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‘I have come,’ Julia began, once they’d taken a cup of tea, and after Lady Susan had nudged her in the ribs, ‘to speak to you about my literary evening. You have to buy a ticket, you know. It is in aid of the foundling home.’
‘What Julia means,’ put in Lady Susan with a quick frown of reproof, ‘is that we very much hope you will attend. We have both noticed you are not going about as much as usual and, in certain ways, I can understand why not. But this,’ she said leaning forwards to make her point, ‘is important.’
‘I think we are supposed to be going to dinner with some business connections of my uncle’s that evening.’
Lady Susan looked annoyed. ‘There is no reason why you have to go, too, is there? Don’t you think you might be excused? You could still reach Julia’s house in time if I sent a carriage and a brace of footmen to fetch you.’
‘Surely my attendance won’t make any difference...’
‘Oh, yes, it will,’ Lady Susan snapped. ‘We need you there because of Cynthia Lutterworth. Cynthia means to read us some of her poems. You do remember Cynthia, do you not?’
She put the term ‘poetess’ alongside the name of
Lutterworth and came up with the image of a wild-haired creature, just as Lady Susan went on, ‘And I’m quite sure, having been the target of malicious gossip yourself, that you understand how cruel some people can be. How unfair. Just because she is a woman, and her parents’ money comes from trade, some people will take delight in mocking her.’
‘It isn’t fair,’ put in Julia. ‘When she is just doing her part to raise money for charity.’
‘But surely, if her poetry is any good, people will have no call to mock...’ Henrietta trailed away as the two visitors exchanged a significant look.
‘It isn’t that her verses are dreadful,’ said Julia.
‘No, they’re certainly no worse than many others I could name,’ finished Lady Susan. ‘And if she were only pretty, or had a title, they would garner a great deal of rapturous applause,’ she added with a sneer.
Henrietta promptly changed her mind about Lady Susan. Though she had not been able to warm to her to begin with, it seemed that once Lady Susan had made a friend, she was loyal. And that counted for much, in the circles she inhabited. She could so easily have bowed to the prevailing opinions and joined in the mockery of one who had no means of defending herself. But for some reason, Lady Susan had decided she liked Cynthia, or her poems, and was not afraid to say so.
And had Lady Carelyon not predicted she would be in need of friends, once she and Lord Deben were finished? Having friends would help. Not that she would dream of confiding in them, but at least it would be comforting to think there were some people who actually wanted to be with her for no other reason than that they appeared to like her.
‘Very well, I shall come and applaud with great enthusiasm, no matter how dreadful I find her verse.’
Julia beamed at her.
‘Thank you,’ said Lady Susan. ‘That will be a great help. I have already persuaded Lady Twining to have Mr Wythenshawe go on first.’
Henrietta wondered briefly why Lady Twining had allowed Lady Susan to have any say in the running order of the evening at an event to be held in her house. But then she decided there were probably not very many people who could put a halt to Lady Susan once she’d got the bit between her teeth.
‘His poetry is so awful,’ explained Lady Susan, ‘that Cynthia’s offerings will come as a positive relief to the audience. There is nothing we can do about Lord Smedly-Fotherington, unfortunately,’ she said with a frown. ‘He is of noble birth, has long curly hair and has lately taken to dressing like a Turkish prince.’
‘But is his poetry any good?’
Lady Susan’s lip curled. ‘What does that matter? He out-Byron’s Byron.’
‘He is actually very accomplished,’ put in Julia.
‘And very vain.’
‘I promise,’ said Henrietta, feeling for the first time in days that she was no longer completely without value, or completely without friends, ‘that I shall not be in the slightest bit impressed by him.’
