Lady Lavinia's Match. Mary Nichols
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‘Vinny,’ the Duchess said after he was out of earshot and Lavinia had resumed her seat. ‘Do I detect a slight tease on your part?’
‘He is so serious, Mama, and so correct.’
‘Is that not good?’
‘Yes, but is it real?’
‘Possibly. But time will tell. I am glad you have not been entirely bowled over by him.’
‘Why, Mama?’
‘We know nothing of him. And until we do, you would be wise to hold back a little.’
‘I am not such a ninny as to fall for the first young man who pays me compliments, Mama, but he is so considerate and attentive. He is also very handsome, do you not think?’
‘Yes, I believe he is.’ Frances smiled. ‘Perhaps it would be as well to find out more about him before he makes his intentions any more obvious than they are already. What has he told you?’
‘Only that his older brother, who was James’s friend, died in tragic circumstances and he stayed at home with his grandfather to help run the estate. It is quite extensive, I believe.’
‘That, I suppose, is a start. It may be that the Duke knows more, though I hesitate to trouble him at the moment.’
‘Mama, there is no need for that. I should hate Lord Wincote to hear you were making enquiries and assume from that I was setting my cap at him. I am sure we shall learn more little by little as the Season progresses; after all, there will be rehearsals when we are bound to meet in company.’
‘Speaking of rehearsals, Vinny, exactly how many people have you invited here tomorrow?’
‘Only a handful. Lord Wincote, James, Lord Haverley, Sir Percy, Mr Martin Drew, Mr Benedict Willoughby and Constance. I have yet to find more ladies, but Lord Haverley said he would bring his daughters.’
‘You had better warn cook to prepare some refreshments for everyone.’ She stood up. ‘Now, it is nearly five o’clock and we had better go up and change for dinner. The Duke has promised to try and be home in time to escort us, otherwise he will meet us at the theatre.’
Lavinia left to obey. Daisy, once more her usual bright self, brushed and arranged her hair in a Grecian style that showed off her long neck and narrow shoulders, before helping her to dress in a rose-pink taffeta gown, trimmed with silk roses along the line of the high waist and around the hem. Slipping her still slightly sore feet into white slippers and picking up her fan, gloves and reticule, she made her way down to the drawing room, to find her father already dressed for dinner, discussing his day with the Duchess.
‘She positively refuses to budge,’ he was saying. ‘She will not leave the country for any consideration.’ Marcus Stanmore, third Duke of Loscoe, was, in his forties, still a very handsome man, but tonight he looked tired and his face bore signs of strain. ‘Brougham pretends he is speaking her words, but I fancy it is the other way about and she says what he tells her to.’
‘But Sir Henry Brougham is her attorney, is he not?’ Frances put in gently. ‘He is bound to advise her as to the proper course she should take.’
‘If I could believe that he was not trying to make political capital out of the poor woman, I might agree with you. It could bring the government down.’
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