Page 66 of The Undaunted
Lady Easton herself had her calendar quite full now that word had got round about her very casually having served a sliced pineapple.
That left the duchess. Caroline was not at all convinced that these various ladies understood how or why they’d been ruled out, but the duchess had ruled herself in.
As shewasa duchess, poor Bemmy found she must walk three steps behind and carry any packages that had been purchased.
The traipsing this way and that way had been exhausting, but it had not been a wasted effort. Every lady on the street wished to be acknowledged by the duchess. Those same ladies also wished to know Caroline, since the duchess chose to know her.
The duchess was rather marvelous about the whole procedure. Lady So-And-So would make an approach, the duchess would introduce Caroline, and then she would say something along the lines of:Lady So-And-So, I cannot tell you how much I enjoy Miss Upton’s company—she is so intelligent and full of good sense.
Whatever talk and gossip had gone round about her, Caroline was certain her reputation had been fully restored. It was up to her to keep it that way.
Now, it was the evening of the Regent’s ball, and though Lady Easton was not very enthusiastic about going, since theywouldgo she was determined that Caroline take the revelers’ breaths away.
Mrs. Belle had sent a spectacular ballgown, unique and yet so suited to the seaside. The fabric was an indigo silk, the bodice very simple and unadorned. The skirt was embroidered with indigo sequins and then overlayed with netting of the same color in which larger dark blue stones had been sewn. The whole effect was that of a night sky—as the candlelight caught the stones and sequins, it gave the effect of stars both near and far, winking and blinking.
All was well and Caroline was indeed excited to attend the Regent’s ball, but she could not be entirely sanguine.
She really did wish that Lord Bertridge would go.
How different he seemed to her now. He’d boldly charged into the sea to rescue her and then he’d apologized for his scolding in the drawing room. And mostly, what the duchess had said about him was true. He might not be as amusing as Lord Alvanley. Or amusing at all, really. But he was a gentleman in the finest sense of the word. A man who took his responsibilities seriously and was careful of the people dependent upon him. A man who would risk his own person for another. A man who would admit when he’d been wrong.
As she knew from her father, that was a quality to be valued. He’d often said,A man who can admit error is a man confident in his own abilities. A man who defends a mistake is a man who secretly knows he’s an impostor.
She was beginning to think that the likes of Lord Alvanley were not as interesting as she had at first considered them. After all, what did they care for really? It seemed they only cared for displaying their wit and making jokes. Would Lord Alvanley or Mr. Landon have leapt into the sea to save her? She had her doubts about that. If they had observed her being saved, would they invent jokes about it? Possibly.
For all her wishing though, Lord Bertridge would not go to the ball. At tea, he had confirmed it to his aunt. He would stay at home with a book and would be delighted to miss the regent’s ball.
Prior to the duchess dragging her into the sea and Lord Bertridge ordering her out of it, she had been determined to like Mr. Landon. It was very much harder now!
She told herself she must be sensible and accept any reasonable offer that came her way, but she did not want to do it.
She glanced at the clock as Bemmy fussed with her hair.
“There now,” Bemmy said, “you’re all set to slay the gentlemen and put a few more fellows in your pocket.”
“There are still no gentlemen in my pocket,” Caroline said laughing.
“Oh I expect there are at least two,” Bemmy said. “Though, I did some inquirin’ about Mr. Landon with some of my acquaintance in the know. Steer well clear of him, I think.”
“Goodness, what has Mr. Landon done to fall out of your good graces?”
“He’s got unpaid bills round the town and then there’s something else, though I don’t rightly know what. Mr. Berry, an old gent I’ve known since I was a babe, told me he’s a rotter through and through. Then he was all mysterious when I pressed him on why.”
“Well, I suppose every young gentleman in town has unpaid bills,” Caroline said. “My father told me they always gamble too much, get in debt, and then have to write their fathers to get them out of it.”
Bemmy snorted. “I’d like to see one of my brothers write a letter like that to my da. He’d get a wallop on the head for his trouble.”
“I wouldn’t wonder if my own father might react similar. He may bet on his own horses, but he would never bet on another’s as nobody knows the real potential of a horse but the one who owns it. As for cards, he finds losing money at a gambling table positively idiotic.”
“I expect there’s another in this house who’d think the same. That other that I’ve revised my opinion about. You ought to keep that one in your pocket.”
“Bemmy,” Caroline said, “you must stop imagining that which is not there.” As she said it, she thought she would do very well to take her own advice.
“I’m not the imaginin’ type, if you get my meaning. Now, you best get yourself off with two minutes to spare. You don’t want Lady Easton in a tizzy afore you’re even out the door.”
Chapter Seventeen
Caroline descended thestairs and, for a moment, wondered if Lord Bertridge had changed his mind and would come after all. She could not ignore that the idea sent a burst of butterflies through her, but the feeling quickly dissipated as she noted his attire. He wore the dark silk banyan he was in the habit of wearing at home. He had only come into the hall to see them off.
