it later,” he said firmly. “But you are not to dance with Lord Jessup,” her father added, ignoring his own words to “discuss it later.” “He has proven over and over that he is not the gentleman he was born to be.”
Beatrice pressed her lips together. If she responded to that accusation the discussion would begin here and now and would become an argument. She searched for something else to say.
“Did Roger come with you?”
“No, he stayed in London to discuss a design with one of his mentors,” her father said, and then went back to the subject she wished they would drop. “I trust by now you have heard of his involvement in Lord Crenshaw’s divorce, as well as his legion of mistresses and the fortunes he has won and lost. His own family does not receive him.”
His sister does, Beatrice wanted to say, just one breath away from arguing with him. Please, someone interrupt us.
As if in answer to her prayer, the orchestra played a chord calling everyone’s attention to the countess, who stood on the musicians’ platform.
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Havenhall and our first ever dinner and ball.” She went on to explain the dinner service, each course to be followed by a period of dancing, and invited her guests to sit down to enjoy the first course and wines.
Beatrice and Cecilia were seated at one of the tables for eight with their father and the countess. The other seats remained empty long enough for her father to berate Beatrice yet again for accepting Lord Jessup’s invitation to dance.
“Abel, dancing with Lord Jess is perfectly acceptable,” the countess said.
“But you don’t want them together any more than I do.”
“Yes, but Jess has been the model of propriety this past ten days and we will be nearby.”
Neither one of them gave Beatrice any credit for behaving well. Did they think that she would melt into his arms without a thought? Actually, she admitted to herself, that’s exactly what had happened; being in his arms made thinking difficult and clear thinking nigh impossible.
Her father considered the countess’s words. Before he could comment further, Michael Garrett and his wife took two seats at the table, along with Marquis Destry and an older gentleman whom the countess introduced as Mr. Hogarth, the art curator and librarian of Havenhall. In answer to Beatrice’s excited question, the man acknowledged that, yes, he was related to the artist of the same name, but only distantly.
The conversation was general at first, leading Lady Olivia to comment, “I think tables for eight, be they round or square, are the best possible number for a dinner party. It allows for interesting group conversation and one-on-one as well, with no one left feeling neglected.”
They continued on in a general manner but soon the conversation became more directed, and Beatrice was so engrossed in her discussion of art with Mr. Hogarth that she could not have said what she ate, although she was quite sure she would have noticed if it had been either salmon or haricots verts.
She did notice that her father and Lord Destry were deep in conversation, but both Cecilia and the countess were listening to them, so it could not have been a discussion of anything too personal, like whether Lord Destry could pay his addresses to her sister.
As Beatrice and Mr. Hogarth finished speaking about the Canaletto mural at the end of the banquet hall, the orchestra struck a chord and the dance master invited, “Ladies and gentlemen, please take the floor for a set of reels.”
To her surprise, and a little dismay, her father did not ask the countess to dance, but came directly to her. With a mental groan she accepted his hand. Cecilia and Lord Destry were a couple, as were Michael Garrett and the countess. Lady Olivia explained that she did not enjoy dancing and would be delighted to talk with Mr. Hogarth about any books on cookery with which he might be familiar. Apparently it was a subject he knew well, as they immediately fell into a discussion of the writings of the celebrated chef Antoine Carême.
I want to be with them, Beatrice wailed to herself as she took the floor with her father and steeled herself for a lecture between steps. As luck would have it, each time he began to speak they would change partners. Eventually he realized that he had to pay attention to the dance, and even once asked her to remind him