Chapter 14 #2
Their own names were called, several heads turning as Lady Frances was announced. She met the looks of greeting with a dazzling smile, her eyes alight, her pretty face as bright and hungry as…well, as a well-trained dog eager to be let off the leash and start its self-important work.
But Madelaine quashed her amusement. It was hardly fair. Lady Frances lived for this life, and was good at it, and thrived. It was mean-spirited to begrudge skill, no matter how it was applied.
And it was just as well that she had schooled her expression.
The gazes that turned Lady Frances’s way then shifted to her, curious, assessing.
Lady Frances saw the interest and clasped Madelaine’s elbow to her side, more than ready to fan the mildest attention into intrigue, so long as she could be at the centre of it.
They went forth together, each of them to wrest what they could from public opinion.
And if every tall, dark-haired man made Madelaine’s heart hitch, it was only natural.
She and Lord Cotereigh had parted on bad terms, with much embarrassingly heated action on her side and a whiff of unapologetic impropriety on his.
Yes, she was a widow. It did not mean he ought to close the door, or take her wrist, or stand so close. He was the only man in the world who could smirk with the whole of his marble-cut jaw. He had no right to do any of it.
“Mrs Ardingly. Lady Frances.”
She jumped at the sound of Lord Cotereigh’s voice. Stupidly she spun to face him, meaning her blush was in full force when she met his eyes. There. There was that very same smirk.
He bowed to them both, exquisite in his dark evening dress. He might well have been expressly designed to wear it. Black and white. His very colours.
“You look in good spirits, Lord Cotereigh,” said Lady Frances with a quizzing smile.
“Because I find you looking so well, Lady Frances. And you too, Mrs Ardingly. I trust you are quite recovered from last night’s indisposition?”
What a ridiculous game to play. But she was determined to play it as well as he did. If Lord Cotereigh could bathe a lice-ridden child, she could perform society manners.
“Perfectly recovered, I thank you.” Her gracious smile was a mask, wiping away all traces of her blush.
He entered into some polite greeting with Lady Frances’s mother.
Attempting to find other places to put her attention, Madelaine looked around.
It was hard to see far due to the crush of people.
Her attention snagged on the back of a tall man nearby.
It might have been the very duke they’d followed into the house.
She gave a start at Lady Frances’s voice. “Cote, do tell me, I heard you discovered some poor street urchin in a dreadful state. How is the boy?”
Whatever tactic Lord Cotereigh had used to secure Lady Frances’s cooperation tonight, she seemed determined to punish him a little for it. She met the twitch of his frown with a smile, her fair head tilted in innocent curiosity.
“Doing well, so the doctor informs me,” replied Lord Cotereigh.
“Did you really take him to your house? What a very grand gesture! I’m sure I don’t know what your servants could have thought.”
Lord Cotereigh glanced around then, seeing some people attempting to squeeze past behind them, ushered them all several steps back until they were as close to their neighbours as politeness allowed.
Which was very close indeed, given the crush.
Madelaine winced at finding herself almost shoulder to shoulder with the tall duke.
“A servant’s life is so very boring without a little novelty, don’t you think?” Lord Cotereigh said to Lady Frances, his smile sportive, no trace of irritation left.
“But whatever do you mean to do with the creature now you have him?”
“I thought to ask Mrs Ardingly’s advice on that. She’s an expert at providing support to the poor. Mrs Ardingly knows a great deal about workhouses and charity schools and all sorts of benevolent societies.” He met her startled look. “Isn’t that right?”
She stared at him. He’d been the one to warn her not to talk of charity tonight, and now he was forcing her onto the topic. And so very loudly too! Several people had turned to look.
“If there’s anyone who knows how best to help this boy, it must be you, Mrs Ardingly,” he went on.
His dark eyes held hers, that silvery glint of amusement in them.
Minutely, he gave the slightest nod over her shoulder.
She turned and met the interested gaze of a young woman who appeared to be with the tall duke.
The woman gave a small smile, one that apologised for being caught eavesdropping, before turning back to her companion’s conversation.
“Surely,” Lord Cotereigh continued, his voice now at the level of someone talking to an elderly, hard-of-hearing relative, “you must know of some benevolent education societies or some such thing, Mrs Ardingly. I know how strongly you believe in the education of young people otherwise denied such benefits due to poverty or circumstance or even their sex.”
Madelaine gave Lady Frances an uncertain look, feeling the need for backup. But that lady was watching Lord Cotereigh in narrow-eyed amusement, seemingly fully cognisant of his intentions, even if she didn’t quite approve.
“Excuse me.”
The voice came from just behind Madelaine’s shoulder. She turned and found herself face to face with the duke’s companion again—a very petite, slender woman, her hair cropped stylishly short.
“How rude of me to interrupt,” apologised the woman with an engaging smile, “but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation about schools.
It’s something of an interest of mine—I’m attempting to set up one of my own, you see.
” She smiled to herself, wrinkling her nose in self-approbation.
“But I have forgotten to introduce myself.” She held out a very small hand. “I am, ah, the Duchess of Cumbria.”
The slight hesitation made it sound like she didn’t quite believe it. And now the man at her side—the duke—turned and smiled down at her, the smile mostly in his eyes.
They were husband and wife? From her first quick glance at the group, she’d assumed the beautiful fair-haired lady with them would be the duchess.
But now Madelaine noted how that lady had a hand on the arm of an energetic-looking young man in a military red coat.
All four of the party were looking at her.
She dipped her head and curtsied. “Your Grace.”
“Oh, and this is my husband, Cumbria, and my brother, Captain Littleton, and his wife, Mrs Littleton. You are Mrs Ardingly? Did I hear that correctly?”
“Yes. Very pleased to meet you.” She introduced Lady Frances, her mother, and Lord Cotereigh.
Lord Cotereigh began a conversation with the duke, which Lady Frances and her mother attached themselves to.
It left Madelaine and the duchess free to converse.
Her brother and his wife also joined in, though it was the animated little duchess who led the way, describing her vision of a language school for women with such fervent, bright-eyed enthusiasm Madelaine was half ready to ditch her own cause and sign up.
It was a little awkward to admit that her own involvement with educational establishments was somewhat limited, though she had several useful contacts she promised to forward to the duchess.
“My own interest in education is rather broad. It is more the manner in which children are treated in general that concerns me.”
She wished she had a glass of champagne inside her. How unbearable if the duchess or her companions laughed at her like so many others had done before. But what a boon it would be to bring the duchess to her cause—a duchess as patron!
“The way they are taught?” The duchess nodded eagerly. “Indeed, I have read Maria Edgeworth’s book on the subject.”
Madelaine only just stopped herself squeaking You have? It wouldn’t do to question a duchess. Or appear too relieved, too desperate.
“Isn’t it a fascinating study?” she said instead.
“And its central tenets are some which underpin my own beliefs. A rational, scientific approach is necessary. We must look at the evidence, not outmoded traditions. But even more important is Miss Edgeworth’s emphasis on how early childhood experiences shape the adult.
It is that experience, that treatment of children… ”
She was losing her nerve, rattling around the edges of her subject. She took a breath.
“In short, I believe physical punishment of children must be stopped, and not only because of its inherent cruelty, but because it harms far more than their flesh. It stunts the growth of their hearts and creates bitter resentment and distrust where there ought to be loving connection.”
The duchess’s grey eyes had grown wide, but she nodded, more thoughtful than shocked.
“Yes. I suppose it very well might.” She looked at her brother. “My brother and I never went away to school. Our parents taught us. And they never once raised a hand against us. It is a small sample, but it goes to show an education can be delivered without such means.”
“How anyone could ever strike a child is beyond me,” said Mrs Littleton, a red flame kindling on her porcelain cheeks. She looked remarkably furious for such an angel. “I am quite in agreement with you, Mrs Ardingly.”
Relief washed through Madelaine, more pleasant than any glass of champagne.
They spoke on the subject for several moments more, and it was only when the duke broke in to murmur a word to his wife that Madelaine looked around, realising the band had just struck their warning chord.
The first dance was about to begin—and Lord Cotereigh was leading Lady Frances away to the ballroom.
If her relief had been the delicious warmth of champagne, now she felt a sudden swamping of cold water. But that was ridiculous. He’d said he would dance with her, and so she supposed he would. It was absurd to expect it to be the first dance.
She rearranged the bracelets on her wrist, turning back to her new acquaintance with a fixed smile, but that group was breaking up too.
“You promised, Hessie,” Captain Littleton was saying to his sister.
“As if it’s a chore!”
“My wife, you see,” the Duke of Cumbria said to Madelaine with a smile, “has forsaken me to stand up with her brother instead.”
“You know how I love to dance,” protested the captain.
“And I’m in no fit state,” Mrs Littleton confided for Madelaine’s benefit, a shy hand going to her stomach.
“Yes, and you’ve been standing up far too long already.” Her husband scanned the room. “Look, there are your sisters. I’ll deposit you in their care.” He grinned. “Don’t hate me for it.”
She smiled a farewell at Madelaine, and the captain led her away.
“I’m to be all alone, am I?” said the duke. “I don’t suppose you’d come to my rescue, Mrs Ardingly, and do me the honour of this dance?”
“Oh yes!” the duchess agreed. “Not that a country dance is a very wonderful place for conversation, but you must let her tell you all about her cause. I’m determined to be a subscriber!”