Amy Lake by Lady Reggieand the Viscount Page A

recent of which had bordered on the scandalous, and Lord Davies was not so sure of his own charms that he did not wonder—why?
    Why would a young woman of good breeding and sense throw herself at his feet?  The suggestions made at White’s still rankled; he turned them over and over in his head.  Lady Regina’s brother wished to marry the daughter of the Duke of Wenrich.  The duke was in dun territory, and was having none of Lord Wilfred’s suit.  The Knowles’s fortune was not in quite so reduced as that of his grace, but the family would certainly benefit from association with a young man of substantial wealth—
    At his side.  And in his bed.
    Gods.
    Did she really find him so attractive?  Or was her interest piqued by something considerably less romantic?
    The Viscount of Cardingham, for all that he had discovered of Lady Regina, did not yet know her at all.
     

Chapter 15: What do Gentlemen Want?
     
    Miss Barre was nearly agog. 
    “And then what?” she asked, her eyes wide. 
    We were sitting in the music room at Roselay once again.  I had played Mozart sonatas for hours that morning, trying to calm myself.  Without much success, I should add.
    “I think he was attempting to undo the buttons of my gown.  Well, of your gown, actually.”
    I did not add that he had succeeded with the top button, a condition I did not discover until I had returned to my bedroom.  If either the countess or Lady Davies had noticed this, they made no mention.
    Although, really, what could one say? 
    Regina, darling, I believe you are half out of your dress.
    ’Twas only one button, I reminded myself.
    “Oh!” said Cassie.  “How marvelous!”
    I wasn’t so sure.  “He seemed almost . . . angry,” I told her.
    “Good heavens, why?”
    “I have no idea.”
    And yet, I did.  What if—I had told myself, in the sleepless hours of the previous night—what if he was being pressured by his family to show interest in me, and marry me, only he really had taken me in dislike?  Wouldn’t that be enough to make anyone angry?
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Miss Barre, when I had explained this train of thought.  “You do him an injustice.”
    “Can a gentleman feign such interest, do you think?”
    “I shouldn’t think so.  Could you?”
    * * * *
     
    Men, of course, were a topic of much discussion among all the young ladies of our immediate circle.  What did they think?  What did they really want?  Later that day Miss Barre and I met Amelia Hingham and Lady Helen at Mr Wright’s circulating library on the Strand, and a whispered conversation ensued.
    “To bed us,” Lady Helen declared, flatly.  “And little else.”
    “Helen!” said Miss Hingham, colouring pink.
    “I’m quite serious.  They have their clubs for talk, and boxing for amusement, and their ridiculous high-perch phaetons for a run in the park.  What do they need us for?”
    “Well—children.”
    “Exactly my point.”
    “And an orderly household.”
    “Any housekeeper worth her salt will do that.  Look at Lord Pratt.  Widowed for twenty years, and Mrs Edgecomb organizes him perfectly well.”
    “But,” said Amelia, who was blushing madly and evidently bracing herself to say something quite shocking, “they have mistresses for . . . such things.”
    “Mistresses are out of fashion,” declared Lady Helen.
    We were all thoughtful at this.  Such women were beyond our ken, and we all wondered if we had ever seen one, or if we would know it if we did.
    “Gentlemen cannot want to converse only with each other,” said Cassandra, finally.  “’Twould be tiresome.”
    “And what do we talk about that is so absorbing?  Hats?”
    “Lud, Helen, we’re not so hopeless,” said Amelia.  “Reggie is always going on about the Congress of Vienna or some such.”
    “And bringing down the countess’s wrath for my trouble,” I admitted.
    “You,” said Lady Helen, “are the exception that proves the rule.”
    The proctor