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Chapter Seven
Patricia walked into the drawing room, nervously smoothing out the creases in her gown. She knew there was likely none. Her mother had supervised the laundry maid with an eagle eye as she had ironed it. But it was something to do with her hands, while she waited on tenterhooks, to see if Lord Cardigan would actually call today.
Margaret was sitting at the pianoforte, idly tinkling away at the keys. Patricia stopped for a moment, watching her sister, her heart softening. Margaret’s fair hair was hanging in soft curls down her back, tied with blue silk ribbons. Her gown was the prettiest shade of cornflower blue, falling an inch above her ankles so that her feet were exposed. She was not yet old enough to drop her hems. That would happen just before her debut.
Her sister looked so young and innocent that Patricia’s breath caught in her throat. Margaret could be twelve years old sitting there, rather than sixteen. Her whole life was ahead of her. And she must keep reminding herself that she was doing this for her sister’s sake as well as her own. To secure her future so that perhaps one day Margaretcouldmarry for love.
Her sister abruptly stopped playing and gazed at her.
“How pretty you look, Patricia,” she breathed, her eyes shining. “Is there something special you are attending today?”
Patricia walked further into the room, standing near the pianoforte. She smiled. “No, dearest. But I might have a gentleman caller, and Mama wants me to look my best.”
Margaret nodded. “What is his name? Do you like him a lot?”
Patricia took a deep breath. “His name is Lord Archibald Cardigan. He is handsome and wealthy and has fine homes, in the city and the country…”
Margaret’s nose wrinkled. “But do youlikehim, Patricia?”
Patricia hesitated. “I hardly know yet, dearest. I only just met him. But he is a fine lord, and I am hoping that we shall get along well.”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “It sounds so insufferably dull! I declare I do not like the sound of gentleman callers at all. Can I not just stay at home after my debut and not bother with any of it?”
Patricia sighed. Her sister had no idea that both their dowries were all but gone now. She hadn’t confided in her about what she had overheard when their parents had been bitterly fighting that day. And she knew her mother was trying to shield her from the truth as well.
“You shall think differently when you are older, dearest,” said Patricia slowly. “Once a young lady matures and takes her place in society, her mind must turn to such matters. You cannot stay at home forever, Margaret.”
“Why not?” Her sister challenged, wrinkling her nose. “Great Aunt Violet is unmarried. And she seems perfectly happy to me, even if she is a bit doddering.”
Patricia laughed. “Mama told me that Great Aunt Violet never married because she had no offers. It was not through choice, dearest. No lady desires to be a spinster, burdening her family.” She paused, gazing at her sister curiously. “Have you never thought you might have children one day? A family of your own?”
Margaret shrugged. “I have never given it much thought, Patricia. As long as I have my pianoforte and my books, I declare I am perfectly happy.”
Patricia nodded, not knowing what to say. Margaret was so very young; she had not even debuted yet. She would surely change her mind about such matters as she got older, but the thought struck her forcibly that she might be sacrificing herself for nothing. If Margaret never desired to marry, why should she settle for a loveless match?
She exhaled slowly. Margaretwasyoung. She would change her mind and securing a wealthy match would give her options. Besides, she still had herself to think about. She didn’t want to live in virtual penury even if she was head over heels in love with the gentleman. Much better to secure a wealthy match all round.
Suddenly, their mother flew into the room. She looked flustered.
“Come along, Margaret,” she said quickly. “Patricia’s gentleman caller has arrived, and you must make yourself scarce, my girl.”
Patricia swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “Lord Cardigan is here?”
Lady Hunter nodded quickly. “He is. I just saw his carriage pull up outside.” She cast a quick eye over Patricia. “Spin around, dearest.”
Patricia twirled. Lady Hunter nodded. “You shall do.” She turned to Margaret, her eyes spitting like a cat’s. “Now, out, young lady!”
Margaret grumbled under her breath but did as she was told. Lady Hunter walked to the middle of the room, standing beside Patricia.
“Remember to keep smiling,” she whispered. “A gentleman always likes a lady to smile. You shall do well to remember it.” She paused. “Oh, and do not prattle on as you tend to do, Patricia. Let him speak. A gentleman likes to be the center of attention, as well.”
“You shan’t leave me?” There was an edge of panic in Patricia’s voice.
“Of course not,” whispered her mother. “I must chaperone.” She paused, raising her chin slightly. “Not yet at least. Not until I get a measure of the man.”
Patricia’s eyes widened. Had her genteel mama just declared that she would turn a blind eye to her being alone with a gentleman if needed?
But before she could ponder that thought, the butler walked in.
