Lady Rose's Education by Kate Milliner Page A

indeed been resolved and the date set. They will be married early next year.”
    ”That is marvellous news! I can hardly believe it,” Lady Agatha chimed, and the other guests expressed similar emotion around the table. There was an eager consensus about the happy nature of the news, expressed through clinking of glasses and making of congratulatory toasts.
                 
    Lady Rose found it hard to join into the general merriment. She pronounced her happiness about Lady Letitia's good luck when asked, but her gaiety had vanished. Conversation flowed easily around her. She could feel it come and go in waves, but she concentrated on her plate and let herself be rocked into an angry lull, only now and again steeling glances at the brown-eyed gentleman several seats away.
    ”Are you not one for sweets, Lady Rose?” Mr. Perry asked.
    ”I peg you pardon?” Lady Rose said. She noticed the raspberry meringue pudding in front of her and slowly remembered her manners.
    ”Oh yes, thank you. Mrs. Baynes makes the most wonderful tarts.”
    She bit on a raspberry, which tasted sweet and bitter, as if the summer had been compressed into one tiny object.
    ”Mr. Perry, do you think it is possible to feel nostalgia for a moment which one is only just passing?” she asked wistfully.
    ”Yes, I do,” he said and looked at her intently.
    Lady Rose didn't notice it. Her senses were in sharp focus this evening, and she could only concentrate on the tingly sweet taste of berry in her mouth and a pair of eyes, which she was sure were making a play with her. She could feel their gaze brush her lightly and then leave her be, then brush her again and leave her again. She was alternating being in the spotlight and hiding in a dark corner, and each sensation was painful in its own way. Her face was burning red with the attention and wine.
    She tried her best to sustain a normal amount of conversation, until finally the business of eating the dessert was concluded and her agony could be over.
     
    When ladies retreated to the drawing room for coffee, Lady Rose lingered in the hall and finally had her chance.
    ”I hope you have enjoyed the food, Lady Rose,” Mr. Cowley said, ”and the company.”
    He raised his eyebrows conspiratorially, clearly referring to tedious Lord Ashbury.
    ”I hope you have enjoyed yours,” Lady Rose said, smiling.
    ”Oh, yes! Lady Agatha is a most passionate advocate of cool summer mornings, but not very keen on hot and humid days of the said season.”
    ”What about Lady Merton?”
    ”Lady Merton does not care for dusty roads. Or bees.”
    Lady Rose laughed and concentrated on the painting in front of her. She needed to steady her breathing. Somewhere near a candle had just gone out and a spiral of smoky scent lingered in the air.
    ”Devil is in the detail,” Mr. Cowley said.
    ”Pardon?” Lady Rose was caught off guard. Every time Mr. Cowley spoke to her, she felt he was presenting a challenge with his words. The challenge was: be wittier, be cleverer.
    ”In art,” Mr. Cowley said, gesturing with his hand at the rather green-toned rendering of a stormy sea, ”as in life, devil is in the detail.”
    ”That is very clever. Who has said it?”
    Some reason the comment made Mr. Cowley's eyes turn dark.
    ”Does everything have to be a quote from someone else? Is it not possible I might ever have something original to say?”
    He turned and stomped away.
    ”Mr. Cowley! I did not mean –” Lady Rose called after him, but he did not slow his pace.
    She was stricken. How could she have been so... but she didn't really understand, what had she been. Tactless? She hadn't said anything that wasn't in line with the bantery style they were using.
     
    Lady Rose found Mr. Cartwright, complained a headache and escaped to the privacy of her room.
    The Countess was left to make Lady Rose's excuses to the young gentlemen. She was not happy about this, but she comforted herself with the keenness of the said