Free Lady Susan Plays the Game by Janet Todd Page B

mother, though, are you, Sir James?’
    â€˜No, I am not,’ he said too loudly, then laughed again.
    â€˜And do you think Mary pretty?’ pursued Lady Susan.
    â€˜N-n-no, that is, not quite,’ he hesitated. ‘Not really, though I suppose she must be. But Mama always said a good wife need not be showy – she said “showy” – but simply modest, polite and … and thrifty.’
    As he spoke of Lady Martin, Lady Susan was almost sure that Sir James had again a moist eye, but it might have been from too much boisterous laughter.
    â€˜Your mother is a great loss to you, a great loss. And you must of course think of what she said. But perhaps for you it would be good if the girl you married happened to be pretty?’
    Just then Lady Susan looked across at her daughter, who, ignored by Mary, was sitting pensively, her dark hair making her flat moonface quite alluring in the candlelight. By exaggeratedly swivelling her own sympathetic eyes to rest on Frederica, she directed Sir James’s to the same spot, while she whispered to him that the dear girl was still grieving for her beloved father.
    She was pleased to see that his eyes, once directed, stayed on Frederica instead of moving back to Mary. She hoped Miss Manwaring did not notice this, but luckily the girl was in conversation with her aunt. She was being persuaded to go to the new Rolfe grand pianoforte to play and sing one of the fashionable Scottish folk songs that she’d brought back from London. She played well, if mechanically, and liked the sound of her own rather high-pitched voice; she had little spare attention to focus on other people in the room.
    While Mary sang and Lady Susan played on the young man beside her, hoping he would soon be caught by the glorious insipidity her daughter presented, she was acutely aware of another pair of eyes intently fixed on herself from the side of the room. From time to time, as her own swift glance took in the company, she caught these eyes through her own lashes.
    She enjoyed the sensation. She had quite decided that, if it were done discreetly, she would flirt with this man after all. There was something simple about him, a slightly bemused look in the eyes when not fixed on her. She would need to be careful; he might be reckless.
    She was much attracted to him, of course – who wouldn’t be? But she would not endanger her other plans or make trouble for herself within the house. Her new apartments were too much to her liking for that.
    Sir James was talking through Mary’s singing. ‘Shsh, Sir James,’ Lady Susan said as she put a finger on her lips. He smiled broadly and nodded. Then his eyes rested again on Frederica.
    She would have to manage everything. Occasionally, as now, Lady Susan wondered how Frederica could really be her daughter. She wasn’t like her in general looks or character. But she doubted the child was a changeling – she was far too good.
    She now saw that Frederica had not made a close friend of Mary, though they got on well enough. That was how it should be – it would be no good if the girls formed an alliance. As it was, all Lady Susan had to do was to keep Frederica looking nice and in public. The grey silk flowers that adorned her own bodice would probably become her daughter and must be sacrificed. She suspected she herself had no need of adornment just now.
    She got up hurriedly when the singing stopped, declaring she must take a turn round the room. Manwaring’s stare was too fixed and too open, as was Sir James’s on her daughter. She needed to teach both some subtlety.
    As the days passed Lady Susan continued to believe she was functioning perfectly, both in public and within the family. She praised Mary’s garish clothes and complimented Charlotte Manwaring on her new, more feminine style of hair, while noting to herself that it was thinning; to her cousin Miss Dawlish she spoke about culinary matters