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Authors: Duchess By Night
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playmate, would mean sending Eugenia away, to school or to a relative.
Parents of a properly brought up little gentlewoman would never al ow their daughter to visit Fonthil .
The idea of sending her away was impossible, and he shook it off. Stil it was a nagging thought. Eugenia was the dearest person in the world to him. Why was he raising her here? A better man would turn himself into a model of ethical standards, dismiss al his guests and half of the servants, and replace them with puritanical types with pinched noses and pure souls.
The problem was that he didnt value moral qualities as he should. In fact, he thought they were damned boring.
It was a conundrum and made him wish that Sal y hadnt died. If he had a good woman around Fonthil , it would al be easier.
Women were so good at lecturing. Sal y could lecture him into obedience, and he would complain to the fel ows behind her back, and that would be that.
The picture of English marriage.
The real problem was that he was free to please himself. Pleasure was vulgarand general y wickedbut so interesting.
As he entered his study, Povy came forward to give him his nightly report. Jem threw himself into an armchair and grateful y took the glass of wine handed him by a footman.
It was his indulgence and (if he admitted it) one of his passions. He drank sparingly. But he began most evenings with a smal glass of the very best wine. He raised an eyebrow at Povy.
A French claret from Bertin du Rocheret. I wil serve it with the beef. The menu tonight: turtle Madeira soup, fol owed by relevé de poisson , or salmon in champagne. To be fol owed by roast beef, lamp chops, capons with a béchamel sauce, and a plate of roast goslings with puréed apples.
Jem nodded.
Povy turned to another piece of foolscap, though he had it memorized. Some comments on a few guests. Mrs. Sandhurst left this morning, sending you her most fervent gratitude. She wished to speak to you herself, but I indicated that it wasnt possible.
Jem raised an eyebrow. And is she?
Indeed, I believe that she returns to London to seek consultation with an accoucheur; the child is hardly imminent, but natural y she wil need to inform Mr. Sandhurst of the event.
Or not, Jem said. Did she leave Troubridge behind?
Indeed, Povy said. Troubridge declared himself desolé , but he spent the day hunting with one of the Graces.
So far this sounds terribly tedious.
Povy turned the page. Miss Mol Davis and Mr. Cooling are practicing their performance of The Five Hours Adventure .
Monsieur Batelier, Sir Carteret, and Mr. Pedley stay on. He looked up. I believe that Sir Carteret may be drawing Mr. Pedley into an unlikely and improvident endeavor, something to do with the Committee of Tangier.
Hes of age, Jem said. Are the Oxford scholars stil here?
Yes, there was a most lively discussion of glass-making at breakfast, and then they al repaired to the dairy, which has been temporarily transformed into a glass-blowing studio. They are trying the effect of adding lead oxide in combination with a touch of copper. The Spanish ambassador was much taken by the idea, and has spent the day with them in the dairy, though he wil be at the Game tonight, of course.
Excel ent, Jem said, feeling a spark of interest. I shal stop by the creamery tomorrow.
As you know, the commissioner of the navy brought in three wagonloads of prize goods last week; the Duke of Wintersal wrote with the request that he bring the commissioner to the Game in the near future. I took the liberty of replying in the affirmative.
Good, Jem said. These days the Gamethe heart of his house partytended to populate itself.
Tonight is a simple dinner, with a mere thirty-three to sit, Povy said, turning the page. Your valet has laid out your flowered tabby vest and the coat with gold lace at the wrists.
That seems rather grand, Jem said, watching the wine swirl in his glass.
We have a duke and a duchess in the house, Povy said with mild reproach. Although
Parents of a properly brought up little gentlewoman would never al ow their daughter to visit Fonthil .
The idea of sending her away was impossible, and he shook it off. Stil it was a nagging thought. Eugenia was the dearest person in the world to him. Why was he raising her here? A better man would turn himself into a model of ethical standards, dismiss al his guests and half of the servants, and replace them with puritanical types with pinched noses and pure souls.
The problem was that he didnt value moral qualities as he should. In fact, he thought they were damned boring.
It was a conundrum and made him wish that Sal y hadnt died. If he had a good woman around Fonthil , it would al be easier.
Women were so good at lecturing. Sal y could lecture him into obedience, and he would complain to the fel ows behind her back, and that would be that.
The picture of English marriage.
The real problem was that he was free to please himself. Pleasure was vulgarand general y wickedbut so interesting.
As he entered his study, Povy came forward to give him his nightly report. Jem threw himself into an armchair and grateful y took the glass of wine handed him by a footman.
It was his indulgence and (if he admitted it) one of his passions. He drank sparingly. But he began most evenings with a smal glass of the very best wine. He raised an eyebrow at Povy.
A French claret from Bertin du Rocheret. I wil serve it with the beef. The menu tonight: turtle Madeira soup, fol owed by relevé de poisson , or salmon in champagne. To be fol owed by roast beef, lamp chops, capons with a béchamel sauce, and a plate of roast goslings with puréed apples.
Jem nodded.
Povy turned to another piece of foolscap, though he had it memorized. Some comments on a few guests. Mrs. Sandhurst left this morning, sending you her most fervent gratitude. She wished to speak to you herself, but I indicated that it wasnt possible.
Jem raised an eyebrow. And is she?
Indeed, I believe that she returns to London to seek consultation with an accoucheur; the child is hardly imminent, but natural y she wil need to inform Mr. Sandhurst of the event.
Or not, Jem said. Did she leave Troubridge behind?
Indeed, Povy said. Troubridge declared himself desolé , but he spent the day hunting with one of the Graces.
So far this sounds terribly tedious.
Povy turned the page. Miss Mol Davis and Mr. Cooling are practicing their performance of The Five Hours Adventure .
Monsieur Batelier, Sir Carteret, and Mr. Pedley stay on. He looked up. I believe that Sir Carteret may be drawing Mr. Pedley into an unlikely and improvident endeavor, something to do with the Committee of Tangier.
Hes of age, Jem said. Are the Oxford scholars stil here?
Yes, there was a most lively discussion of glass-making at breakfast, and then they al repaired to the dairy, which has been temporarily transformed into a glass-blowing studio. They are trying the effect of adding lead oxide in combination with a touch of copper. The Spanish ambassador was much taken by the idea, and has spent the day with them in the dairy, though he wil be at the Game tonight, of course.
Excel ent, Jem said, feeling a spark of interest. I shal stop by the creamery tomorrow.
As you know, the commissioner of the navy brought in three wagonloads of prize goods last week; the Duke of Wintersal wrote with the request that he bring the commissioner to the Game in the near future. I took the liberty of replying in the affirmative.
Good, Jem said. These days the Gamethe heart of his house partytended to populate itself.
Tonight is a simple dinner, with a mere thirty-three to sit, Povy said, turning the page. Your valet has laid out your flowered tabby vest and the coat with gold lace at the wrists.
That seems rather grand, Jem said, watching the wine swirl in his glass.
We have a duke and a duchess in the house, Povy said with mild reproach. Although
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