Bath Scandal Read Free Page A

her ill, then she declines politely. She does not suggest an alternative. That is the hostess’s privilege.”
    Gillie listened patiently. “What do you suggest, then?”
    Mrs. Searle took a sip from her glass unconcernedly and said, “I suggest you wait till dinner, when wine will be served.”
    Gillie frowned. She fidgeted a moment, glanced at the clock, and said, “We usually have dinner at six at home.”
    “So I would assume. In the country one usually keeps country hours. I shall be serving at seven—a little early tonight, as I thought you might be peckish after your trip.”
    “I am starved!”
    “A lady is never starved. She is allowed to feel peckish—if she is asked.”
    “I expect you and Miss Swann were great friends,” Gillie said with a scowl.
    “Miss Swann? Who is that?”
    “Did Rawl not tell you? It was Deborah’s idea to send me to you.”
    “Deborah Swann! Good gracious, I haven’t heard that name for over a decade. We were at school together. Do you know Deborah Swann?”
    “Know her? She lives only a mile away. She is Rawl’s fiancée. It was her idea to pack me off here, to get rid of me.” Gillie failed to notice that her hostess’s face had stiffened to stone. She rattled on, “They tried to match me up with Lord Stuyvesant, as if I’d marry that old rake. He’s at least thirty!”
    “That old!” Mrs. Searle said in a chilly tone.
    “It seems ancient to me, for I am only seventeen.”
    “Time will rectify that. You are young to be looking about for a match yet,” Mrs. Searle said, though her quick mind was canvassing more interesting matters.
    “I don’t want to get married. It is all Miss Swann’s idea. She won’t have Rawl till I am out of the house, you see. We are forever coming to cuffs. It is her horrid way of calling me missie that gets my back up, and acting as if she were my mother, only my mama was never so horrid. I hate her.”
    “A young lady does not hate anyone, Lady Gillian,” she replied. Yet, if there were to be an exception to that rule, she would not hesitate to nominate Deborah Swann for the role. What a managing creature Deborah had been. And now she had nabbed Lord Southam! How could such a thing have happened?
    Gillian crossed her arms and glared. “Then I am not a lady, because I hate Deborah Swann.”
    “And she is actually engaged to your brother, you say. Formally engaged?” Mrs. Searle asked, wondering if it was only a straw in the wind.
    “Yes, she has the ring and everything. She is forever at the house, poking about and complaining to the servants and Rawl, as if she were already married to him.”
    Mrs. Searle digested this with no visible trace of her rancor. “I read some time ago that she was lady-in-waiting to the royal princesses.”
    “When she is not complaining, she is boasting of that. And of course her father, who is a member of the cabinet, only they won’t let him have a portfolio. I wonder he doesn’t buy one, since he is supposed to be well greased.”
    Lady Searle found a sudden interest in Miss Swann and did not discourage this line of complaints as she knew she ought. “As she is a near neighbor, I expect this match has been in the air since Deborah and your brother were youngsters.” It must have been arranged eons ago by the family. No sane man would willingly offer for Deborah Swann.
    “Not at all. It only happened this past year, when the royal princesses sent her home. She is the bossy sort who must be ordering someone around, and since Effie and Alice and I were without a mother, she decided to take us in charge. She convinced Rawl that we had run wild, and now she is engaged to him, but she won’t marry him till I am out of the house. And that is why she sent me to you, to smarten me up so Stuyvesant will have me.”
    “Why not London for a Season instead of here?”
    “Miss Swann feels the moral climate there is not salubrious. I expect that means she’s afraid Rawl will slip the leash.”
    Mrs.