Free Bething's Folly by Bárbara Metzger Page A

recounting some tale of his aunt’s pug. Milbrooke helped himself to another brandy and tried to catch his friend’s eye, but the Marquis merely went on with his story. Ferddie shrugged and sat down—it was still Carleton’s play—only to bounce up again when Miss Bethingame entered the room. This time she was charming in a plain muslin gown of light brown with orange ribbons, her hair simply caught back in a matching bow. Carleton took her hand and enquired about her headache, so Ferddie followed his lead with hopes that her good looks reflected her good health. Miss Bethingame coloured prettily, thanked her guests for their kindness and rang for tea before sitting down to discuss the gentlemen’s ride over.
    Lady Burke looked from Ferddie, nodding pleasantly, to Carleton, who was solemnly criticising the state of the roadways, to her perfectly lady-like niece, and told herself they were all candidates for Bedlam. She took another sip of her Madeira.
    When the possibilities for conversation about the roads and the pleasant weather had been exhausted, Carleton addressed Lady Burke again, with the same degree of polite formality, to express an invitation to her and her niece, on behalf of his aunt Sephrina, Margaret’s mother. There was to be another dance in honour of Margaret’s engagement a sennight hence, a small, neighbourly affair, and Carle Manor would be honoured to host the Bethingame ladies. “Oh, yes,” he concluded, “there will of course be card rooms for the nondancers in the party.”
    Elizabeth was undoubtedly going to refuse, Lady Burke knew, so she hastily accepted for them both. “How very kind of you. Elizabeth, dear, now you can wear the lovely lilac gown Ellie sent from London, can’t you? Oh, my, how kind of your aunt, Lord Carleton.” There was nothing for Elizabeth to do but acquiesce. She could not very well argue with her aunt in front of the gentlemen—her own ploy—nor could she express her opinion that Lord Carleton’s aunt was so far unaware of the gracious invitation. She could only credit the Marquis’s tactics, for whatever purpose he had in mind, knowing she had been skilfully manoeuvred Into another function she would have declined and more of the public scrutiny she deplored. She could not help but distrust the smile Carleton was giving her, it was too calculating, too sure of success. Well, she might have to attend Margaret’s party, but she did not have to dance with Margaret’s cousin! Pointedly ignoring the Marquis, she turned to Ferddie Milbrooke, asking if he was also going to attend, which was a mistake on her part. Ferddie asked her for the first dance, as she knew he would, but Carleton had taken the opportunity for further conversation with Lady Burke. When Elizabeth could politely finish the talk with Milbrooke, it was to see Carleton as pleased as a cat full of cream and her aunt beaming.
    “Elizabeth, you will never guess what a kind offer Lord Carleton has made! He has volunteered to teach you the waltz, to save us the bother and expense of hiring an instructor. Isn’t that delightful? I think so, Elizabeth, for I am assured all the young ladies waltz now, although in my day ... Well, I could not be more pleased, for to tell the truth I was meaning to talk to you about that very thing, Elizabeth. And, dear, I have invited Lord Carleton—and you, too, Lord Milbank—to tea tomorrow, for a lesson. Isn’t that fine, dear?”
    “That is Lord Milbrooke , Aunt Claudia, and, no, we have other plans for tomorrow afternoon, so we must regretfully decline my Lord’s kind offer.” Miss Bethingame was gritting her teeth over the polite phrases and glaring at her aunt. This was too much! Lady Burke, however, was never one for subtleties, especially when she saw her duties clearly and an object of desire in sight.
    “Oh, do we have plans for tomorrow, dear? Well, then the following day, Lord Carleton, Lord Milbrooke? And perhaps we might have time for a round or