Chapter Five #2
Before Abigail could think of a reply, Judith had been approached and then promptly disappeared onto the dance floor with Mr. Suchet. The older man held onto her hand in a manner that Judith seemed to dislike profoundly. It was as if he thought he owned Judith.
“What a fine match that would be,” remarked Miss Guthrie, her smile warm as if she could imagine the wedding ceremony and was already enjoying the cake. “Your mother would be very pleased to see such attention being paid to your sister.”
That would be an advantage of having Sophia here, Abigail thought, The pair could slip away from Miss Guthrie and her nieces, and head for the refreshment table.
At least that was something she had enjoyed about Sophia’s presence—her sister was always fun, a shield from others, brightening any ball.
Surely, she was old enough to try ratafia or even a sneaky glass of flip since she liked the rum, without anyone present judging or stopping her now.
Sophia and she had tried straight rum once when they were younger, but their mother had snatched the glass out of Abigail’s hand before she’d had more than one gulp…
“Don’t you think, dear?” Miss Guthrie prodded Abigail, having received no reply at her speculating over a match between Mr. Suchet and Judith.
“He’s twice my sister’s age.” Abigail was disgusted at the thought.
The idea of having to interact with both Mr. Suchet or his nephew on a regular basis churned her stomach.
Not to mention having to listen to all of the confusing and ribald conversations.
It was not at all how she wished to spend any amount of time, no matter how dire their financial straits.
“Come now, Mr. Suchet is only in his fifties, and Miss Fossey must be at least nine and twenty if she’s a day. Despite your sister’s many charms, I am sure she would welcome the match.”
He’s still too old, Abigail thought. Then she recalled the desperate note in her mother’s letters. Would Judith wed Mr. Suchet to save them all?
The music swelled. The dance floor overflowed as the different sets worked their way down the line.
Abigail tried to keep an eye on her sister, as Judith seemed to argue her way through the set with Mr. Suchet.
If his thoughts were bent on matrimony, Abigail was pleased to see that Judith did not seem that way inclined.
“Do you not think your sister wishes to wed?” Miss Eugenia asked, her voice sickly sweet. “Miss Sophia certainly gave that impression she would wed any gentleman who asked.”
Miss Guthrie made a hushing noise at this, although Abigail knew the truth of it, since all of them had pinned their hopes on Sophia winning a good match.
“I hear you yourself have made quite a conquest,” said the older Miss Costigan, her eyes round and focused entirely on Abigail. “We made the acquaintance of the most pleasing of gentlemen, Mr. O’Sullivan. We were informed he spends a great deal of time exploring the beachside and coves with you.”
For a fleeting moment, Abigail felt a rush of pleasure at the envy in the other woman’s voice.
It was nice, that new sensation. Not one she often got to enjoy any envy from women, and yet as she looked around the ballroom, she could not see Mr. O’Sullivan.
He had failed to come in her moment of triumph.
She wished more heartily to tell both Costigan girls that he was due here tonight.
In fact, he had asked specifically to dance with her, and yet there was no sign of him.
That sensation of pride started to shrink within her, as Miss Costigan licked her lips and continued.
“He seems a most charming man. I thought so when we had our card party with him. Mr. O’Sullivan seemed so curious about the local area, I do think he means to settle here.”
“He might wish it all the more if there is a sufficiently charming prospect before him.” Mr. Aglow had arrived and beamed at both of the Miss Costigans. He was a portly man with rotund cheeks and a fondness for Miss Guthrie. “No way better than to a man’s heart than—”
Both of the Costigans started to giggle furiously.
“Yes,” Abigail said, annoyance mounting within her, and what might be the first trickles of embarrassment.
That others could see Mr. O’Sullivan’s appeal was one thing, that others might want him, again there was little Abigail could do about that—but that she should be made to feel as if she were chasing after him, that she could not abide.
“And obviously a good-hearted one, if he is happy to…indulge you on your hunt for what was it…” Miss Eugenia looked to her aunt.
“Fossils? Long dead things, I think—insects and bugs…” She winced as if those creatures would somehow creep out of the ground and come after her. How Abigail wished they would.
“They are preserved, so we can see them and understand their existence. So better to understand our own.” Abigail’s anger cracked, and all the reasons why she avoided company came rushing back in as she stared at the woman before her.
How could so many people be ignorant and uncaring about the wonders of the natural world?
“It’s all terribly dirty,” Miss Costigan said as if this settled the matter. “Besides, the reverend said things like that, which were long buried, were meant to stay there. They are put in the ground by the devil.”