Page 23 of Sense and Suitability
Aunt Bean’s voice cut through Emme’s thoughts as she gazed out the window toward the garden and wished for escape. Escape, alas, was as improbable as Aunt Bean’s sense of humor. Emme’s early departure from the last ball fueled some sort of desperation in Aunt Bean to purge every unseemly habit from Emme’s person, inspiring additional passion in her instructions.
Emme ought to apologize to Aster.
“You must always allow a gentleman to speak first,” Aunt Bean intoned, her heels clicking rhythmically across the wooden floors along with the steady tap of her ever-present cane. “Men do not want assertiveness in the ballroom. You save that for marriage when he can’t escape without a great deal of difficulty.”
The corner of Emme’s mouth twitched, and she shot her sister a sidelong glance.
To her credit, Aster appeared diligent, pen poised as though to transcribe every word of their aunt’s lecture. But upon closer inspection, the lines and curves on the page resolved into a map, rather than notes. Aster, always the more elegant and enigmatic of the two, devoted far more energy to charting her grand adventures abroad than navigating the intricacies of the marriage mart. However, with her ready disposition toward falling in love with any man who might promise her a voyage to lands unknown and without an “unsavory” romantic history, she would likely be the one to marry first.
“I would advise you both to ensure your dancing is beyond reproach.” Aunt Bean paused midstride. Her gaze swept from Emme to Aster, weighing them with all the severity of the task at hand. “Beautiful dancing is rather thrilling to the opposite sex. Following dance steps with grace suggests you will manage his household with equal ease and elegance.”
Emme blinked.How exactly did footwork translate into financial management and dinner planning?
“Emmeline,” Aunt Bean resumed. “As the elder sister, you are, of course, an example to Aster. However, having endured two seasons without securing a match, the example is somewhat blemished, which is why you must apply yourself with greater resolve toward matrimony.”
At this, Aster actually raised her attention from her map.
Not that Aunt Bean required any encouragement to continue. Her monologue, like the inexplorable tide, surged on unchecked and rewarded by its own sound.
“Knowing your predilection for distasteful sarcasm”—Aunt Bean turned fully to Emme, her sharp eyes narrowing to either root out insubordination or encourage cowardice, Emme wasn’t quite certain—“I must remind you of three indelible truths every gracious and alluring lady must embrace.”
Emme sat straighter, bracing for impact.
Aster tilted her head, watching Aunt Bean like a specimen under glass.
“Poise.” She produced the word with such force it practically became visible. “A lady must be calm, controlled, and composed. No matter the provocation, you must not betray that you are, most assuredly, cleverer than the gentleman addressing you.”
Aster abandoned her map entirely, her lips twitching at the veiled criticism. Emme supposed it was rather like watching a comedy on the stage.
Unfortunately, Emme had not been poised at all last night. She shifted in her seat, warmth rising unbidden to her cheeks as the memory of Simon’s kiss resurfaced.
“Politeness.” Aunt Bean raised two fingers, her expression solemn. “The second disposition you must keep in your conversations with a man of interest or any of his family members. Politeness in expression, in manners, and in words. There will be plenty of time to speak your mind after you’ve secured your future.”
Emme had no memory of Uncle Geoffrey, but for some reason, she felt a sudden pang of compassion for him.
“And lastly”—Aunt Bean approached, towering over Emme in her seated position like a large lavender shadow complete with a matching feather flapping from her hat—“and this is the most important foryou.”
The implication pressed Emme back into the chair.
“Silence.”
Emme swallowed hard, her independence bristling under the weight of that single word.
“This reiterates the first point. You may lack your sister’s effortless beauty, but you are not without your charms.” Her gaze swept dismissively from Emme’s coiffure to her slippers. Emme fought against an eye roll with all her might. “And you grow considerably more appealing the less you speak. You are decidedly too opinionated and fanciful, Emmeline. Dance steps, the weather, and the host’s generosity will suffice as topics of conversation.”
Emme schooled her features, though it took considerable effort to stifle a cringe. Memories of the ball resurfaced with alarming clarity: her suggestion to Mrs. Plumfield to eschew orange entirely; her adamant refusal to dance with Mr. Seivers, whose proximity left much to be desired; and her impassioned debate with Mr. Long regarding women’s freedom to ride on horseback as they pleased.
Had Aunt Bean witnessedallof that?
Emme’s stomach churned.Or the balcony?
“Make no mistake, my unfortunate nieces.” Aunt Bean didn’t even look in Aster’s direction. “I shall have you married.”
One of the saving graces of enduring the season’s endless balls was the ambience.
And the music.
And, if one was fortunate enough to be at Lady Ruthton’s, the food.
