Page 10 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

I t was mere days until their departure for Brighton, and the house was a flurry of activity. Freddy would be home from boarding school any minute, and Anne had her lady’s maid, Dutton, packing Anne’s belongings for the trip while other servants prepared Mary’s and Freddy’s belongings as well.

While Dutton wrapped a white, cotton summer dress in tissue paper, her gray hair fighting to escape its tight knot, Anne looked over the dresses still draped across her bed and the furniture around her bedroom.

It looked like a seamstress’s studio had exploded and left dresses and underthings all over.

Many of the garments were brand new for the season, and Anne was always excited for new frocks.

But there was one dress in particular she could not wait to wear.

It was a silk and satin peach dress with two bodices.

The day bodice had a lace panel with collar for daytime modesty.

The evening bodice was the same shape but without the lace panel.

And the skirt was a frothy confection of shimmering silk and tulle.

Anne picked up the evening bodice and held it up to herself in front of the mirror.

“Oh, Dutton, I simply cannot wait to wear this one,” she said with a sigh.

It had taken a long time for her self-confidence to come back after her husband had passed.

She felt far more secure now than she had before, but her self-assurance still could admittedly be lacking.

Sometimes, like that blue hat all those years ago, something in particular made her feel magical when she wore it.

Like no one else could outshine her. This dress made her feel that way.

Anne returned to her bedside and gently laid the bodice back where Dutton had originally put it. She ran light fingers over the cool silk of the peach skirt.

The door to her bedroom flew open and Mary came skipping in. Mary went directly for her mother, still standing near the peach dress. “Oh, Mama, I love that one.” Mary lifted the skirt from the bed and held it up to Anne. “Doesn’t Mama look pretty, Dutton?”

Dutton smiled over her shoulder at the girl. “Very pretty, indeed, Lady Mary.”

Mary smiled at the skirt held against Anne for a moment longer and then put it back upon the bed. “I bet all of the men will be vying for your attention when you wear that.”

Anne’s eyebrows lifted high. “ Mary !”

Mary laughed. “Silly Mama. Oh, how I wish this year were my debut!” The young woman spun in a circle. “I love the romance of balls. The anticipation of who will ask for a dance.”

Anne frowned. “There won’t be as many balls as you think. It’s Brighton, not London.”

“Have you decided if you will dance this year?”

“Of course not.” Anne couldn’t even remember the last time she had.

It had been before her husband had passed.

She would, of course, attend any and all events to which she received an invitation, but as a widow, she generally stayed off to the side with the other wallflowers.

“I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, anyway. ”

“What wrong idea?”

Anne studied her daughter for a moment. She didn’t like broaching this subject with her children, but Mary was nearly an adult now. “I don’t wish to ever remarry, and dancing with a gentleman might give him the idea that I might.”

Mary opened her mouth but hesitated, as if unsure about her response. Her mouth clamped closed for a moment and then she finally said, “Dancing doesn’t mean anything, Mama. It’s not like you’re making your debut and are on the marriage mart. I think men can understand that well enough.”

But Anne knew the true ways of men. A man would take a simple, unplanned glance from a pretty woman as an invitation to a tryst, even though that glance almost never meant the woman wanted such a thing.

A widow, especially, must be wary, as her virtue was no longer something the ton viewed ought to be protected and such status caused men to release their meager restraints.

And should a man ask for more, he would easily pretend to be a kind gentleman, only to turn into a monster after the wedding.

Anne had seen countless men manipulate themselves into women’s lives, only to turn into their true, ghastly selves once the woman couldn’t go anywhere.

If Anne accepted a man’s invitation to dance after abstaining from it for so many years, they would most definitely take it as a show of interest for something more.

And when it came to widows, something more more often than not meant covert affairs.

It wasn’t even the widowers or bachelors she’d need to worry about. The married men would see her as an opportunity as well.

Mary, of course, wouldn’t know any of this.

Mary mistook Anne’s silence on the subject as an invitation to continue. “There’s nothing wrong with befriending a handsome gentleman, Mama. You’re friends with Uncle Victor, are you not?”

Anne suddenly felt very aware of herself. “Yes. What about it?”

“If you danced with Uncle Victor, it would hardly mean anything.” Mary looked at Anne with large, dark, innocent eyes. “Right?”

Anne couldn’t help but envision dancing with Victor. His large hand resting on her back, his other hand holding her own. She could almost feel his arm around her, his body’s closeness, the heat that would radiate off of him, his deep voice as he spoke something private into her ear.

She had to resist a shiver.

Unfortunately, part of Anne’s mind still occasionally succumbed to the idea of romance, and because Victor was the only unmarried man she saw frequently, her mind often put him as the subject of those fantasies.

But those visions did not reflect any affection she held for him.

Not only was there no romance or attraction between the two of them, Victor didn’t know how to dance.

Also, his life was the pub. The man had never married because he was already married to his pub.

Anne smiled at her daughter. “Victor doesn’t know how to dance, Mary. And if he did, dancing with him would hardly mean anything. You know that.”

Mary considered this and walked along the bed a few paces, ending at one of the corner bedposts. She began tracing the carved design with a finger. “I feel so badly for you, though, Mama.”

Anne blinked. “Why?”

“Don’t you get lonely? Don’t you ever want that excitement again, the one you felt when you made your debut? The anticipation of a handsome gentleman putting his full attention on you and only you?”

Anne really didn’t want to cloud her daughter’s vision of the world.

“It isn’t the same once you’re my age. And anyway, I’ve had enough sadness in my life.

I don’t wish to experience falling in love with someone, only to go through more heartbreak after that.

” Out of the corner of her eye, Anne could see Dutton studying her.

However, she was too cowardly to look at the woman.

Mary stopped her tracing and slid her attention to Anne. There was a glitter of mischief in her eye. “You don’t have to get married, Mama. You could just do it for sport, you know? Dancing and flirting, I mean.”

Anne felt a strange squeeze of caution. “I don’t think you should be thinking of that kind of thing.”

Mary sighed and shook her head. “Is there something wrong with dancing and flirting?”

No, but she certainly didn’t like hearing her daughter talk about it! Anne cleared her throat. “I suppose not.”

Mary clapped her hands and made an excited squeal.

“Good! Now, do you have any stationery?” But Mary didn’t wait for an answer.

She went over to Anne’s vanity and began rifling through it, quickly finding what she was looking for.

She held up paper and a fountain pen in triumph. “Aha! Now, Mama, come here.”

Mary took a seat in the plush chair, looking far too old to Anne. But Anne set aside the motherly caution she felt about nearly everything and went to her daughter’s side. Admittedly, she was rather curious about what was on her daughter’s mind.

Anne watched as Mary wrote, in perfect script at the top of the page: A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance .

Mary ended it with a flourish, then looked up at Anne, who was now beside her. “What rules would you put in place for yourself if you were to enjoy the company of a handsome gentleman just for the summer? Since you don’t want anything permanent?”

Anne’s mouth dropped open at her daughter’s candidness. “This is highly inappropriate!”

Mary’s eyebrows pulled together and her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, but she wasn’t backing down.

Anne sighed. She could humor her daughter, at least. It wasn’t like she was suggesting Anne casually go to bed with people.

Mary’s suggestion was quite innocent, really, having fun at the expense of her mother.

Perhaps Anne could attempt to embrace that girlish part of herself this summer.

It wasn’t such a terrible idea, and like Mary said, it wasn’t as if she were making a commitment.

“Fine.” Anne gave in with a sigh. “Never chase a gentleman.”

Mary nodded and wrote that rule down. “What else?”

Anne looked over at Dutton, who was watching them with interest but immediately returned to packing upon being caught.

Anne’s attention returned to her daughter. “This is all rather silly.”

“Oh, Mama, have a little fun with it.” Mary smiled up to her, and there was another twinkle in her eye.

Anne let out another long sigh but was too embarrassed to say anything else.

Mary took it upon herself to begin writing. She read aloud as she wrote, “Never flirt first.”

Anne inhaled through her nose.

As if knowing the shock her mother felt, Mary looked back up once again. “I’m hardly ten years old anymore. I do know what everything entails. I’m not suggesting that !”

Anne did make a point to not keep her children in the dark about what intimacy between married people entailed.

She had explained flirting, courting, and what happened on the wedding night.

Boys generally learned about all of this, but girls absolutely did not.

However, Anne did not want Mary to experience the traumatizing shock that Anne, and most women, experienced.

It was a difficult few conversations, but Mary knew the facts of it all.

Mary, to Anne’s chagrin, wasn’t embarrassed by those conversations. She’d also asked far too many questions for Anne’s liking, some of which had made Anne blush.

But she was glad the young woman was not ignorant, at least.

Dutton’s voice called out, “No funny business with the men. Don’t give them that satisfaction.” She then hmphed .

Mary giggled as Anne tore a look to her lady’s maid. The woman just shrugged and went about her business.

“Do not put that one down, Mary,” Anne warned.

“Oh, fine.”

For a few more minutes, Anne and Mary added more rules. Rules that would protect Anne. And not long after the list was complete, Harris announced Freddy’s arrival.

Mary jumped out of the chair, clearly thrilled her brother had returned.

“Mary, dear.” Anne tried to calm the excitable girl. “Go greet your brother. I’ll meet you down there in one minute.”

“All right, Mama,” Mary said as she rushed out of the room.

Anne lifted up the paper and read it to herself:

A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance

Never chase a gentleman.

Never flirt first.

First and second conversations should be less than ten minutes.

Kissing is acceptable, but do not make the first move.

Anne frowned at that rule snuck in by Mary but kept reading.

No gentlemen with bad hygiene.

No gentlemen who only talk politics.

No gentlemen more than ten years older or younger.

No gentlemen who don’t laugh.

No gamblers.

Anne could hear the excited chatter of her children carrying throughout the house.

She was eager to join them but wanted to finish this rules business first. Something was missing.

Anne lifted the pen and hovered it over the paper for a long moment until she realized the most important rule of all had been missed. She wrote it down:

Never fall in love.

With a nod of satisfaction, Anne folded the paper in half, then threw it randomly into one of the traveling trunks to promptly forget about as she rushed past Dutton and out of the room. Her darling boy was home.