Page 7 of A Sight to Behold
“Did you see the Earl of Langley and his pretty young wife at the ball last night?” Wife Six asked as she set her teacup on the saucer with a clank.
“Yes, he seems to be doing rather well for himself these days,” Father mumbled from behind the paper.
“Why do you say that?” Pippa asked.
“Oh, just an observation. He smiled and flashed large golden teeth. Expensive stuff,” Father mumbled, turning large pages of theMorning Chroniclewith the telltale riffling of pages.
“I wouldn’t want to kiss that mouth.” Across the table from Pippa, her cousin Bea grimaced.
“Why?” Pippa asked in a hushed tone to not draw Wife Six into the conversation. It was common at the family’s breakfast gatherings to have her father seated at the head of the table opposite his sixth wife, at least ten feet away from her, since breakfast was taken in the dining room under Wife Six’s regime. Anything she did was an occasion for pomp and circumstance, even if she was only buttering her toast.
“He’s a rake. His reputation is that of a rather wild boar.”
“He’s married now.”
“To Violet, I know. I was at their wedding. A sow and a boar are a perfect match. They can roll around in their muddy personalities.”
“Still…” Bea tapped on her soft-boiled egg until the top of the shell cracked. With her perfectly manicured nails, she peeled off the thin white shells and piled the bits up on the side of the egg cup.
“Their wedding was lovely. I thought Violet was a gorgeous bride.” Pippa felt the need to say something nice after they’d spoken so much of the truth. Didn’t everyone deserve the benefit of the doubt? Violet had been a rather mean girl and coined the nasty nickname “clumsy goose” that Pippa couldn’t rid herself of. If it hadn’t been for Violet, Pippa wouldn’t be “the clumsy goose.” And yet, Pippa thought that there must be some good in all people, even Violet.
Bea shut her eyes and stuffed her mouth with toast and egg. “If you like that sort of thing.” She shrugged and chewed heartily. Her opinion of Violet’s doom was seemingly a foregone conclusion.
Pippa set her spoon down, her appetite gone. “What’s wrong with kissing the Earl of Langley?”
“Oh, Pippa,” Bea exhaled and took a big swig of her tea. “Where to begin?”
Pippa leaned back and set her napkin aside. “Anywhere.”
“Imagine kissing a man who has kissed so many women before. It’s as if you were kissing them all.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me more about that. I’m all ears.”
“A little less ears would suit you better, dear. Perhaps even help your chances to marry some third son or widower,” Wife Six said from five feet away. She had sharp hearing like an owl, and her personality matched that of a ruffled bird of prey. Shewas ready to descend on a tiny mouse any time, but she’d circle a larger piece of prey for as long as necessary until she could sink her sharp claws into it.
But Pippa decided to ignore her and press Bea for the gossip. Pippa knew that it was a fallacy in Bea’s thinking that was all too typical for diamonds of the first water like her cousin; gossip could easily be taken at face value.
“Well,” Bea whispered, turning her back to Wife Six. Every time she took Pippa’s side, her cousin endeared herself more and more, and that was hard because Bea was already Pippa’s favorite person in the world—the ones who were alive, at least. Mother had been… but that was in the past.
“I heard that the Earl of Langley was rather adventurous in his youth. Daring even.”
“His youth? I saw him at their wedding; he looked young to me.”
“His adventures have aged him.” Bea leaned closer to Pippa and held her hand straight up as a wall shielding the sound from reaching Wife Six ’s ears. “He’s been on a Grand Tour for three years.”
“After his studies at Oxford, I assume. He must have had a gentleman’s education. Did he graduate?”
“He earned honors a term early and then went on the Grand Tour starting in Paris. He’s about two and thirty now.”
“It’s not uncommon for young aristocrats to pay Louis XVIII a visit these days.”
“And is it common for them to go to Carnival in Venice three years in a row?”
“Do you think Casanova was the only man there every year?” She whispered to ensure the duke didn’t hear her speaking of such scandalous people.
