Page 15 of A Perplexing Regency Romance (The League of Meddling Butlers #5)

Hugh could not ignore that Miss Fernsby’s flush had faded upon being introduced to his sister.

She was positively pale. He got the feeling that she was intimidated by his sister.

He supposed he could see why. His sister was older and married, she was a titled lady, and she had a certain stern and austere air about her.

She made a sport of intimidating those she thought she could intimidate and Hugh already knew Lucinda’s opinion of Miss Fernsby.

Gentle Miss Fernsby did not seem to have the hard shell that might repel such an affront.

He could not say anything about it in the moment, as that would be awkward and would embarrass Miss Fernsby.

He did not give a toss if he embarrassed Lucinda.

If he could, he would tell Miss Fernsby to never be intimidated by Lucinda.

His sister was a miserable and bitter gossip and was only admired by her equally miserable and bitter circle of friends.

Not even her husband was an admirer. Miss Fernsby was worth a thousand Lucindas, even if his sister was a countess and she was a miss.

His sister’s very presence and the way she looked down her nose in condescension made Hugh feel protective of Miss Fernsby.

He had the urge to knock Lucinda out of the way, as he’d once done when he was ten and she was twenty.

He’d come upon her scolding a footman for some alleged crime and threatening that she would get him dismissed.

The poor fellow was fairly new and just then white as snow.

Hugh was so enraged that he’d meant to knock her out of the way but knocked her so hard she hit the floor.

He hadn’t been sorry. Then he’d informed the footman that his father would not heed any of Lucinda’s complaints against him as he was well sick and tired of hearing her complaints on every subject in the world.

Lucinda had been shocked that he’d thrown her to the ground, attempted a tantrum to no avail, and then stomped up the stairs. Hugh poured the footman a thumb’s worth of brandy and informed Browning of what had occurred. His father never heard anything about it.

As much as he would like to, he could not knock her to the floor now. But he would get rid of her.

“Lucinda,” Hugh said, “Gaddington was looking for you, very insistent about it, he cannot bear to be parted from his sweet-tempered bride. Duchess, Miss Fernsby, might I escort you to the sideboards? We’ll all probably need fortification for what’s to come.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Finella had entered the ballroom, she’d seen the duke immediately. Perhaps that was because she was looking for him, but if she had been looking for him it was only to look at him. In the very usual and casual manner that everybody did. As a usual thing.

She’d spotted him standing with Sir Edward and Lady Violet. Just as he should be. Lady Violet was very tall and elegant. He was very tall and devastatingly handsome. Finella had swallowed a small sigh. Just looking at Lady Violet made her feel shorter and shorter and shorter.

But then the duke had met her eye and walked over to her and the duchess. Finella had not expected that. He’d done his duty at Almack’s. He’d taken a dance to thank her for her aid on The Strand. There was no need for him to do anything further.

As she was contemplating those ideas, she had barged into the conversation. Her . The author of Finella’s current insecurities and worries. Lady Lucinda Gaddington.

At Almack’s, Finella had not been able to see Lady Gaddington when she’d overheard herself being described as a mushroom.

She been holed up in her own compartment in the retiring room.

Now she did see her. She was tall and a bit pinched in the face.

She looked like the sort of person who would say hateful things.

Or perhaps it seemed so to Finella because she’d heard the lady say hateful things.

In that first moment of being faced with Lady Gaddington, it felt as if she went toe to toe with her arch enemy.

It felt as if they must do battle. It felt as if Finella must say something to defend herself.

She must hit back over being named a mushroom.

It briefly drifted across her mind that she might say, “Well if I am a mushroom, you are an asparagus. Not everybody likes asparagus.”

Then she reminded herself that Lady Gaddington had not the first idea that she’d been overheard when she’d gossiped in Almack’s retiring room.

She did not know she’d been overheard by the very person she was saying insulting things about.

Only Finella and Lucy knew it. It was lucky she did remember that, as it would have been entirely absurd to call a lady an asparagus.

She was never very good at composing an insult.

She’d not tried it often and she had not the quick wit to parry with any speed or sense.

Fortunately, the duke had mentioned to Lady Gaddington that her lord was looking for her and then he’d escorted her and the duchess to the sideboard.

At least the encounter with Lady Gaddington did not go on longer.

Finella could see from the lady’s expression that she disliked her.

On account of being a mushroom, she imagined.

The duke had suggested the white wine from Burgundy and Finella had nodded.

She would prefer something sweeter, but she did not have the wherewithal to do more than nod at this moment.

She really was very shaken, but she must do everything to hide it.

She did not wish to appear foolish, and she especially did not wish that the duchess might suspect anything was wrong.

How disturbing it was that Lady Gaddington had approached and asked to be introduced to her when Finella knew what she actually thought. Had she done it just so she could privately laugh at Finella and tell her friend about it?

It occurred to her that if she’d never overheard Lady Gaddington in the Almack’s retiring room, she might be positively thrilled that the lady wished to make her acquaintance. What a blissfully ignorant situation that would have been. As it was, she was all too familiar with the truth.

It brought to mind the old proverb of hearkeners never hearing good of themselves.

She supposed it was a proverb because it was true.

But why did people go out of their way to dislike and disdain other people?

What was the point of it? Mrs. Francis, one of their neighbors at home, had something terrible to say about everybody.

Finella could never see why she went on with it.

It could not make her happy. Why didn’t Mrs. Francis just wish to be happy?

Now it occurred to her that Mrs. Francis had probably said plenty of insults about Finella.

She’d just not overheard them. It gave her a chill, wondering if she’d just been blindly staggering through life without knowing what people thought about her.

The duke had asked her how she’d spent her days since the ball at Almack’s but fortunately she was not forced to answer.

Very fortunately, as she was sure she would have spouted some utter nonsense, so discombobulated were her thoughts at this moment.

She’d probably have said something about the duke’s sister being an asparagus, to the confusion of everyone within earshot.

As it was, she was saved from embarrassing herself.

Lady Burberry had just called out that everyone was to find their boxes.

The duchess led Finella to their box and, as it was the duchesses’ box, they were near the front.

Whatever they were to view would be done up close.

Finella had not the first idea how Lady Thurston went about insulting her husband, but she was grateful that she would have time to sit quietly and gather herself together after the shock of Lady Gaddington approaching her.

“I suspect it is well that we have supplied ourselves with wine for this adventure,” the duchess said, settling herself in her chair.

Finella sat down next to her and watched as the crowds found their own boxes. The duke and Sir Edward were just across the ballroom. She watched as Lady Violet let herself into their box. The lady laughed as if it were a great joke and settled herself between the two gentlemen.

What must it be like to have the height and the confidence of a Lady Violet? Finella could hardly imagine it. She did not suppose Lady Violet would ever be in danger of overhearing herself described as a mushroom.

Finella averted her eyes from the duke’s box and in doing so, spotted Sir Roger.

She had not seen him until this moment. It was clear enough he had seen her though.

He waved enthusiastically. She averted her eyes from him too.

Finella stared at the glass of wine in her hand, as that seemed the safest direction at the moment.

“Come now, everyone,” Lady Burberry said. “That’s right, everybody get settled.”

The crowd did settle themselves and the room grew quiet. Though it was quiet, there seemed a tension in the air, as if everyone leaned just the littlest bit forward in anticipation.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Lady Burberry said.

“Gracious, we are together again, where does the time go? It seems only a minute ago, we were gathered here for last year’s tableau and here we are once more.

As you know, Lady Thurston’s creations are masterpieces of drama and pathos.

I have no doubt if Mr. William Shakespeare were alive today, he’d be here with us, eagerly anticipating what we are to hear and see.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you—a poetical tableau. ”