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“Of course, an aberration like you, Miss Garrett, would think of nothing more than violence and mayhem,” Lady Margaret said with that arrogant smile of hers that said she thought she was finer than frog hair split four ways.

Well, as far as Ellen was concerned, two could play at that game.

She put on her very best front parlor smile and replied sweetly, “I would think that London society would enjoy a little violence and mayhem now and again, Lady Margaret. Variety is the spice of life, after all, and I have rarely seen anything in my time here so far that has even a little bit of flavor to it.”

Lady Margaret’s superior smile faltered as she tried to make sense of Ellen’s words. It was true that the insult was a bit obtuse, but she didn’t want to flatten Lady Margaret and her friends entirely, she just wanted to prove that she could give as good as she got.

A beat of silence followed before Lady Margaret turned her attention away from Ellen entirely and smiled flirtatiously at Joseph. “Mr. Rathborne-Paxton, you are looking quite well this morning. Is Mr. Rathborne-Paxton not looking well this morning?” Lady Margaret asked over her shoulder to her friends.

Lady Millicent Voight and Lady Prudence Fordham were two of the most insipid ladies in all of London. They followed Lady Margaret around as though she had them on a leash. The only thing the two women had going for them, as far as Ellen was concerned, was that they were both exceedingly beautiful. Which gave Ellen the feeling even more that Lady Margaret wore them like pretty earbobs to accentuate her own beauty.

Which was, perhaps, why she was a bit annoyed when Joseph nodded graciously to all three women and greeted them gallantly. “Lady Margaret, Lady Millicent, Lady Prudence. What brings you out to St. James’s Park this morning?”

Ellen knew it was mere politeness, but that politeness put her on edge. Joseph was her man and no one else’s. The way her three foes looked him up and down, as though he were a prize steer, didn’t sit well with her.

“We were just out delivering invitations to my step-mother’s ball in a fortnight,” Lady Margaret answered for all three of them. “It promises to be the grandest social event of the entire autumn. Why, the duchess has engaged a small orchestra all the way from Paris, she has hired extra kitchen staff to prepare the most sumptuous delicacies for the refreshment room, and do not reveal that I have shared this with you,” she went on, leaning closer to Joseph and lowering her voice to a whisper, “but she may even have engaged a famous Italian soprano to serenade our guests as well.”

“Is that so?” Joseph asked, still smiling politely.

Ellen did her very best to continue to smile and look only mildly interested. Inside, she was fuming. She knew precisely what game Lady Margaret was playing. The woman’s bragging was the same as the sort of nonsense the Bonneville sisters got up to when they wanted to make themselves feel better than everyone else. In that respect, the elite, titled ladies of London were no different than the old maids of Haskell, Wyoming.

What made Ellen anxious, however, was the fact that women like Lady Margaret had more power than was good for them.

“I trust that you have received your invitation to the duchess’s ball, Mr. Rathborne-Paxton,” Lady Margaret went on, smiling fetchingly at Joseph.

Joseph shifted a bit. Ellen still held his arm, since he’d been about to escort her on a walk, so she felt the tension that coursed through him.

“I have not received an invitation as of yet,” he said. “My mother and aunt were discussing the ball just this morning, however. I have hope that they will receive an invitation, but balls hold only a passing interest for me.”

Ellen wanted to grin and gloat at that comment. That should set Lady Margaret in her place, even if Joseph was merely being honest about not liking balls.

“What is this?” Lady Margaret reeled back in shock, placing a hand on her chest—which drew attention to her bosom, even though it was hidden behind her coat. “How can you say you do not like balls?”

Joseph tensed a bit more before saying, “I find the crush of so many people to be…unnerving.”

Lady Margaret laughed and reached out her hand to swat Joseph’s arm playfully—ignoring the fact that Ellen held his other arm entirely. “Oh, Mr. Rathborne-Paxton. We must cure you of this bashfulness you possess. Come to the ball and you will see just how delightful company can be.”

Joseph opened his mouth, and for one, shining moment, Ellen thought he would tell Lady Margaret off.

But instead, he said, “We shall see. I have yet to receive an invitation.”

“I shall make certain the duchess sends you one,” Lady Margaret said, sending Joseph a particularly flirtatious look.

“And Lady Vegas and Lady Dorrington,” Ellen added. “They are the ones who truly wish to attend the ball.”

And Ellen herself. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she craved an invitation to the Duchess of Westminster’s ball. Everyone truly would be there, and if she had any hope of being accepted in London society, she needed to be there as well. Though Joseph’s mother and aunt came first.

Lady Margaret glanced briefly to Ellen, her smile turning into a sour sneer. She seemed to dismiss Ellen again and glanced back to Joseph. “Until we meet again, Mr. Rathborne-Paxton,” she said with a flutter of her eyelashes, then turned to walk off, gesturing for her minions to come with her.

Ellen watched the arrogant chit walk away, her insides battling between fury and misery.

“That was strange and, I daresay, a bit rude,” Joseph commented with a frown.

Ellen balled her free hand into a fist, but when she turned to Joseph, she couldn’t hold onto her anger. Joseph wore a genuinely perplexed look, as though he truly didn’t understand the interaction that had just taken place. Ellen’s heart filled with sympathy for him. Men truly didn’t have the first idea of the undercurrents pulsing through the world of feminine interactions.

“Lady Margaret has very particular ideas of herself and her worth,” Ellen said with a sigh, searching the edge of the park for Lenore.

Her sister hadn’t run after her when Ellen had broken away. Ellen spotted the reason why when she found Lenore in conversation with one of her friends, Mrs. Phoebe Long. There was some sort of delicious, scandalous story about how Mrs. Long had married a low-born man, Mr. Danny Long, who just happened to also be one of the wealthiest men in London. Speculators often wondered who was the wealthier of the two, Mr. Long or Lady Margaret’s father, the Duke of Westminster. Ironically, both men had made their fortunes in the same way, through land development and building schemes.


Tags: Merry Farmer Historical