Page 1 of A Lesson in Propriety (Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies #1)
One
N EW Y ORK C ITY J ANUARY 1885
“I’m sure you’ll agree, my dear, if you take a moment to ponder the matter, that it might be for the best if we put all plans for our upcoming wedding on hold ... perhaps indefinitely.”
Miss Drusilla Merriweather sucked in a sharp breath, which immediately resulted in her choking on the sip of tea she’d just taken. Wheezing promptly commenced and continued for what seemed like forever, until she was finally able to settle eyes that were now watering on Mr. Elbert Herrington, her fiancé—or perhaps not, given the words that had just come out of his mouth—who was sitting across the table from her in the middle of Rutherford and Company’s tearoom, watching her somewhat warily.
“Forgive me, Elbert,” she managed to say in a breathy voice that now held a bit of a rasp. “It’s quite unlike me to sputter about, but I fear all the sputtering was a direct result of me obviously mishearing you. It almost sounded as if you were suggesting we end our engagement.”
Elbert leaned over a table draped in fine linen. “I’m afraid you didn’t mishear me, Drusilla.”
She stilled. “You’re breaking our engagement?”
“I think it would be better if you’d do the breaking.”
“Better for whom?”
Elbert settled back in his chair. “Surely you must realize that having you decide we won’t suit, and then letting society know it was your choice to end matters, will allow you to maintain your dignity. It will also allow you to avoid having everyone assume there’s something wrong with you, which you know is the conclusion everyone within the upper crust always arrives at if a gentleman ends an engagement.”
Drusilla’s mind went curiously numb, as if she simply couldn’t comprehend the nuances of a conversation she’d certainly not been expecting to hold with a man she’d been engaged to for well over two years.
“What exactly is it that you think is wrong with me?” she finally managed to ask.
“I didn’t say anything was wrong with you,” Elbert countered. “I merely pointed out that if I were to dissolve our engagement, everyone traveling within our social set would assume I’d done so because you’re deficient in some respect.”
Drusilla pressed a finger against a temple that was beginning to throb. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but what deficiencies, in your opinion, would everyone decide I possess?”
“I don’t believe there’s any need to delve into that,” Elbert said, bestowing his most charming of smiles on her, but a smile she was not exactly finding all that charming at the moment.
“Why not?”
“Because disclosing any faults I believe you might possess, and faults society will undoubtedly pounce on if I end our alliance, will most assuredly leave you reaching for your smelling salts to stave off a fit of the vapors.”
“I don’t frequently suffer from fits of the vapors.”
“You’ve fainted at numerous balls over the years.”
“From lack of oxygen due to the tight lacing that’s required to enhance a fashionable silhouette—but one that’s not exactly conducive to gallivanting around a ballroom.”
Elbert waved that aside. “There are many other ladies who present more fashionable silhouettes than you do who never faint dead away after they’re done with a dance.”
She was forced to set aside her cup when she realized she was gripping the delicate handle far too firmly. “Did you ever consider that those ladies are slenderer than I am and, as such, don’t need to be laced as tightly to achieve that oh-so-fashionable profile?”
“An interesting theory, and one that now has me wondering if you should consider abstaining from sweets for the foreseeable future in order to avoid the threat of future fainting episodes.”
Her jaw immediately took to clenching. “Are you suggesting I’m plump?”
Wariness once again flickered through Elbert’s eyes. “I was merely voicing a solution to your fainting problem.”
“I don’t have a fainting problem, although I may soon have a temper problem if we continue discussing my figure, so ... what other faults do you think I possess that society will bring to my attention if I don’t agree to end matters with you?”
“I’m not sure disclosing that information is going to help with that temper problem you just mentioned.”
Drusilla lifted her chin. “I’m sure my other faults will not be nearly as disconcerting as having you point out my less-than-svelte figure, so by all means, disclose away.”
Elbert’s gaze began darting around the tearoom, his smile returning when his attention settled on Miss Deerfield, a lady who’d been deemed a Diamond of the First Water, and who was currently enjoying tea with her aunt. After inclining his head when Miss Deerfield sent him a waggle of her fingers, Elbert turned back to Drusilla, his smile fading straightaway. “I never realized you possessed the ability to turn difficult, my dear, but I’m going to suggest you discontinue with that unpleasant behavior posthaste, as it’s not a trait any gentleman finds attractive in a woman.”
Her teeth began to grind over that bit of ridiculousness. “As surprising as I’m certain you’ll find this, Elbert, I’m not all that keen to adhere to any of your suggestions right now. What I am keen to do, though, is learn more about other deficiencies you believe I possess so I’ll be better prepared to brace myself for any uncharitable comments sent my way after you toss me aside.”
“As I’ve already mentioned, it would be better if you’d do the tossing.”
“And as I just said, I’m not in the mood to entertain any of your suggestions right now. Therefore, please feel free to continue enlightening me about my evidently numerous and varied shortcomings.”
Elbert opened his mouth, but instead of vocalizing a list of additional inadequacies, he was suddenly all smiles again, unquestionably because Miss Katherine Drayton and her sister, Julia, were now wandering past them on their way to a table, both ladies smiling broadly Elbert’s way, although they barely inclined their heads to Drusilla as they passed.
Given that Elbert was considered one of the most handsome gentlemen within society, and that ladies were consistently determined to garner his attention, no matter that he was engaged to her, the warm smiles weren’t exactly out of the ordinary.
“I hope the Drayton sisters didn’t notice us arguing,” Elbert murmured as he pulled his attention from where Katherine and Julia were now being assisted into chairs across the tearoom and settled a scowl she most certainly didn’t deserve on her.
After glancing back to the sisters, who were now whispering furiously behind gloved hands as they continued looking Elbert’s way, Drusilla returned Elbert’s scowl. “I would say they definitely noticed there’s something’s amiss between us, but I have no idea why you’d be concerned about that. I would think people witnessing us engaged in a public argument would benefit your decision to end our engagement, not harm it.”
“The last thing I want is for society to conclude the two of us parted on less-than-amicable terms, as that would hardly benefit my, or rather, ah, your reputation. That’s why I’m now going to encourage you to discontinue glowering at me and smile at me instead.”
“I have no intention of summoning up a smile to make it appear we’re enjoying a lovely afternoon tea instead of engaged in a most disturbing affair. Truth be told, I’m finding it difficult to abstain from shrieking at you like a common fishmonger right now.”
“You’re far too prim and proper to resort to shrieking.”
“You say that as if being prim and proper is yet another fault of mine.”
Elbert gave a shrug of shoulders that were covered in fine wool. “I suppose it is a fault at that, as there have been numerous ladies who’ve broached your exceedingly proper attitude with me, and they weren’t broaching it in a complimentary fashion.”
“Ladies have told you they find me too prim and proper?”
“Indeed.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Exactly what have they said about the matter?”
He returned the narrowing of the eyes. “I’m not appreciating this new demanding attitude of yours, but to answer your demand—know that I once sat between two young ladies at a dinner who regaled me with stories about your escapades when you attended the Sherwood Academy for Young Ladies together.”
“I doubt they had many stories to regale you with as I never participated in any lively escapades while I was in school.”
“That was evident fairly quickly since their stories revolved around all the time you spent in the library, reading your way through every etiquette and decorum book your finishing school offered.”
Drusilla ignored the knot that began forming in her stomach at the mere mention of the hours she’d spent in the library—ones not spent because she’d been enthralled with learning everything she could about proper manners, but spent because her proficiency with her studies had earned her a small bit of praise from a father who’d been disappointed with her from the moment of her birth, as he’d been hoping for a son.
She’d even gone so far as to amass her own personal library dedicated to matters of etiquette, filling the space with tomes devoted to proper table settings, what wines were best paired with dinner selections, and how to achieve a pleasing effect when composing watercolors.
Her father, Morton Merriweather, had made a point of complimenting her dedication, which, given her desire to please a man who was mostly absent from her life, exactly explained her decision to become the most proper lady the Four Hundred had ever seen.
Not that her determination seemed to have paid off. In fact, it almost seemed to have had the opposite effect.
Needing a moment to get thoughts that were now skittering madly about in order, she selected a cucumber sandwich from a plate set in front of her, took a dainty nibble, and returned her attention to Elbert.
Annoyance was swift when she realized he was now watching Miss Thelma Whitting, who was sitting at a nearby table with her mother, although Thelma wasn’t paying any notice to her mother but fluttering outrageously long lashes at Elbert instead.
Drusilla cleared her throat, then cleared it a second time, which finally had the desired effect of Elbert dragging his attention away from Thelma.
“Was there something else you wanted to add about your diligence to your decorum studies?” he asked, but only after he’d glanced back to Thelma, sent the lady a warm smile, then cocked a brow Drusilla’s way.
She forced a hand that had taken to clenching to relax. “I wouldn’t think I’d need to defend my attentiveness to my studies, as ladies are expected to excel with everything pertaining to proper manners.” She took a second to smooth out a wrinkle she’d just spotted on the tablecloth. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we women in the upper echelons of society are raised with the sole expectation of making an advantageous match and providing our husbands with a wife who’s always above reproach.”
“Of course I’m aware of that.”
“Then why, pray tell, does it sound as if you agree with those other ladies and believe I over-excelled with my pursuit of achieving the pinnacle of proper decorum?”
“I didn’t say I was in agreement, although I readily admit I was taken aback to learn from those ladies that most of the student population at Sherwood Academy found you somewhat insufferable.”
“Insufferable?”
“Indeed.”
Her hand took to clenching again. “Why would they think that?”
“I imagine it was a result of the teachers at Sherwood Academy encouraging the student body to strive to emulate your behavior. One lady at that dinner I mentioned even remarked to me that if you hadn’t been born into a Knickerbocker family, you’d have been highly successful as a headmistress of a finishing school because your grasp of the rules rivaled that of Miss Sherwood, and your appearance...” Elbert abruptly stopped speaking, grabbed his teacup, and took a hefty swig.
Drusilla leaned forward. “Were you about to tell me that this lady thought my appearance suited that of a headmistress?”
Instead of immediately denying what any lady would have taken as a grave insult, Elbert winced instead. “She may have mentioned something to that effect.”
Drusilla snatched up the remains of her cucumber sandwich, nibbled her way through half of it, returned it to the plate, then made a prolonged process of blotting her lips with her napkin as she strove to contain emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
She’d truly had no idea that ladies within society spent their time making sport of her, and that they mocked what she considered her only credible achievement—that being possessed of impeccable manners—was hurtful to say the least.
She’d always known she wasn’t a lady who’d ever take the Four Hundred by storm, or be deemed an Incomparable, not when she wasn’t in possession of any great beauty, being merely “elegantly reserved,” as her mother always put it.
Elegantly reserved simply meant she wasn’t completely unattractive, but possessing a face that was less than riveting certainly didn’t leave her standing out in a crowd, although people did compliment her on her blue eyes, which were evidently her greatest physical attribute. However, if possessing a less-than-beautiful face wasn’t bad enough, she’d also been born with ordinary brown hair. And her shape, as Elbert had so kindly mentioned, wasn’t slender, although she really didn’t think she’d go so far as to call herself plump—more along the lines of unfashionably proportioned.
It was rather disheartening to learn that ladies she’d thought of as friends had been suggesting behind her back—and to her fiancé, no less—that not only would she be perfectly suited to running a ladies’ academy, but that she also already looked the part of a headmistress, which in no way could be taken as a compliment.
“Not that I want to cut our luncheon short, Drusilla, but I have a pressing engagement soon,” Elbert said, dragging her from her thoughts. “Shall we agree here and now that we’re not well suited but intend to remain the closest of friends, and that you’ll break the news to society in order to spare yourself any repercussions from the dissolution of our alliance?”
Drusilla’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know if we’ve ever been what I would consider friends, Elbert, and in all honesty, I’m still a little mystified as to exactly why you no longer care to marry me.”
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“You do, unless those deficiencies you just pointed out weren’t brought to my attention because you fear others will pounce on them, but because those attributes of mine annoy you.” She tilted her head. “If that’s the case, it seems I’m being cast aside because I’m too plump, too prim, and too proper.”
Elbert leaned forward, his gaze for once squarely focused on her. “My dear, my decision is not because you’re too plump, prim, or proper—but because you’re now all but penniless, or to put it bluntly ... far too poor.”