Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [29]
Eleanor drew in her breath to reply, half turning toward Charlotte as if to introduce her, but the duchess plunged on.
“He isn’t radical, is he?” She stared fiercely. “I can’t abide radicals—so unreliable. What does Lord Anstiss think? Perhaps I shall give a ball myself. I shall invite Mr. Radley, and of course Mr. Fitzherbert, and see for myself. Shall you be at Henley this year?”
“Oh indeed,” Eleanor replied. “I love watching the boats, and if the weather is agreeable it is a delightful way to spend a summer day. Shall you, your grace?”
“But of course. I have three daughters still to marry, and as we all know, regattas can be splendid for that.” She nodded meaningfully. “Lord Randolph Churchill proposed to Miss Jerome after only four days’ acquaintance at the Cowes regatta.”
“I heard the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough were very much against it,” Eleanor replied. “Although of course that was some time ago now. And it did not prevent the marriage.”
“Well she was an American,” the duchess pointed out reasonably. “And not everyone is prepared to marry an American, no matter how beautiful she is or how much he may need the money. I am not at all sure I should. But I shall certainly be at Henley, you may depend upon it.”
She glanced around for the first time to make sure her daughters were still with her. On assuring herself they were, she resumed the conversation. “And that is one place one may be reasonably certain one will not run into the fearful Mrs. Langtry. All over London ladies are obliged to invite the wretched creature, or the Prince of Wales and the whole Marlborough House set will not come. It is too bad.”
“I would rather forgo the privilege than be obliged to invite someone I did not care for,” Eleanor said candidly.
“Well of course one would,” the duchess agreed tartly. “But we cannot all afford to. Your position is assured, and you have no daughters to marry. I cannot indulge myself so. The duke, may the Lord bless him, has neither wit nor influence to obtain a position in the government, and I am obliged to society for all my entertainment.” She screwed up her face in an expression of intensity. “Have you any acquaintance with Mr. Oscar Wilde and that very eccentric set? I hear they are quite marvelously amusing, and of course pretend to be very wicked.”
She lifted her shoulders. “Young Fitzherbert told me it is all a pose. He associated with them, before he agreed to stand for Parliament, but he had to give it up. There is a fine marriage proposed. Her mother is delighted.” Her voice cooled and her face lost its enthusiasm. “Quite a feather in her cap. Though I admit Odelia—if that is her name—is a handsome enough girl and knows precisely what to do, what to say, and how to dress; always an advantage. Don’t you think so, Mrs….” She turned to Charlotte, her wide blue eyes full of inquiry.
“Mrs. Pitt,” Charlotte supplied. “Mrs. Radley is my sister.” She thought she had better explain herself before anything further was said which might prove embarrassing. “Indeed, there is always an advantage in being well taught, and biddable.”
The duchess looked at her with acute perception.
“Pray do not humor me, Mrs. Pitt. I fear I have overstated my case. It is good in brides; it becomes a bore in a married woman.” She snorted very slightly. “No one ever had any pleasure out of life being biddable. I think I shall inquire more into Mr. Oscar Wilde. If I am forced to entertain the disreputable, I had rather it were a man, and a wit, than a harlot any day.” Her eyebrows shot up. “What on earth use have I for yet another beautiful woman of amenable virtue? I am pleased to have met you, Mrs. Pitt. You must call upon me some time. Lady Byam. Come Annabel, Amelia, Jane. For goodness