bonfire.
Those of Lady Mays’s guests who had expected to find changes made at Mays House were disappointed. Nothing had been reordered or removed, even down to the portrait of Lady Mays herself that was hung in the dining room.
During and after the supper, there was much comment on the portrait. Some ladies wondered that Lady Mays could have kept it on display when it must surely remind her of a painful part of her life. Others thought that she must be very arrogant to keep it up. Inevitably, though, the majority made comparisons between the portrait and the living subject. On the whole, it was generally felt that Lady Mays had preserved very well. She still looked very much like the debutante who three years before had made the marriage of the Season.
“Not a blemish or wrinkle on her,” said one lady to another on an envious note. “What nonsense that she had lost her looks and Mays rid himself of her for that reason. There is the proof against it!” The ladies had been upstairs to refresh themselves and had passed the open door of the dining room, where they had had a good view of the portrait, before they reentered the ballroom.
“Then it could only have been over his mistress. What a little fool she was to think it mattered when she had all of this!” exclaimed another lady, looking about her at the priceless objets d’art and expensive furnishings and carpets.
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have liked it if my husband had flaunted his mistress over me. I would certainly have objected,” said Lady Thorpe. She was a petite redhead, known as much for her sense of fun as her absolute devotion to her husband.
Lady Thorpe’s two companions tittered. One worldly matron tossed her head. “Oh you, Cecily! You’ve been wed but a sixmonth, and Gerald is besotted with you still. What would you know of the matter?”
“Nothing at all, and I hope that I never shall,” said Lady Thorpe spiritedly.
The other two ladies turned their shoulders and pointedly wandered off, putting their heads together to laugh over Lady Thorpe’s extraordinary naiveté. A particularly condescending statement floated back to her ladyship’s ears. “Give Cecily a year or two and then we shall see how high she is on that husband of hers!”
Lady Thorpe fumed at such turkish treatment. “How dare they say such things! Of me or Lady Mays!” It was simply not to be borne.
On the inspiration of her anger, Lady Thorpe looked around for her hostess. As soon as she spied Lady Mays, she approached her. Nodding to Lady Mays and another lady who had engaged her ladyship in conversation, Lady Thorpe waited until the other lady had finished and moved away.
Lady Thorpe smiled almost shyly up at her tall hostess. “Lady Mays, I wished to tell you how honored my husband, Lord Thorpe, and I are to have received your kind invitation.”
“Thank you, Lady Thorpe. I hope that you continue to enjoy yourself,” said Lucinda, smiling politely.
When making out her guest list, Lucinda had consulted Lord Mays as to whether there was anyone in particular he would like her to include. She had insisted upon deferring to his lordship in this small way, for she was truly grateful that he had lent her Mays House without question. Lord Mays had been gratified and had supplied her with a few names. The Thorpes had consequently received their invitation to the supper and ball because they were particular friends of Lord Mays.
Lucinda had thought the Thorpes to be a pleasant couple when she had met them and had thereafter very nearly forgotten their existence. She knew that the youthful couple were not so much her junior in years, but she felt worlds apart from them in experience. Theirs had apparently been a fairytale romance, their attachment having been formed at first sight and their marriage taking place a scarce six months later.
“Mays House is wonderfully appointed. I do not believe I have ever seen so many beautiful objects in one place in my
Those of Lady Mays’s guests who had expected to find changes made at Mays House were disappointed. Nothing had been reordered or removed, even down to the portrait of Lady Mays herself that was hung in the dining room.
During and after the supper, there was much comment on the portrait. Some ladies wondered that Lady Mays could have kept it on display when it must surely remind her of a painful part of her life. Others thought that she must be very arrogant to keep it up. Inevitably, though, the majority made comparisons between the portrait and the living subject. On the whole, it was generally felt that Lady Mays had preserved very well. She still looked very much like the debutante who three years before had made the marriage of the Season.
“Not a blemish or wrinkle on her,” said one lady to another on an envious note. “What nonsense that she had lost her looks and Mays rid himself of her for that reason. There is the proof against it!” The ladies had been upstairs to refresh themselves and had passed the open door of the dining room, where they had had a good view of the portrait, before they reentered the ballroom.
“Then it could only have been over his mistress. What a little fool she was to think it mattered when she had all of this!” exclaimed another lady, looking about her at the priceless objets d’art and expensive furnishings and carpets.
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have liked it if my husband had flaunted his mistress over me. I would certainly have objected,” said Lady Thorpe. She was a petite redhead, known as much for her sense of fun as her absolute devotion to her husband.
Lady Thorpe’s two companions tittered. One worldly matron tossed her head. “Oh you, Cecily! You’ve been wed but a sixmonth, and Gerald is besotted with you still. What would you know of the matter?”
“Nothing at all, and I hope that I never shall,” said Lady Thorpe spiritedly.
The other two ladies turned their shoulders and pointedly wandered off, putting their heads together to laugh over Lady Thorpe’s extraordinary naiveté. A particularly condescending statement floated back to her ladyship’s ears. “Give Cecily a year or two and then we shall see how high she is on that husband of hers!”
Lady Thorpe fumed at such turkish treatment. “How dare they say such things! Of me or Lady Mays!” It was simply not to be borne.
On the inspiration of her anger, Lady Thorpe looked around for her hostess. As soon as she spied Lady Mays, she approached her. Nodding to Lady Mays and another lady who had engaged her ladyship in conversation, Lady Thorpe waited until the other lady had finished and moved away.
Lady Thorpe smiled almost shyly up at her tall hostess. “Lady Mays, I wished to tell you how honored my husband, Lord Thorpe, and I are to have received your kind invitation.”
“Thank you, Lady Thorpe. I hope that you continue to enjoy yourself,” said Lucinda, smiling politely.
When making out her guest list, Lucinda had consulted Lord Mays as to whether there was anyone in particular he would like her to include. She had insisted upon deferring to his lordship in this small way, for she was truly grateful that he had lent her Mays House without question. Lord Mays had been gratified and had supplied her with a few names. The Thorpes had consequently received their invitation to the supper and ball because they were particular friends of Lord Mays.
Lucinda had thought the Thorpes to be a pleasant couple when she had met them and had thereafter very nearly forgotten their existence. She knew that the youthful couple were not so much her junior in years, but she felt worlds apart from them in experience. Theirs had apparently been a fairytale romance, their attachment having been formed at first sight and their marriage taking place a scarce six months later.
“Mays House is wonderfully appointed. I do not believe I have ever seen so many beautiful objects in one place in my
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