Page 40 of Lady Graceless
She’d met with more than a few gentlemen. None of them were Lord Dashlend, of course, but genial all the same.
She’d conducted herself well, and it was very gratifying.
And yet, she could not forget what Lord Montclave had said about Lord Dashlend. He claimed the lord judged very severely on physicality. He was a Corinthian of the first stare and compared everything to that. The way she moved in the world was her primary fault! How could she hide it?
Grace could, perhaps, hide it for now. She’d not given anything away yet. But that could not hold forever. So many times in the past, when she’d least expected it, that swimming feeling would come over her. She’d be getting out of the carriage for church and suddenly find herself on the ground. Or even just walking into a room with nothing at all amiss. She’d got rather skilled at dropping without injuring herself.
In any case, her father had already told Lord Dashlend that she was clumsy. Perhaps seeing it was not even necessary.
He was coming to dine this evening. Would he be examining her for signs of clumsiness? Did he like her enough to overlook it?
There was a short rap on the door and Mrs. Right hurried in. “Have you decided on a dress?” she asked.
Grace of course had. There was nothing she’d given as much thought to. She’d been thinking about it ever since Lord Dashlend had accepted her papa’s invitation.
She nodded toward the bed where it was laid out.
“Ah, the violet silk with the tulle overlay. Excellent choice, it will do something well for your coloring. Now, tell me what’s on your mind,” Mrs. Right said. “You’ve got that worried look on your face that used to tell me, when you were a little girl, that you’d broken something.”
Mrs. Right could always see straight into all of their hearts. And really, it was a relief to be asked.
“Last evening, Lord Montclave, who is Lord Dashlend’s cousin and lives on a neighboring estate, so he knows Lord Dashlend ever so well, he said…”
Grace drifted off. She did not even like to speak aloud what he’d said.
“What did he say?”
“He said that Lord Dashlend, being the Corinthian that he is, holds physicality as superior to all else. Lord Montclave has argued against that opinion to no avail.”
“Has he now?” Mrs. Right said, narrowing her eyes.
“Yes, indeed, that is what he said. And Mrs. Right, you know my particular situation. My particular… flaw. It is precisely what Lord Dashlend will not like.” Grace paused to wring her hands, which she’d done quite a lot of all day. “I ought not to like him as he will be so inclined to not like me, and yet I do. I really cannot help it. I met no end of gentlemen last evening and all I could think was, they were not Lord Dashlend.”
“Lord Montclave made a point to inform you of this?” Mrs. Right said thoughtfully.
“He did, though I cannot think how the subject came up.”
“Here’s my advice—do not pay any mind to Lord Montclave. Form your opinions through your own eyes and ears. It’s my experience that a gentleman wishing to impress often takes the low road of trying to make other fellows less appealing than they are.”
“You think Lord Montclave might have invented what he told me?”
“Might have. We’ll see.”
“But that would be so underhanded, so base, so ungentlemanly.”
Mrs. Right shrugged. “All’s fair in love and war, as they say. Before I wed, I had another suitor besides my Charlie. Mr. Winchum was his name and he told me, quite confidentially of course, that my Charlie only had three toes on his right foot. Well, I wasn’t put off, mind, as who goes round staring at a person’s toes anyway? When the time came, I did have a peek and wouldn’t you know—all five were present and accounted for.”
“Mr. Winchum must have been terribly embarrassed that you eventually found out his fib.”
“Oh yes, whenever I saw him, I waved at him by wiggling all five of my fingers. He got my meaning. Now, we’d best get you dressed and downstairs, as Felicity and Mr. Stratton are to come early.”
Mr. Stratton was to look over her calendar to ensure she had not made any mistakes like she’d done with Lord Doanellen’s dinner.
Grace hurried into her dress and Mrs. Right did the buttons up the back. She fussed with the tulle until it was laying right and it really did look charming.
Grace was out the door and down the stairs in good time. She found Valor pacing the drawing room with a rather wild look on her face. She had a letter in one hand, and Mrs. Wendover swinging from the other. Nelson seemed to take the whole thing as a game and made little leaps at Mrs. Wendover, between losing his balance and rolling on the carpet.
“Grace, I am stunned,” Valor said. “Lady Margaret and I are friends and we correspond, as you may know. I maintain a correspondence now like any grown lady does. She told me to write about anything I liked and so I did and she has just wrote me back. I am shocked to my shoes.”
