Read Online Rules for Being a Mistress by Tamara Lejeune - Free Book Online
Authors: Tamara Lejeune
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said. “His lordship has asked that I add the waltz to the dance program! A waltz, in the Upper Rooms!”
“Scandalous,” Lady Dalrymple barked. “It will never catch on!”
“The waltz is danced in London, even at Almack’s,” said Benedict. “For myself, I prefer it to the cotillion. It is easier to remember three steps than a thousand, and, best of all, it only lasts a few minutes. One can endure anything for five minutes, I think. The cotillion is half an hour at least. Too long!”
Mr. King’s eyes popped. “But the waltz, Sir Benedict, is fast! ”
“It is certainly brief,” Benedict agreed. “That is what I like about it.”
“But the lady is carried about the room, as if by storm, in the male embrace!” protested Mr. King. “Whenever I think of it, I am reminded of the Rape of the Sabine Women.”
Benedict arched his brows. “In that case, I hope you do not think of it often, Mr. King.”
“My dear Lady Dalrymple,” said Mr. King, turning to that lady with an unctuous smile. “Rest assured there will be no waltzing in the Upper Rooms. I do hope that you and your amiable daughter will be with us at Thursday’s assembly. Miss Carteret is a great favorite with the gentlemen. They would all want to dance with her, I am persuaded, if she did attend.”
“Of course,” the mama assured him.
“And, if I could persuade you to chaperone your young friend, Miss Vaughn?” he went on smoothly. “As you know, Lady Agatha is too ill to attend parties and assemblies. On Monday, at the dress ball, all I heard from the gentlemen was ‘Where is Miss Vaughn?’”
Lady Dalrymple said frostily, “Miss Vaughn? I do not know a Miss Vaughn.”
Mr. King was startled. “But—but I had thought your ladyship and Lady Agatha Vaughn were the dearest of friends!”
“Oh, those Vaughns,” her ladyship sniffed. “We were obliged to stay with them in Ireland last summer, when I turned my ankle and could not move for a month. Unfortunately, the poor, desperate creatures followed us here, Mr. King. I am sorry to hear that Miss Vaughn has been so unprincipled as to drop my name. She means to advance herself in society, I collect.”
Mr. King was distressed. “That is most unfortunate, my lady. Lord Ludham has begged me to present him to Miss Vaughn as a desirable partner.”
Lady Dalrymple became shrill. “Miss Vaughn is not a fit partner for Lord Ludham or anyone else! Miss Vaughn is a penniless Irish upstart. I would not do his lordship the disservice of presenting him to such a person. Millicent has twenty thousand pounds, and she is quite as handsome as Miss Vaughn.”
Benedict suddenly smelled a strong odor of tobacco and perfume. In the next moment, the Honorable Mr. Roger Fitzwilliam was bearing down on them. Lady Dalrymple suddenly remembered that she needed to change a book in Meyler’s Library. Snapping her fingers for her footman, she departed, dragging Millicent with her.
“Mr. Fitzwilliam is a younger son,” she explained to her child when they were safely away. “We are not quite desperate just yet, I think. We have a little money left.”
“There goes Miss Carteret and her twenty thousand pounds,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said wistfully. “She’s a bit long in the tooth to be turning her nose up at you, Sir Benedict.”
“Excuse me,” Benedict said coldly, and walked away.
Fitzwilliam fell into step with him. “You’re welcome to Miss Carteret,” he said generously, “for I have found something better. Lady Serena Calverstock is no longer young, but she’s a damned fine female all the same. I don’t mind mutton, if there’s no lamb to be had. King has promised to present me at the cotillion tomorrow. You do not dance the cotillion, I collect?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” said Benedict, bristling. “I am not an invalid.”
Fitzwilliam frowned. “You wouldn’t poach, would you? I saw Lady Serena first. She’s ripe for the plucking, too! Now that her sister, Lady Redfylde, is
“Scandalous,” Lady Dalrymple barked. “It will never catch on!”
“The waltz is danced in London, even at Almack’s,” said Benedict. “For myself, I prefer it to the cotillion. It is easier to remember three steps than a thousand, and, best of all, it only lasts a few minutes. One can endure anything for five minutes, I think. The cotillion is half an hour at least. Too long!”
Mr. King’s eyes popped. “But the waltz, Sir Benedict, is fast! ”
“It is certainly brief,” Benedict agreed. “That is what I like about it.”
“But the lady is carried about the room, as if by storm, in the male embrace!” protested Mr. King. “Whenever I think of it, I am reminded of the Rape of the Sabine Women.”
Benedict arched his brows. “In that case, I hope you do not think of it often, Mr. King.”
“My dear Lady Dalrymple,” said Mr. King, turning to that lady with an unctuous smile. “Rest assured there will be no waltzing in the Upper Rooms. I do hope that you and your amiable daughter will be with us at Thursday’s assembly. Miss Carteret is a great favorite with the gentlemen. They would all want to dance with her, I am persuaded, if she did attend.”
“Of course,” the mama assured him.
“And, if I could persuade you to chaperone your young friend, Miss Vaughn?” he went on smoothly. “As you know, Lady Agatha is too ill to attend parties and assemblies. On Monday, at the dress ball, all I heard from the gentlemen was ‘Where is Miss Vaughn?’”
Lady Dalrymple said frostily, “Miss Vaughn? I do not know a Miss Vaughn.”
Mr. King was startled. “But—but I had thought your ladyship and Lady Agatha Vaughn were the dearest of friends!”
“Oh, those Vaughns,” her ladyship sniffed. “We were obliged to stay with them in Ireland last summer, when I turned my ankle and could not move for a month. Unfortunately, the poor, desperate creatures followed us here, Mr. King. I am sorry to hear that Miss Vaughn has been so unprincipled as to drop my name. She means to advance herself in society, I collect.”
Mr. King was distressed. “That is most unfortunate, my lady. Lord Ludham has begged me to present him to Miss Vaughn as a desirable partner.”
Lady Dalrymple became shrill. “Miss Vaughn is not a fit partner for Lord Ludham or anyone else! Miss Vaughn is a penniless Irish upstart. I would not do his lordship the disservice of presenting him to such a person. Millicent has twenty thousand pounds, and she is quite as handsome as Miss Vaughn.”
Benedict suddenly smelled a strong odor of tobacco and perfume. In the next moment, the Honorable Mr. Roger Fitzwilliam was bearing down on them. Lady Dalrymple suddenly remembered that she needed to change a book in Meyler’s Library. Snapping her fingers for her footman, she departed, dragging Millicent with her.
“Mr. Fitzwilliam is a younger son,” she explained to her child when they were safely away. “We are not quite desperate just yet, I think. We have a little money left.”
“There goes Miss Carteret and her twenty thousand pounds,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said wistfully. “She’s a bit long in the tooth to be turning her nose up at you, Sir Benedict.”
“Excuse me,” Benedict said coldly, and walked away.
Fitzwilliam fell into step with him. “You’re welcome to Miss Carteret,” he said generously, “for I have found something better. Lady Serena Calverstock is no longer young, but she’s a damned fine female all the same. I don’t mind mutton, if there’s no lamb to be had. King has promised to present me at the cotillion tomorrow. You do not dance the cotillion, I collect?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” said Benedict, bristling. “I am not an invalid.”
Fitzwilliam frowned. “You wouldn’t poach, would you? I saw Lady Serena first. She’s ripe for the plucking, too! Now that her sister, Lady Redfylde, is
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