Lady John by Madeleine E. Robins

Author:Madeleine E. Robins [Robins, Madeleine E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, Romance, Regency, Historical Fiction, Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780449502761
Google: 3WnvAAAACAAJ
Amazon: B008IVW5LA
Publisher: Book View Café
Published: 1982-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

If Olivia had, by a lucky stroke of fortune, missed the first announcement of Miss Casserley’s engagement to Menwin, she was not kept long in ignorance.

Arising early the morning after Lady Whelke’s party, she took her chocolate in bed, dressed, and wrote a few short notes which she had long meant to complete; finding that her mother was at last awake, she went to join her for breakfast. Mrs. Martingale was informed of the better part of the occurrences at Lady Whelke’s (although Olivia’s discussion with Lord Menwin was not disclosed), and the meal was enlivened by some cogent observations on the dress and manners of some of her fellow guests there. Mrs. Martingale tssked amiably at her daughter’s caricatures and began to shuffle through the cards of invitation, the letters, and the trades bills which had been brought in, together with the new issue of the Gazette. Mrs. Martingale happily gave the mail over for her daughter’s perusal and turned her own attention to the social news.

“Good heavens, Livvy, do look and see who is betrothed!” With the air of someone sharing a great joke, Mrs. Martingale offered the paper to her child, indicating the item of interest by the placement of her thumb.

BETROTHAL. An engagement has been contracted between Jane Alicia, daughter of Frederick Casserley, third Baron Whelke; and Matthew Arringfield Polry, Viscount Menwin, heir of the Earl of Mardries.

The variety of feelings which Olivia experienced between the first word and the last of that short paragraph culminated in one simple and very emphatic sentiment: rage.

Mrs. Martingale, still chuckling as if the betrothal were a very good joke indeed, went on to the court news, and was astounded to hear her daughter exclaim, some minutes later: “That unutterable beast!”

“O-livia! Who on earth can you be speaking of?”

“That odious loose-screw! That toad-eating, impossible queer nabs! That insufferable, horrible blackguard! That he could have the unspeakable effrontery to be angry with me, and then cry friends, when all the while—Ooooooh!” Having run out of such expletives as a young lady could decently use in the company of her mother, Lady John gave vent to a part of her anger by throwing the sofa cushions, one by one, at the opposite wall. Her teacup followed. Then, having exorcised her devil, at least temporarily, she sat absolutely still, trembling a little. Her mother became fearful, seeing the strange color in her daughter’s cheek and the militant look in her eye.

“May I know what has you so overset, dearest?” Mrs. Martingale asked at last, in the most timid of voices.

As if called from some great distance Olivia turned to look at her mother. Gradually some of the anger seeped away, and she saw only her mother’s plump, anxious face, round and bewildered and framed by the crumpled lace of her cap and negligee.

“I’m sorry, Mamma. You could not possibly have known of it.”

“Certainly not, precious,” Mrs. Martingale soothed, drawing her more tractable child close to her and smoothing the ruddy curls under her hand.

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