ashford Page 0,41
let loose on the stage.” She thumped the tabletop with her fist. “Lumbering along.”
“You aren’t big enough to be an elephant,” replied Miss Moran.
“An ox,” said Miss Finch. “Or a donkey. Yes, like Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. We could make you a papier-mâché headpiece.”
Miss Deeping made a face at her.
“The dancing master at school was always praising you, Harriet,” said Miss Moran.
“That was not ballet,” Miss Finch pointed out. “And he was a…beslubbering boar-pig, as Tom would put it.”
Tom gave her a nod and an understanding look.
“What do you mean?” asked Miss Moran.
“Monsieur Lagrange knew I was poor and powerless. Then. So he thought he could whisper his disgusting little compliments in my ear.” She shrugged. “And I do not believe he was really French either.”
The other three young ladies looked shocked. Teresa was intrigued. It seemed Miss Finch had been impoverished, and now she was rich. Perhaps this was why she seemed the most interesting of them, although all four were out of the common way.
“You never said anything,” said Miss Deeping.
Miss Finch waved this aside. “There was no point. Nothing would have been done.”
“You could write to your school now and tell them,” said Teresa quietly.
The younger girl met her eyes. They exchanged a brief silent communication, and then Miss Finch nodded once.
“I know you are not serious about becoming opera dancers,” Teresa added. “But you cannot, you know.” She looked around the group.
“I wonder what my father would do if he found me there on one of his ‘visits,’” said Miss Grandison, who had been uncharacteristically silent.
“Have an apoplexy?” suggested Miss Finch.
Miss Grandison muttered something inaudible.
“I’ve been hanging about with the dancers and keeping my eyes open,” said Tom. “I’ll go on with that.” He gave Teresa a sidelong glance, as if suggesting she might join him.
The thought of frequenting the dancers’ retiring room, watching the gentlemen prey on them, most likely receiving unwanted attentions herself, filled Teresa with repulsion. Sad distaste welled up in her, turning the food sour in her stomach. But she still longed to help. “I will talk to each dancer again. I haven’t pressed as hard as I might.” Their situation set up rivalries. Many were reluctant to reveal good sources of income and so would not tell which gentlemen had been particularly attentive. Her impulsive “claiming” of Lord Macklin would help her there. If any girls had considered her to be competition, perhaps they wouldn’t now.
As if her thoughts had brought him to mind, Miss Deeping turned to her and said, “Are you expecting Macklin today?”
Here it was. They were not going to ignore her rash words as she had begun to hope. Teresa faced a circle of friendly, but inquisitive eyes. “No,” she said.
“We thought he was often here,” the angular girl said.
“No,” said Teresa again. “Often” was a vague designation. Who was to say what it signified?
There was a short silence. The ladies seemed to be searching for the right phrase. Tom looked brightly interested, and gave her no help at all.
“We don’t mean to pry,” said Miss Moran apologetically. “It’s just that we are rather protective of him.”
“Why should a nobleman with his wealth and position need your protection?” The earl clearly didn’t. He…oozed assurance.
“‘Protection’ isn’t quite the word,” said Miss Grandison. The other ladies all nodded. “More what he has given to us.”
“Interest and…encouragement,” said Miss Finch.
“An open mind,” said Miss Moran.
“Acknowledgment,” added Miss Deeping.
“Help when sorely needed,” said Miss Grandison.
They began to exchange anecdotes about Lord Macklin’s role in their autumn adventure. They made him sound like some sort of guardian angel, scattering happiness across the land. It occurred to Teresa that this description would utterly revolt him. She smiled at the thought of telling him. “And what right had he to step in?” she asked after a while.
“He worried about that,” said Miss Grandison. “Peter told me they discussed the matter.” She smiled. “He told me he’s learned a good deal from Macklin’s example.”
Had the earl asked the young ladies to come here and plead his case? Teresa didn’t think that was it. And it didn’t matter, because there was no case. He had none. But these were intelligent women. Their opinions were of value, even though they didn’t know what aristocratic men got up to when their wives and mothers were not present. Look at Miss Grandison’s father. Still, they had affirmed her changing opinion of the earl. She was oddly glad about that. “I need to return to my work.”