Ceci did have a way of arrowing to the truth. The Season they had such hopes for was where they would meet the ladies and gentlemen of the ton who measured everyone by their birth, not just by their wealth. So they were, and always would be, a mill owner’s daughters.
“We can only hope that the countess’s influence will be an adequate substitute.” Besides, once the gentlemen of the ton saw Cecilia, her parentage would be the last thing they thought about. Beatrice kept that to herself.
“Hope and pray that I do not break out in spots,” Cecilia said with a little laugh, which made Beatrice feel five times better. When Ceci joked about her looks all was right with the world.
Cecilia leaned a little closer to the window as if that would improve her view. “I thought that the viscount was older than we are, but he seems rather small.”
“I am even shorter. Perhaps you think I should flirt with him and the two of us should make a match?”
“Not at all, dearest.” Ceci’s tone was all apology. “Your diminutive size seems perfectly natural for a woman, but for a man it is a bit odd, is it not?”
Beatrice considered him again. “He is said to be unusually short, but the red scarf is actually how I recognized him. Viscount Bendasbrook, or whatever his title is now, always wears one.” As she spoke he disappeared from sight. “According to the countess, despite his size he is manly in every way. Quite an adventurer both in the bedroom and out of it. That’s the way she described him.”
“How would she know that?” Cecilia asked, and then sighed. “I wish I did not sound so shocked. We are nineteen and I should be more sophisticated about such things.” She walked over to the dresses that were spread out across the sofa. “Do you think he and the countess had an affaire du coeur?”
“No, I do not. The countess is old enough to be his mother and besides, she was happy in her marriage and has only been widowed for just over a year. I do not think she has taken a lover yet.” A blush spoiled her try at a sophisticated comment. “Ladies gossip. Just like we are right now.”
“But this is not gossip.” Ceci paused and then went on. “Even your Roger would agree with that. This is an exchange of vital information. In fact it would be rude if we did not know as much about our fellow guests as possible. Just imagine what they must know about us.” Cecilia examined the dresses and shifted a gown from one end of the row to the other.
Beatrice surveyed the collection of dresses with her sister. The more natural waistline was very flattering on Ceci, on both of them really, and the apricot color of this particular gown would show off her sister’s perfect complexion.
“What do the other guests know about us? That we are newcomers to society and are late making our appearance among the ton because we were in mourning for Mama, God rest her soul.”
“And that our dear mama,” Cecilia finished, “was a school friend of the countess who kindly consented to be our godmother.”
Beatrice nodded, for her part desperately wishing that Mama was part of this adventure. The pang of loss still haunted her, but a little less each day. She did not know whether to feel guilty or relieved.
“You make it all sound so simple, Beatrice. What if they think we are posers? What if they think Papa is not enough of a gentleman to associate with? We will be ignored from the first.”
“The countess would never invite guests who would treat us that way.” Maybe it would be better for Cecilia to worry about their clothes. “Now, tell me what dress I should wear tonight.”
“I have no idea.” Ceci began to wring her hands again. “Do you think we have the right clothes? Can we wear jewelry or are we too young for anything but pearls? Oh, I do wish this first meeting with the ton was over. A fortnight is a long time to look and be perfect. I do so miss Mama.”
“Sweet, dear sister.” Beatrice hugged her, rocked her back and forth. So do I, so do I, she thought. She’d always been able to calm everyone, whether the upset was caused by nerves or temper. “Mama is with us in spirit, and you could wear a flour sack