Miss Maude became less friendly. “Oh, Caroline is probably off in some corner flirting outrageously. Mama quite despairs that Caroline’s unladylike behavior will drive away the more serious of eligible gentlemen.”
“That’s difficult to believe, Miss Langley. Gentlemen adore lively, beautiful girls. She will probably have half a score of marriage proposals before the season has even begun.”
Miss Maude decided that Henrietta Rolland was as impertinent as she was homely. She looked down her long thin nose, taking in every aspect of the pea green gown that hung shapelessly on Miss Rolland’s shoulders, and gave a tittering, tight little laugh.
“You, certainly, Miss Rolland, need not concern yourself about being so bothered by the other sex.”
Hetty choked back a laugh, squinted at Miss Maude and said in that ghastly nasal twang, “Perhaps you can bear me company during the season, Miss Langley. We can criticize all the beautiful girls as we sit along the ballroom walls watching them dance.”
“Impertinent little twit,” Miss Maude said under her breath, but not under enough.
“Such an insufferable girl, isn’t she? However did you get rid of her so neatly?” Hetty turned about to see Miss Isabella Bentworth at her elbow.
“It’s not all that hard if you know how to insult her properly. Do forgive me, but I’m Henrietta Rolland. I wanted to make your acquaintance. You are quite the most beautiful girl in the room, you know. I’m sure Miss Maude could find ever so many awful things wrong with your person, your clothes, and your character.”
Miss Isabella Bentworth smiled, then grinned widely. “I haven’t met you before. Are you new in town?”
“Somewhat. I’ve seen you, Miss Bentworth, with a very handsome young gentleman. He’s tall and fair complexioned. Very dashing and princely I thought him.” That was going too far, she thought, with the princely part, but to her relief, Miss Isabella’s cheeks turned suddenly warm and she looked quickly down at the toes of her blue satin slippers. “I believe you’re speaking of Sir Harry Brandon.”
Hetty wasn’t deaf to the depression in Miss Bentworth’s voice. She knew she shouldn’t make a judgment of character on such short notice, yet she couldn’t help being drawn to Miss Bentworth. She said carefully, “I’ve heard of Sir Harry. He’s considered a very eligible bachelor, isn’t he?”
“I suppose so,” came a dull answer.
So Miss Bentworth did return Harry’s affection, Hetty thought, giving Sir Harry a mental kick for holding back from the young lady. Princely, ha. “You hold him in some regard, I gather.”
Miss Isabella eyed the sympathetic Miss Rolland, and said in a rush of confidence, “Oh, yes, Miss Rolland, but you see it doesn’t matter. My mama wishes to see me wed by the end of the season, for I have three sisters who must come out, and Harry blanches at the thought of marriage. He is all of twenty-four, yet he believes himself too young. That’s because his brother-in-law, the earl of March, was twenty-eight when he wed and that’s the age Harry agrees on, none other. He tells me I should only be fourteen-years-old right now instead of eighteen. He says it’s all my fault. He is sometimes more stubborn than my mama, which is a terrifying thought when one considers a lifetime with such a mate.”
It did indeed. And that sounded just like Harry’s logic, Hetty thought. She felt no sympathy whatsoever for the three unknown sisters and wondered fleetingly if her own mother, were she alive, would have pushed her to wed at the end of her first season as Isabella’s mama was doing. Goodness, and the season hadn’t even begun yet. She asked, “Does your mama have anyone in particular in mind, other than Sir Harry Brandon?”
“Yes, Sir William Filey. He’s very rich and a toad. He flatters Mama until I want to yell that she should marry him. They’re nearer the same age. He’s always polished, always says just the right thing, yet there’s something about him. I’m not at all certain that he is what he seems.”
“He’s old enough to be your father, just like you said. You’re right, have your mama wed him. It’s nonsense to think you should marry him. Surely, your mama couldn’t believe that such a match would prosper, surely she couldn’t believe you’d be happy with such a husband.” She wondered if Sir William had an affinity for young misses, at least very rich young misses.