Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“Matilda, dear, you must plan your wardrobe carefully,” Hazel said, folding a gown with precise movements. “Two weeks at Kenton, surrounded by eligible young men, one must make an impression. A lady cannot simply appear in any old dress and expect not to escape notice.”
Matilda rolled her eyes, packing her skirts into a trunk with deliberate carelessness. “Impression, Hazel? Pray, do not trouble yourself. It matters not what I wear. I shall be joining a nunnery soon after the baptism. None of these young men will see me for long.”
Cordelia bounced around the room, gathering jewelry from a velvet-lined box and holding up necklaces and earrings as though they were treasures from a crown. “Now, Matilda, this will brighten your gowns! A simple ribbon, a single jewel, and the gentlemen will surely take notice.”
Matilda regarded the sparkling trinkets with her usual skepticism. “Indeed. And if they do, I shall faint with the burden of flattery. I do hope you have prepared a stretcher.”
Hazel laid a small bottle of perfume on the bed beside her. “And this, my dear. A hint of fragrance. Light, subtle, entirely suitable for daytime company.”
Matilda picked it up, sniffed cautiously, and grimaced. “Subtle, you say? This smells as though it has aged in the family cellar for a decade. If I wear it, I imagine I shall attract a badger, or perhaps something more exotic, a racoon of particularly discerning taste.”
Cordelia gasped, clutching her pearls. “Matilda! Surely not a badger!”
“I am not averse to exaggeration,” Matilda said, setting the bottle aside.
“But let us face facts: if this perfume has survived two wars, a fire, and your uncle’s hunting dogs, it is likely to repel everyone except the local wildlife.
Perhaps I should smear it over my skirts in the hall and see what enters first.”
Hazel shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You are incorrigible. But I must say, your caution is wise. I have no desire to see a lady chased by a startled badger in the drawing room.”
Cordelia, undeterred, plucked another necklace from the box. “Then we shall try this instead. A bit of sparkle, some charm, and no wildlife involved.”
Matilda allowed herself a faint smile as she placed the jewels carefully in her trunk. “Very well. The jewels may stay. But the perfume shall remain a curiosity, like a relic best admired from afar.”
“Yes, it is good to have a strategy to find a proper suitor,” Cordelia nodded.
Matilda paused, staring at her friend. “I have mastered the art of pleasant well enough for tea and trivial company. But no amount of ribbon or lace will persuade me to seek a suitor. Nor would I wish to. My mind is made up.”
Hazel frowned, adjusting the folds of a dress with professional care. “My dear, a strategy is hardly about suitors. It is about propriety, about ensuring you are seen as a lady capable of navigating society with grace. Not a single misstep, and certainly nothing to provoke scandal.”
Matilda laughed softly, though her voice held an edge of weariness.
“Propriety, my dear Hazel, is precisely why I shall remove myself from it entirely. A fortnight among cousins, nephews, and acquaintances, mere practice in civility. Then, I shall take my leave from all these attentions and expectations.”
Cordelia flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. “What a tragedy that a lady as clever and amusing as you would banish herself from the world just as she begins to shine. Why, the very walls of Kenton will regret your absence!”
“I doubt it,” Matilda said, tucking a silk scarf into the corner of the trunk. “The walls care little for cleverness, and even less for amusement. They are indifferent, as all things should be, to the likes of me.”
Hazel softened, resting a hand on Matilda’s shoulder. “You must at least enjoy this, even if you believe it frivolous. Two weeks with friends, family, and yes, even scoundrels, need not be misery.”
Matilda allowed a faint smile, though her grey eyes remained distant. “I shall endure, dear Hazel, as one endures the cold. With patience, and nothing more. That will be all the enjoyment I permit myself.”
Cordelia flapped her hands in mock despair. “Oh, Matilda! Patience! What an utterly tedious companion! You must allow yourself some amusement or I shall be scandalized!”
Matilda tucked the last of her skirts into her trunk with a resigned sigh. “Well,” she said, brushing off her hands, “I shall find comfort in the child. At least the baby will not demand wit or repartee. And one may spend hours in their company without fear of being provoked.”
Cordelia, draping a scarf around her neck with theatrical flair, perked up instantly. “Oh, that is true! But do consider that he is the godfather, which means that while you dote on the infant, you might just stumble into him more than you would prefer.”
Matilda frowned. “I shall do no such thing. I intend to avoid all unnecessary encounters with that scoundrel.”
Hazel, folding a neatly pressed gown that did not make the selection, stiffened ever so slightly at Cordelia’s next words.
“Nonsense,” Cordelia said lightly, grinning at them both. “Perhaps, my dear Matilda, you might even try to attract him. After all, every time you two meet, sparks do seem to fly, albeit unpleasant ones.”
Matilda nearly dropped the trunk lid on her finger. “Attract him?” she spluttered, her eyes widening in shock. “He is the very last person I wish to think about, let alone attract! Surely you jest, Cordelia?”
Cordelia tossed her head, utterly unbothered. “I am never known for jesting about amusement, Matilda. And if sparks fly, well… one might as well see if they ignite a proper fire, don’t you think?”
Hazel froze, one hand halfway to straightening a pleat of fabric, staring at her friend with the faintest hint of panic. “Cordelia…” she began cautiously, “I do not think—”
“I for one, think it would be delightful,” Cordelia interrupted, cutting her off with glee. “Now, imagine the scandal, the laughter, the fun of it all!”
Matilda gaped at her. “Fun? The fun of deliberately annoying and provoking Jasper Everleigh? I should think you have quite lost your mind!”
“Why?” Cordelia chuckled. “It’s not as if you’re aren’t already provoking each other.”
Matilda fixed Cordelia with a pointed look. “Need I remind you of what happened at the ball? If you recall, I sought the sanctuary of the library to escape the press of attention and what did I find there?”
Hazel, who was absent when Matilda shared this story with Cordelia, blinked. “What?”
“I stumbled upon that scoundrel, Jasper Everleigh, pressed against a redheaded widow! In the library, of all places!” Matilda’s voice rose with indignation.
“Do you know what that is like? To be trapped in a room with a man behaving as though propriety were a trifle, and a widow leaning upon him as if he were a post to support her scandalous inclinations?”
Hazel froze mid-fold, eyes wide. “You what? Surely not! I… I had no idea this happened!”
Matilda threw up her hands in exasperation. “Clearly, you were blissfully spared the horror of it until now. But yes! I was met with the most offensive tableau imaginable. I barely escaped with my composure intact.”
Cordelia’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, but it was delightful gossip! You, flustered and upright, and the duke caught as he is, with the widow’s scarlet curls cascading over his coat! People whispered for hours afterward. Some thought it a comedy, some a scandal!”
Matilda groaned. “Scandal! It was nothing but sheer impropriety! And he… he had the audacity to tease me! Asked if I were jealous, of all things! Needless to say, all I wanted to do was escape the scene unobserved.”
“And yet,” Cordelia said slyly, “you did not escape entirely. My, my! What fun this fortnight at Kenton will be!”
Matilda groaned, dropping a ribbon into her trunk with unnecessary force. “I do not find amusement in being repeatedly accosted by that scoundrel.”
Hazel shook her head, muttering, “This is a disaster waiting to happen…”
Cordelia twirled, tossing a scarf over her shoulder. “Precisely why it will be glorious. Two weeks of unavoidable encounters! You, the duke, and the infant. Let the sparks fly!”
Matilda muttered something under her breath about raccoons, scandal, and the perils of chaotic friends, but she could not entirely deny the faint, reluctant flicker of amusement at the thought.