Sophie will enjoy your company and we can give the girls a Season to remember.’
‘Thank you, James. Let’s put it to the girls over dinner.’
Put it to the girls, he mused, as if they would be allowed to veto the suggestion. He decided not to comment.
When the two girls appeared at the dining table, they were dressed decorously. Beth’s gown was in deep rose-pink silk with a boat-shaped neck, which emphasised her smooth shoulders and long neck. The waistline, in its natural place, was encircled by a wide ribbon. Her hair had been brushed and coiled on top of her head. Livvy was in a blue gown that almost exactly mirrored the colour of her eyes. It was trimmed with quantities of matching lace. They curtsied to their uncle. ‘Good evening, Uncle,’ they said together.
He bowed slightly. ‘Elizabeth. Olivia.’
‘Oh, we are in for a scolding,’ Livvy said, as they took their places at the table and the maids moved forward to serve them. ‘His Grace is being formal.’
In spite of himself, James laughed. ‘Not at all, but you are both young ladies now and must be treated as such.’
‘Does that mean we are to be given more freedom?’ Beth asked.
‘What can you mean, more freedom?’ he queried. ‘You are not confined, are you? You may come and go within reason. I go so far as to say you are allowed far more licence that most young ladies in your position.’
Beth realised that he had seen her coming back to the house, in spite of the care she had taken to come in by the kitchen door and take the back stairs to her room. It probably meant her mother had been scolded about it and she was sorry for that. How she hated the unnatural manners of society, which dictated how she should behave. If she had been a boy…She smiled to herself; she would be Sir Something-or-other Harley, baronet and master of Beechgrove.
It was a large solid house, built a century before in rich red brick. She loved it, she loved everything about it, its nooks and crannies, the huge kitchens, the gleaming windows, the mix of old and new furniture, the surrounding gardens, particularly the gardens, which people came from miles to see and admire. Beth had jokingly suggested they ought to charge them for the privilege, but her mother had been horrified at the very idea. It was their duty to be hospitable, she said.
‘You are smiling,’ her uncle commented, while her mother picked at the fish on her plate. ‘Will you share the joke with us?’
‘I was thinking what it must be like to be a boy.’
It was the wrong thing to say because it reminded him of what he had seen. ‘Elizabeth, you are not a boy, you are a young lady, and wearing male clothes will not make you one. Where did you get them from?’
‘I found them in the attic. I believe they belonged to Papa before he went into the army. He must have been quite slender then, for they fit me well enough.’
That was what she reminded him of when he had seen her in the garden: her long-dead father. She had the same proud walk; had Harriet noticed it too? Was that why she had allowed it, to bring back a little of the husband she had lost or perhaps conjure up the son she had never had but had always longed for? ‘I think it is time you had a Season and learned what is expected of you,’ he said. ‘You, too, Livvy. Naturally, I shall sponsor you both.’
‘Oh, that means every impoverished bachelor in town will be all over us,’ Beth said. ‘The famous Harley girls, nieces to the Duke of Belfont, on the marriage mart, the objects of every rake, gambler and spotty young shaver who fancies his chances. It will be hateful.’
‘You must have a very poor opinion of me if you think I will allow that to happen,’ he said. ‘You will be protected from the undesirable—’
‘And from anyone in the least bit interesting too.’
‘Not at all. Credit me with a little compassion.’
‘Beth, please don’t be difficult,’ Harriet said.
‘I am sorry, Mama, but you know how I feel about the false way husbands are chosen. I want to be in love with the man I marry. Who he is, and how rich he is, is unimportant.’
‘You will not be forced into marriage, Beth,’ James said gently. ‘The idea is simply to introduce you to society and to allow you to choose for yourself. Your mother married for love, I married for love—I do not see why you should not do so too.’
‘Within reason,’ she added, suddenly thinking of Toby. He was so easy with her, but then they had known each other since they were tiny children, had as good as grown up together, and the difference in their status was unimportant.
‘Within reason,’ James concurred, as if he could guess her thoughts.
‘I should like to be married,’ Livvy put in. ‘He must be handsome, of course, and not too old, but rich enough to have extensive stables. Horses must be his passion.’
James laughed. ‘Then we shall have to see if we can suit you. But there is no hurry, you are still very young.’
‘And Beth must be accommodated first.’
‘That would be best,’ their mother put in.
‘Then I do hope you are not going to be difficult, Beth,’ Livvy said, turning to her sister. ‘I do not want to let my perfect partner slip through my fingers because you are prevaricating.’
Beth longed to suggest that they should go without her and leave her to her gardening and her dreams of becoming a famous botanist, but she knew that would upset her mother, so she said nothing. They spent some time discussing the arrangements, when they would travel and whom they would take. Jeannette, her mother’s maid, would accompany them, of course, and Miss Andover, known as Nan, who had been the girls’ governess but had agreed to take over the role of maid to the girls. They no longer needed a teacher and she had decided it was better than being pensioned off. Their coachman would drive them and Edward Grimble, the young groom, would ride Livvy’s mare, Zephyr. She positively refused to go without her horse and her mama would not let her ride her all the way to London herself.
‘What about you?’ James asked Beth. ‘Do you wish to have your mount brought to town?’
Beth wished she could suggest Toby rode her horse to London, then at least she would have some sensible company, someone to talk to. They might even go to Kew Gardens together, but she knew it was too much to ask. He would not leave his work in the garden; nature could not wait on her whims. ‘I will be quite content with a hired hack, Uncle, thank you,’ she said. Wealthy as he was, and however extensive the stables at Dersingham Park, his country seat, he did not keep many horses in London.
‘Then shall we say ten days from now? You will be there right at the beginning of the season.’
‘And shall we be invited to the coronation?’ Livvy asked.
‘Oh, Livvy, surely you do not want to attend that,’ Beth put in. ‘All that dressing up in the heat of the summer and standing about for hours and hours and for what?’
‘To see the King and Queen crowned, of course.’
‘If her Majesty is allowed anywhere near the ceremony,’ Beth added. She held no brief for the Royal
