“Mine,” Theo admitted. “I don’t think James wanted to, but I didn’t give him the chance to refuse. Besides, it is the perfect solution to the duke’s demand that he marry. He’s far too young, don’t you think, Mama? He’s not even twenty.”
“I don’t know about that,” her mother said. “In terms of maturity, he’s already at least a decade older than his father. And from what I hear, he’d better marry a girl with a fortune so that he can repair the estate once Ashbrook falls over in an apoplectic fit. I expect that’s why the duke is pushing him onto the market.”
“You’re always telling me not to make cutting remarks,” Theo said. “Just listen to yourself, Mama. Do I really have to wear these pearls? I detest pearls.”
“Young ladies wear pearls. What are you doing, darling?”
Theo looked up from her writing desk. “I’m amending my list. Just in case I ever get to dress as I wish.”
“Something about pearls?”
“Yes. I’ve added two rules in the last day or so. Pearls are for swine.”
“And debutantes,” her mother added. “What’s the other one?”
“You won’t like this one,” Theo observed. “Etonians merit consideration.”
“I don’t dislike it. But I think rank is a better judge of a man than education. Besides that, there are schools other than Eton, my dear.”
“Mama! This list has nothing to do with possible husbands; it only reflects how I shall dress when I have the chance to be myself. In short, once I am married. The Etonian morning coat is altogether delicious. I don’t care a bit about the bodies inside it, unless one of them is mine.”
“I hope I don’t live to see you dress like a schoolboy,” her mother said, shuddering visibly. “I don’t like to even imagine it.”
“Don’t you remember the hopeless adoration James had for the captain of the cricket team after his first term? There’s a great deal of glamour to be had by looking like a schoolboy, if I can figure out how to harness it. At least it would stop girls from being so blasted sympathetic about my profile.”
“Here is my advice,” her mother said, turning from the mirror. “Every time you detect even the faintest hint of sympathy from one of those empty-headed little chits, reach up and touch your grandmother’s pearls. You may detest them, Theodora, but they are worth as much as most girls’ dowries. There’s much to be said for unentailed personal property when it comes to attractiveness.”
“If I get near Geoffrey, I’ll be sure to direct his attention to them. Maybe I will draw the string through my teeth, just to make sure he sees it.” She came up behind her mother and gave her a hug. “I don’t know why I couldn’t have turned out to be as pretty as you are, Mama.”
“You are—”
Theo interrupted her. “Hush. I have a long nose and chin and I look remarkably mannish. But I can live with it, or at least, I could if I didn’t have to wear so many white ruffles that I look like a pail of foaming milk.”
Her mother smiled at her in the glass. “There isn’t a seventeen-year-old young lady in all London who doesn’t long to wear colors in the evening. It will happen soon enough.”
“Once I’m Lady Geoffrey Trevelyan,” Theo said with a giggle.
Four
Devonshire House
The Countess of Devonshire’s ball
When the ducal carriage drew up before Devonshire House, Theo hopped out after her mother, followed by an obedient, if morose, James. They all paused at the doorway to the ballroom for a good moment after they’d been announced, but to Theo’s disappointment, no one seemed to notice that she was accompanied by the most elusive matrimonial catch of the year.
Not that anyone would have thought there was a possibility of catching James until this very moment.
“A sad crush,” Mrs. Saxby said disapprovingly, surveying the floor. “The countess obviously did not prune the invitation list. I shall retire upstairs to play a round or two of piquet.”
This was a development that Theo had both hoped and planned for. “James will escort me home,” she said instantly. “I doubt he will agree to stay very long. We have to ease him into polite society.”
In fact, James had already begun tugging at his neck cloth. “It’s infernally hot in here. I shall remain a half hour at the most.”
Theo’s mother took one final look at the thronged room and departed for an upstairs sitting room, where she could play piquet with her friends all evening.
“Back up!” Theo hissed at James, as soon as her mother was well out of sight.
“What?”
Theo pulled him into the entrance hall. “Now that Mama’s gone, I need a moment.” She hauled him down the corridor and turned in at the first open door she saw, which turned out to be a nicely appointed sitting room with—thankfully—a glass over the mantelpiece. She removed her pearls and dropped them in James’s pocket.
“They will ruin the line of my coat,” he protested.
“As if you care! Mama says they are worth more than a dowry, so please endeavor not to lose them.”
He grimaced, but gave in. Then she gave the pink ruffle around her neckline a sharp tug and—as she had strategically loosened its stitches earlier that afternoon—it came obediently away from her gown.
“I say, what are you doing?” James asked, rather alarmed. “You can’t wear a bodice as low as that. You haven’t anything covering your—yourself.”
“Why can’t I? It’s not nearly as low as some women out there are wearing. And they have bosoms like ostrich eggs compared to mine. I don’t have much to show, so I might as well display what I have.”
“You are certainly doing that,” he said, his voice betraying a certain fascination.
Theo glanced up. “It’s just a bosom, James.”
He frowned, stepped back, and coughed.
“A very nice one, mind,” she said, giving him a naughty smile. “Definitely one of my better features.” With one tug, the pink ruffle was stripped off her left wrist, quickly followed by that on the right. Then she pulled the pins out of her carefully arranged curls and let her hair fall about her shoulders. Taking a band of copper-colored lace from her reticule, she wound it through her hair, pulled it back from her forehead, and secured it on top of her head with the pins so that it wouldn’t fall down. It formed a rather disheveled chignon, but the contrast between her hair and the copper lace was definitely interesting.
“You look different,” James said, narrowing his eyes at her reflection in the glass.
“I look better,” Theo told him, with the confidence of someone who had practiced hair-plus-lace twisting five times that afternoon. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
James was looking at her neckline again. “Who?”
“Geoffrey, of course!” Theo said. “Really, James, do try to keep up.” She glanced at herself in the glass. Without the horrid pink ruffles, her gown had a certain sophistication. Plus, her breasts did look delectable, if she said so herself.
“Oh! I forgot.” She dug in her reticule and pulled out a brooch that had also belonged to her grandmother but was far more evocative than the pearls. It was heavy gold, in the shape of a rose, with a garnet pendant dangling below.