Page 59 of Lady Dramatic
Her aunt had led her to Lady Pembroke and she’d curtsied deep as Lady Marchfield made the introduction.
“Charming,” Lady Pembroke said upon her rising.
Serenity could not think the lady really thought so, though. She was, after all, costumed as a bee.
“Lady Pembroke,” Lady Marchfield said, “The plight of a motherless girl. I assure you that if I’d been on hand for the costuming we…well, we would have done differently.”
“Gracious, I do hope not, Lady Marchfield. Lady Serenity is dressed as everything emblematic of our bucolic great estates. Without our bees there is not the sweetness of honey that graciously arrives at our tables each day.”
“I believe they are very sensitive creatures, Lady Pembroke,” Serenity said. She probably ought not to be so bold, but Lady Pembroke did seem so sympathetic to the bees.
“I presume you subscribe to slatted skeps, Lady Serenity,” Lady Pembroke said.
Serenity nodded. “Yes, certainly. We would not kill our bees with sulfur every September on any account. I should just die to think of it.”
Serenity willed the water that drifted to her eyes to go back where it came from. The very idea of killing bees en masse had almost overtaken her. She could see that her aunt was not exactly approving of her niece being so decided in her opinions. However, she did feel rather strongly about that point. She’d all but shamed the villagers attached to her father’s estate to adopt the slatted skeps so the bees might live.
“Excellent. Well, Lady Marchfield, you may take pride in such a connection,” Lady Pembroke said looking kindly at Serenity. “And I might also mention, it is pleasant to encounter such a costume. After all, need we see one more Queen Boudica running round the place?”
“Oh, as to that…” Lady Marchfield said. Serenity thought she hardly knew what to do with Lady Pembroke’s approval, so unexpected had it been.
“Countess, Lady Marchfield, Lady Serenity,” Lord Charles said, pushing into their party.
“Lord Charles,” Lady Pembroke said. “I suppose you have a particular reason for interrupting our conversation?”
Serenity thought this was how a lady with real power spoke. Lady Pembroke sounded as she imagined Queen Charlotte would speak—she did not mince words. It was very like her father, though the tone was so different.
“I did, and I beg pardon,” Lord Charles said smoothly.
Serenity did not know what he wanted, but as her father had told her to avoid him, she wished he would go away.
“I wondered if Lady Serenity would consent to a turn round the room?”
Now he’d put her on the spot, exactly as she’d feared he would. She’d just not thought it would be so soon after her father’s directive. There was nothing for it, though. “I am sorry, Lord Charles, I must regretfully decline.”
That certainly did take Lord Charles by surprise. “No matter,” he said, in a more jovial tone than his expression would suggest. “Well then, perhaps at the next ball where we meet, I might escort you through a dance.”
He was so persistent! She would not answer that. Her sister Patience had always advised simply going forward and jumping a fence when one got there. Whenever it was that she encountered Lord Charles at a ball, that would be time enough to decline him then.
“Lady Serenity?” he asked.
Serenity suppressed a sigh. He was so pushy he would force her to answer. “I have been directed to decline,” she said, “I am sorry.”
“Oh. I see,” Lord Charles said. “Well, excuse me for interrupting.”
With that, he sharply bowed, turned on his heel, and strode off. Her aunt looked as if she would disappear through the floor. Had Lady Pembroke not been within hearing, Serenity was certain she would just now be enduring the scolding of the century.
“Goodness, I do not know what that was all about,” Lady Pembroke said.
“My father directed me to avoid Lord Charles, though I am not privy to his reasons,” Serenity said.
Lady Marchfield sighed, and Serenity was certain that she thought the duke wrong, regardless of whatever reason he had. She always did think the duke wrong.
“If your father has directed it, quite right that you do it, to my mind,” Lady Pembroke said. “It is pleasant to regard a young lady with respect for a parent’s natural authority—I do not care for this new idea of certain young ladies putting themselves forward as independent of everyone and flaunting the rules in an effort to raise brows. In any case, Lord Charles has always struck me as a bit too smarmy, so I suppose nothing is lost there.”
Lady Pembroke had taken herself off to speak to her friends, the other great ladies of London. Lady Marchfield said, “I will question your father about this idea of snubbing Lord Charles. It is not exactly sensible as it appears that his own brother has been paying you attention.”
Serenity did not bother to respond, as that brother fast approached.
