way to him. But when I remembered his rank, his place in society, I could not even find the words to apologize.”
“Then let me remind you what you told me he said last night.” Cecilia nodded and Beatrice went on. “Luck and chance are all that separate the heir to a dukedom from the rest of mankind. Or something like that.”
“And,” Cecilia added, “they have ‘wit enough to pretend that they are better than the rest of the citizenry.’ I recall that part exactly.”
“Keep all of it in mind and treat him just as you would those would-be gallants at the Assemblies in Birmingham.”
“Oh, I could never do that.”
“For the love of God, Ceci, he is not a royal, and has proved that even he can be thrown from a horse. He is not any more special than Papa or Roger.”
“Hmmm” was all Cecilia said. Beatrice gave up trying to convince her and turned her full attention to her own toilette.
By the time they were abed twelve hours later, Cecilia realized that she need not have worried. At dinner that evening she was seated between Lord Crenshaw and the earl, as far from the marquis as was possible.
The evening’s amusement involved a theater troupe brought from London to perform for them. The play, Sheridan’s The Rivals, was familiar to everyone, but the actress who played Mrs. Malaprop brought such humor to the role that even those most familiar with the story were entertained.
Over tea and brandy the countess invited them to try to converse like Mrs. Malaprop, whose defining characteristic was her hilarious tendency to confuse similar-sounding words. It was amusing, especially when Lord Crenshaw suggested it was an effort for Mr. Brent to fend off the “gallons” who wished to court his daughters. But the best of all was when Lord Belmont insisted he was not under the “affluence” of wine or brandy.
Cecilia thought she could do something with “pity” and “pretty” but decided not to call attention to herself.
Neither the marquis nor Lord Jess joined in this game. They were deep in conversation with Mrs. Kendrick and missed all but the last bit when the laughter over Lord Belmont’s phrase drew their attention.
“What did we miss?” Destry called out as he joined them.
“It will be our secret for ‘old’ time,” Beatrice told him, and they all laughed again with Destry none the wiser.
As she fell asleep that night Cecilia decided that it would be easy enough to avoid Lord Destry the next day by the simple expedient of not riding.
FORGOING HER MORNING ride was an excellent strategy for avoiding the marquis, but what Cecilia had failed to take into account was how bored she would be without the exercise. She was also constrained by the need to avoid places where he might be found. That meant she spent an inordinate amount of time with her sister doing things Bitsy loved but Cecilia found monumentally dull.
“This is ridiculous, Ceci,” Beatrice insisted as they explored the library after spending an hour in the chapel examining the stained-glass windows. “You are so good at seeing to the heart of the matter. Would it not be easier to apologize than to be looking over your shoulder every minute?”
“You think I should apologize?”
“No! What you have to do is stop avoiding him or soon he will notice and that will make it even more uncomfortable.”
Why must Beatrice be right so often?
BEATRICE FELT NOBLE for insisting that Ceci stop being foolish. She’d rather liked having her sister for company all day. They had explored the library and found a folio of drawings of flowers and shrubs of Kent which both of them had enjoyed examining. Cecilia even forgot about hiding from the marquis for long enough to ask a footman to carry the folio onto the patio so they could examine it in better light.
In the end Cecilia was no more relaxed than she had been the day before and Beatrice knew she had to convince her twin to speak to the marquis.
They were both distracted from their concerns when Darwell was late and they needed to help each other dress for dinner.
The maid finally came into the room looking less composed than usual and Beatrice looked at her sister. Has she been crying?
Ceci gave her a nod of agreement. Do not ask. Pretend everything is normal.
Darwell tried to act as if nothing was amiss, but her distraction was obvious. They were ready to put on their dresses when she came to her senses