Chapter Two #2
Gwendolyn did not eat much, focusing more on preening for the two gentlemen who sat on either side of her, as well as Sir Percy at the table behind them and Mr. Walker who had moved his chair as close to her as possible. She gave out smiles as if she were a queen handing out bread to beggars.
But she did not feel very queenly. Grace’s silence throughout supper was like a rapier cutting into Gwendolyn’s complacency.
Each time Gwendolyn simpered at something that Major Enderby said or answered him with a pert quip, she felt as if she were betraying her friend.
But the more awkward she felt, not knowing how else to respond, the more she flirted with the men around her.
A troubled Mariana tried to kick her cousin’s ankle under the table, but Gwendolyn simply tucked her feet beneath her chair out of reach of Mariana’s foot, and continued her outrageous flirtation.
The delectable dishes on the table did not tempt her.
She found sustenance in the attention of the men, even the odious Lord Montgomery whose disdain was almost palpable, and Sir Percy whose company she had found unusually unsettling this evening.
*
Roland observed Gwendolyn Burroughs throughout supper.
He was concerned at how often Robert leaned over from his table and whispered something in Gwendolyn’s ear, and how she blushed and laughed each time he did.
But Montgomery admitted to himself that she had a fascinating ability to read each man and respond to him in a way that addressed his quirks and foibles.
It was only with him that she made no real effort.
Her vivacity drew Major Enderby out of his somberness and by the time the footmen cleared away the empty platters and plates and set three-tiered cake stands filled with tempting patisseries and bonbons on the tables, the major was engaged in an animated discussion about a recent production of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice.
Gwendolyn argued that the actress who portrayed Portia had not shown sufficient mercy towards Shylock.
Montgomery was intrigued. He bit into a luscious cream pastry as he watched her.
When she forgot to flirt, she was vivacious and alluring, an intelligent woman whose company he could find enjoyable, if the circumstances were different.
But just as he decided that he had been wrong in his initial assessment of the young beauty, his cousin, Robert Walker, leaned towards Gwendolyn.
Ignoring the major, he said, “Miss Burroughs, I always think that a pretty lady loses some of her attractiveness when she discusses serious matters. That is why one never sees a blue stocking with any measure of beauty. Come now, let’s talk of more enjoyable matters.
I trust you have not forgotten that you have promised to dance with me after supper. ”
Gwendolyn tossed her head with a laugh. “I will have to ensure that I cultivate pretty thoughts and sentiments so that my beauty is not marred. What do you think of the color of the roses in my hair? One of my most ardent admirers sent them to me, and I think they suit me quite well.”
Robert laughed, recognizing the tiny pink buds as ones his valet had selected from the flower shop near his apartment on St. James Street. “They are indeed lovely, but their beauty fades in comparison to that of the wearer.”
Major Enderby fell back into his usual taciturnity and Montgomery glowered at his cousin. But Robert and Gwendolyn were impervious to anyone else as they continued their flirtation.
When Walker paused to answer the elderly Miss Fritz’s query about the quality of the champagne, Gwendolyn surveyed the display of pastries that had been placed on the table.
She reached for a tiny confection covered in delicate white icing and decorated with tiny pink flowers.
She broke off one of the sugar flowers and placed it in her mouth, closing her eyes as the sweetness melted.
“Gwendolyn,” Lady Burroughs hissed, “too many cakes lead to plumpness and you are already less slender than is fashionable or appealing.”
Gwendolyn’s cheeks turned bright red and her blue eyes sharpened like pieces of steel, but she dropped the delicious-looking petit four onto her plate without taking a bite.
She loved bonbons and pastries but her dress had felt a little tight when she fastened the buttons that evening.
She dropped her hands to her lap and stared straight in front of her, trying not to blink as tears gathered in her eyes.
Mariana and Grace looked at her with sympathy.
Lord Montgomery turned his attention to Lady Burroughs, his eyes hooded but his mouth pulled into a tight line of disapproval.
Gwendolyn caught his expression from the corner of her eye and was certain that he too was criticizing her plumpness. Her fingernails dug into her palms and even through the thin silk of her gloves she could feel the half-moon shaped indentations the pressure left.
Major Enderby turned towards her, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Miss Burroughs, allow me to mention that you look remarkably well this evening, bright and vivacious.”
Gwendolyn relaxed slightly at the kindness in the major’s voice but the knot that her stomach had tied itself into tightened when Grace dropped her head to hide the way her lip trembled.
Gwendolyn didn’t know where to look and stared dully at her plate, acutely aware of the major sitting up straighter in his seat and of the sharp intake of breath he took as he studied Grace from beneath hooded lids.
But it was Lord Montgomery’s whispered, “Badly done,” that almost caused tears to spill down Gwendolyn’s cheeks.
Sir Percy, imbibing wine as if it were water at the table next to hers, laughed derisively.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin but her eyes stung and her cheeks could not turn any redder.
“Ah, Miss Burroughs, I recommend that you eat as many cakes as you can. There is something rather appealing about plump girls. Slim, elegant ladies look well from a distance, but plump girls find pleasure in ways that men particularly enjoy.” Sir Percy smirked.
Bonnie turned towards him. “What is that?” she wondered naively.
Guffaws of laughter from some of the men seated near Sir Percy greeted her question and the supposedly witty gentleman raked his eyes over her youthful figure. “Perhaps I will show you in a few years’ time.”
Mrs. Blythe, furious at Sir Percy’s outrageous suggestion but restricted by the etiquette required from a lady, could not respond. She focused on distracting her younger daughter by changing the subject. “Girls, what do you think? Lady Maitland has invited us to her Venetian breakfast next week.”
Her ploy worked and Bonnie said, “I met the younger Miss Maitland earlier, and she is fun. We have planned to meet in Hyde Park tomorrow at five o’ clock.” She was soon imagining all the delights awaiting her at yet another amusement that she could attend.
But Gwendolyn could not be distracted by such ploys.
She twisted her fingers together and refused to look at Sir Percy.
Like most young ladies, she did not know much about the secret life of married couples, or why men kept mistresses and visited brothels, but sometimes when a man took her hand or helped her into her coat, she felt a shiver of unexpected pleasure ripple through her body.
And she had a vague notion of what Sir Percy was inferring, even though she did not think it would be pleasant to be kissed by him.
*
A small frown creased Roland’s forehead.
He had not spoken much during supper, preferring to observe and consider rather than being drawn into Gwendolyn’s flirtations.
Her behavior during supper had confirmed his opinion that she was a vain coquette with little to recommend her beyond beauty.
And yet she had contributed with wit and vivacity when the conversation had turned to music and books and even he had found himself smiling at one of her anecdotes about when she had traveled to the Lake District and mistaken Windermere for the sea, imagining the farther shore was the Americas.
She had been only eight years old at the time but nevertheless showed remarkable good humor about her own errors.
However, Lady Burroughs’s cutting comment about her daughter’s figure had stirred him. It was impossible not to compare her treatment of Gwendolyn with the kindness Mrs. Blythe showed her daughters and an unexpected pity for the acclaimed beauty tugged at his heart.
An attempt at a smile pulled at her mouth as Mrs. Blythe laughingly encouraged her daughters to try an unusual artichoke-flavored ice cream created by the famed Gunter.
But Gwendolyn’s shoulders were stiff and a wistful despair flooded her eyes.
She carefully avoided looking at the little cake that lay abandoned on her plate.
Roland should have been pleased that the vain coquette had been brought down a peg but unaccountably, he wanted to see the smile return to Gwendolyn’s lips. And he wanted to be the one to put it there.
But before he gave into impulsive behavior that he was bound to regret, the major acted.
*
Gwendolyn felt a rush of warmth through her when the tightness around Major Enderby’s mouth softened slightly and he nodded at her, his eyes softer than they had been the whole night.
“Lady Wetherspoon hired an excellent French patisserie chef for the ball and his creations are superb. It would be a great pity not to try one. I am partial to profiteroles.”
He took one off the tray of cakes and cut it in two, offering one half to Gwendolyn. She thanked him quietly and ignored the waves of disapproval that flowed from her mother.