Keeping the Castle - By Patrice Kindl Page 0,46

immediate castle grounds. I began to turn onto a path that led through a small copse of trees when the Baron said in an expressionless voice, “Ah, yes. One of Miss Charity’s favorite walks.”

“Oh!” I said. “You are quite right. So it is. Perhaps, as you have spent a good deal of time with my stepsister lately, you would prefer to try something different? The cliff walk for instance? I know Charity dislikes it—it is rather windy.”

“By all means!” agreed the Baron. Then, remembering his manners, he added, “If it is agreeable to you, Miss Vincy, that is.”

Miss Vincy said that she would be pleased to walk the cliffs, as she had never done so before, and we soon gained the path that led towards the sea. Her artist’s eye was delighted with the sun glittering on the placid sea far below and the vast panorama laid out before us. The wind, however, was powerful enough to necessitate our each taking a gentleman’s arm to steady us, and I called Fido back to me, away from the edge. I took care to secure the Baron’s arm and, as the other two proceeded ahead of us, I was pleased to note how happy she seemed, pointing out details of the scene below. She looked quite attractive, with the wind in her hair and her color high.

The Baron said, “You have grown fond of Miss Vincy, I think?”

I turned to him. “Oh I have! Very fond.”

“Yes, she seems genteel enough—surprising, really, given the father. ’Tis a pity about the smallpox,” he mused. “Without the scars she might have been tolerable-looking, but with them—!”

“Oh, but there is so much more to Miss Vincy than her looks or her parentage,” I cried, feeling a prick of annoyance on my friend’s account. “Fie, Lord Boring! Do not make me think that you see so little below the surface!”

I was not smiling as I said it and he reddened. “I beg your pardon. I was only thinking that few men will want to marry her save for her fortune. We men, you know, are more apt to be beguiled by a lovely face than a worthy nature.”

“Only to discover your mistake,” I retorted, “after the first six months of marriage.”

He laughed. “Oh I doubt many men who marry for love look past the first six months.”

“Then, Baron, men are greater fools than I thought.” I said this with a good deal of vigor, and Lord Boring looked a little taken aback. I could not repent of it, however.

“Of course,” he said after a brief silence, “some young ladies combine great beauty with great good nature,” and he smiled, with the clear intention of paying me a compliment.

“Oh?” I enquired testily. “They may be rarer than you think.”

We walked for a time without speaking, during which I mentally shook myself all over and came to my senses. What was the matter with me? I had always known, ever since I was thirteen years old and men first began to look at me, that beauty was power, the only real power (other than cash in hand) that a woman could possess. I knew it was transitory, and must be used shrewdly and well in the few years it lasted.

It had seemed the natural order of things. And I was one of the lucky ones. Why should I question it?

“I beg your pardon, Lord Boring,” I said. “That was rude. Sometimes it is difficult to be a woman.”

He rallied at my apology, responding, “Oh, but Miss Crawley, lovely as you are, surely you of all ladies cannot find being a woman to be a burden!”

Ah well. He was charming, handsome, wealthy, and titled. I supposed it was a bit much to expect him not to be a fool like the rest of his sex.

Having reestablished Lord Boring as my admirer and broken the seeming stranglehold my stepsister had had upon his company (for now that my posing sessions were completed, he reverted to his former habits, joining me as we sat or walked or rode), I turned my attention to other matters. I must find a way to spur Mr. Fredericks on to propose to Miss Vincy. I decided that, as Mr. Godalming continued to call at the castle and the Park, staring morosely at Miss Vincy and making occasional attempts to converse with her, I might as well make use of him.

Perhaps this was wrong of me, but I could not quite forgive Mr. Godalming for first abusing