Page 11 of A Marriage is Arranged

They processed into the dining room, the Earl taking his grandmother on his arm, and the butler leading Louise. The leaves had been removed from the table so that they sat fairly close, the Countess at the head, with Louise and Gareth facing each other.

Her ladyship first discoursed lightly on the latest on-dits about town. She did not go into society a great deal these days, her rheumatism paining her if she overdid it, but through a network of friends and acquaintances, kept well abreast of Happenings. The Earl contributed little. As someone who rarely interested himself in gossip, he was not the best informant. He could confirm that Lady Southcott had given birth to twins after five years of a childless marriage. Her husband had been seen, proud as punch, in the clubs.

“Well, the on-dit is that he isn’t the father,” said her ladyship, “but he will be too glad to at last have an heir to question it. Twins! My lady outdid herself! An heir and one for luck!” Then she smiled and said, “But, my dear Louise, this is hardly of interest to you. To have to listen to talk about people one doesn’t know is such a bore! Who or what interests you?”

“Well,” answered Louise after a pause, “I don’t know her, of course, but I wonder if you’ve heard anything more about the poor former Empress Josephine? I read earlier in the week that her pneumonia was no better. Worse, in fact. Do you know how she goes on? I feel so sorry for her. I know Bonaparte was not our friend, and we’re all glad to see him shipped off to Elba, but even though they are no longer married, I believe she still cares for him. It’s sad for her to be ill and alone, don’t you think?” She looked at them both somewhat apologetically.

The Earl looked at her, his eyebrows drawn together. He seemed rather displeased. “From where do you know about the Empress?”

Louise refused to be daunted. “From the newspaper,” she said. “We still get it every day, you see. My mother wanted to cancel it after Papa died, but I begged her to keep it on. I do like knowing what is happening in the world.”

“She died today,” said the Earl, shortly “She was not alone, however, her son Eugène was with her.”

There was a silence while Louise contemplated the sad end of the former Empress of France. The Earl digested the information that his betrothed read the newspaper, and his grandmother smiled inwardly, remembering how not so long ago he had complained about how ill-informed girls were.

“She was only fifty, I believe,” said Louise, sadly. Then she sat up and carried on firmly, “And her name will forever be associated with his. It does seem unfair that when husbands are despised for one reason or another, their wives are tarred with the same brush, even if, like the Empress and her husband, they are no longer together.”

“But could she not distance herself from him?”

“It seems not. Apparently she loved him, even after their divorce. Anyway, I doubt people would have listened to what she had to say. Women’s pronouncements are often put down to ignorance or jealousy. We are rarely credited with any sense.”

“Surely that cannot be true!” cried the Countess.

“Oh dear,” said Louise, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to run on so. My mama was chastising me only recently for expressing advanced views. She was not at all pleased when she found we girls at school had procured a copy of Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Women .” She was unable to stop herself from continuing, “But even Miss Wollstonecraft doesn’t seem to think equality with men is attainable. The best we can hope for is a sort of unequal partnership where the husband at least listens to the views of his wife. But I’m convinced the man’s view will almost always prevail.”

“Surely you admit a husband’s right to be master in his own home?” The Earl looked at her, a frown on his harsh countenance.

Louise saw his look and realized she had gone too far. But she wasn’t ready to concede the point.

“I realize there is much to be said on either side and now isn’t the moment for such a discussion,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how we got onto this topic. It’s just that Josephine’s situation seemed so sad.”

“Your sympathy for another individual surely needs no forgiveness,” said the Countess. “And you have every right to express an opinion. The poor woman’s situation is not something I have ever considered. I found our discussion most interesting, and I’m sure Gareth did too.”

She looked at her grandson and, not for the first time, wished he didn’t frown so dreadfully. He looked as if he were really angry, when in fact he was probably just thinking it over. If only he were a little more conciliating. After all, he had been complaining about young women having no opinions to express. Here was one with something to say. His breakfast table might occasionally be a little uncomfortable, but at least it wouldn’t be dull.

He inclined his head, but said nothing. No more was said on the topic, but when dinner ended his lordship said he would not stay for port. He had another engagement and hoped they would forgive his too prompt departure.

When they were once more alone, Louise felt she should apologize again for speaking as she had.

“I’ m sorry to have cast a pall over the evening,” she said. “I think I chased his lordship,” she simply couldn’t say Gareth , “away.”

“Nonsense,” said the Countess briskly. “It does him good. He is altogether too accustomed to having his own way. You know, my dear, you shouldn’t take too much notice of his frowns. He has an unfortunate trick of drawing his eyebrows together over the slightest thing, especially if it’s new to him. He often means nothing by it.

“Now, my dear,” she continued, “tomorrow morning we are to see the modiste. In the afternoon we shall look in at St. George’s Church to confirm the musical selections for your wedding. We also need to show you your future home, of course. But these are all duties, as pleasurable as I hope they will be. Is there anything you would like to do while you are here?”

“I should very much like to go to the British Museum in Montagu House. I understand there is a large collection of antiquities from Egypt. Do you think his lordship could get a ticket for me? I understand one must make an appointment.”

The Countess had been thinking more of the hat shops in Cavendish Square, but said immediately, “What a pity we didn’t ask him while he was still here. No matter, I’ll send him a note. I’m sure he can arrange it.”