Page 20 of The Gentlewoman Companion

Louisa watched Miss Trelawney as she sipped her tea daintily. She was nearly as perfectly poised as Lady Halverton and had a glint in her eyes, as if she always had an entertaining thought to share. What Louisa wouldn’t give to impress her and call her a friend, to establish a firm place of belonging in the society surrounding Lundbrooke.

“Miss Thorpe,” Lady Halverton said, “tell our guests about yourself.”

A knot began forming in Louisa’s middle. These women seemed to disapprove of her without even knowing her greatest offense, but she placed her tea on the table and folded her hands in her lap as she’d seen Lady Halverton do. “I am from Cornwall. My father⁠—”

“Of course. I recognize the accent,” Lady Waxpole said. “My brother’s wife is from the West Country and speaks with much the same provincial lilt. One hardly knows how it seeps into refined households, but there we are.” She chuckled and popped a blueberry into her mouth.

Was this why Louisa was so easily dismissed? She practiced speaking like Lady Halverton when she read aloud, but it seemed she required more training.

Miss Trelawney stifled a giggle but turned serious under Lady Halverton’s frown.

“We are not without our own unrefined behaviors,” Lady Halverton said with a sharpness that did not seem to penetrate her guests’ understanding.

All the same, aching warmth spread through Louisa’s chest at hearing Lady Halverton defend her. She lowered her head to conceal a smile.

Mrs. Waxpole said, “That strong r and those vowels. Say those words again, from Cornwall and Fa⁠—”

Lady Halverton stood, and the other women followed. “I believe we must cut our visit short. Next time we meet, I expect proper respect will be shown to my friend.”

Friend? Louisa glanced at her employer.

Mrs. Waxpole’s neck splotched red.

Miss Trelawney, perhaps wishing to remain in Lady Halverton’s graces, reached for Louisa’s hand and said, “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Thorpe. I hope we shall meet again.”

The women departed, Mrs. Waxpole muttering to herself that Louisa spoke like a pirate.

More callers came. Some snubbed Louisa or spoke of her as if she was not there. Each time, Lady Halverton reproved them, and each time, they were quick to mend their ways, eager to please the countess.

When calling hours ended, Louisa leaned back and released a sigh. Then the butler entered, followed by Mrs. Beecham and Miss Fischer. More callers?

Lady Halverton nearly ran to them. “Miss Thorpe, you remember my dear friends, Mrs. Beecham and her sister Miss Fischer.”

Miss Fischer took Louisa’s hand in her long, thin fingers. “Lovely to see you again, dear.” She turned back to Lady Halverton. “We arrived late on purpose to avoid your other callers, but we will leave if you don’t want us.”

“I always want you, but you might have come earlier and done me the favor of scaring off the other guests.”

They all laughed. The sisters appeared everything proper, but Louisa understood why some might avoid them. Their intellect could be intimidating, and if Mrs. Beecham was separated from her husband, she was imbued in scandal, regardless of her innocuous appearance.

The ladies seated themselves while Louisa rang for fresh tea.

“Miss Thorpe, tell us what you thought of the literary breakfast.” Mrs. Beecham wore a whimsical array of feathers in her hair and a lilac gown. From beneath her skirts protruded bright green walking boots. Her attire contrasted sharply with her sister, who wore her usual plain brown linen.

Louisa tried to think how to express her admiration for the estate without implying that she was the sort of woman who might need to live there someday. “I liked it very much. The tea cakes were excessively fine. And the conversation,” she added.

“I’ve been considering what you said about Miss Astell being an obscure figure,” Miss Fischer said. “That fact is lamentable. You know, there are even older accounts that delineate the plight of women. Have you read Chaucer? ‘The Wife of Bath’s Tale’ proves the plight against subjugation is an old problem.” Miss Fischer plunged a biscuit into her tea, which Louisa was not sure was entirely conventional.

“I am not familiar with Chaucer,” Louisa said.

“I shall lend it to you, if you are not opposed, my lady.”

With lively eyes and a faint smile, Mrs. Beecham said, “It is a bawdy story, but seen in the correct light, it proves instructive.”

“You needn’t ask my permission.” Lady Halverton patted Louisa’s knee. “She can decide for herself.”

Both sisters blinked at Louisa. Was this a test? No one had offered her access to a “bawdy story” before. Grasping for time, Louisa dipped her own biscuit into her teacup. “Perhaps Lady Halverton and I can read it together?”

“Very wise, my dear.” Miss Fischer nodded vigorously. “Just the thing.”