Today's Reading
He was also a very different species of gentleman than Diana had ever before met. Her husband had not been a fixture of London society and had ignored it as determinedly as it ignored him. Even though Whitley House was on the outskirts of town and only a short drive from its myriad entertainments, Diana could count on one hand the number of times she'd been there. Her husband was a quiet, serious, unsociable man, and thus Diana had been forced to live that way as well.
Mr. Boyle had certainly never flirted with her, as Lord Jerome was attempting to do, though Diana responded to many of Lord Jerome's overtures with blank stares and silence. It didn't help that his most outrageous compliments were punctuated by snorts of derision from Mr. Pryce, who spent much of the meal shooting murderous glances at Lord Jerome, interspersed with admiring ones directed at both Diana and her home.
Diana was totally at a loss as to how she'd come to the notice of two of London society's fashionable fribbles. For even though Mr. Pryce was far less sophisticated than Lord Jerome, it was obvious by their familiarity with each other and from Mr. Pryce's clothing, as rumpled as it was, that he was also an inhabitant of that elite sphere.
However, she was not so ignorant as to why they were there. While Lord Jerome was much more subtle and did not glance around the room with covetous eyes, instead saving such looks entirely for her person, he had betrayed himself when he had first arrived and directed an appraising look at Mildred, before realizing his mistake.
Both gentlemen were obviously fortune hunters, there on purpose to court a wealthy widow. But how had they even learned of her existence?
Lord Jerome had also claimed, as Mr. Pryce did, to be acquainted with a relative of Mr. Boyle's, but he had had the good sense to say this person's surname was Boyle as well. There were many branches of the Boyle family, as Diana had good reason to know, as she also had been a Boyle before her marriage to her distant cousin. It could even be that Lord Jerome was acquainted with a relation of theirs, but Diana found it entirely too coincidental that a chance meeting with a distant relative would spark within both Mr. Pryce and Lord Jerome a desire to call upon her, and on the very same day.
She noticed that Godfrey also appeared perplexed and was watching both men with a furrowed brow, although he directed the serving of dinner in his usual manner, as if it were a chore that was beneath him. Toward the end of the meal, however, while he was removing Diana's plate, he said in a lowered tone, "I have taken the liberty of bringing a bottle of port up from the cellar, ma'am, in anticipation of your wishes."
Diana could only conclude from this statement that he intended to serve after-dinner drinks to her unwelcome guests and wondered why he wished to prolong their visit. But since she knew her butler to be far more au courant than she was, she was not in the least affronted that he'd dropped a hint as to what behavior was expected of her. After all the plates had been removed, she stood up from the table and said: "Miss Boyle and I will retire to the drawing room, but Mr. Pryce and Lord Jerome, do not feel you must join us immediately. We will leave you gentlemen to your port."
Before the men could think of protesting, though it was unlikely that they would have, Godfrey was serving them their drinks and the ladies had left the room.
* * *
"You dastard!" Mr. Pryce said indignantly to Lord Jerome as soon as the door had shut behind Diana.
"Exactly what dastardly behavior on my part are you complaining of?" Lord Jerome asked, though he seemed more interested in watching his port as he swirled it around in his glass than in anything his companion had to say.
"You know perfectly well! You've come to court Mrs. Boyle merely because she's a rich widow."
"Mister Pot, meet Lord Kettle," Lord Jerome said, nodding his head at Mr. Pryce in a mock bow.
Mr. Pryce looked flummoxed for a moment, and then his brow cleared in comprehension. "It's just—I thought everyone else would begin with the A's, and if I skipped to the B's that I'd have the field all to myself. And she's in Twickenham, not in London proper. Didn't expect anyone would want to come all this way."
"Twickenham isn't exactly Timbuktu. That was actually a point in her favor, in my opinion; she has a country house that isn't actually in the country."
"A rather nice house, too," Mr. Pryce said, looking around the dining room appreciatively. But then he seemed to realize he shouldn't be making Mrs. Boyle look even more desirable a prize and hurried to add: "Still, she didn't seem to take to you, so you'd be better off casting your line where the fish are biting."
...
