Page 133 of Harpy of the Ton
They set off, and she lost her footing and stumbled against him.
“My poor love,” Lawrence said. “Here, let me.” He grasped her waist.
“What are you doing?”
“What any husband does when he wants to care for his wife.”
He swiftly scooped her up into his arms and carried her inside.
*
Lawrence had beenright. Dinner was a quiet meal, the two of them the only guests.
Bella had never tasted anything so fine in her life—soup that looked like cream, but with a savory taste that burst on the tongue, followed by fish, with a delicate flavor smothered in a buttery sauce. Then came the largest piece of beef she’d ever seen, which Mr. Trelawney carved from the head of the table, followed by what looked like a yellow snowball in a glass with a clean citrus taste, and, finally, apple tart.
Each course had been served by footmen wearing bone-white gloves, gliding around the table, placing each plate before them with smooth, elegant motions, as if engaging in a dance.
It was a wonder anyone could make so many dishes for one meal. She couldn’t imagine the amount of clearing up needed—all those different plates and bowls, knives and forks that had been placed in such an intricate array on the table.
Her stomach full, Bella pushed her empty plate aside. At a nod from Mrs. Trelawney, the footmen approached the table and removed the plates.
“Thank you,” Bella said.
The footman arched his eyebrows, then glanced at his mistress, who let out a laugh. “I’m afraid Henry is rather surprised by your behavior, Mrs. Baxter.”
Bella’s cheeks warmed. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to…”
“To what?” Mrs. Trelawney said. “Thank someone who’s provided a service?” She smiled. “Few of our acquaintances deign to thank those they consider beneath them. I applaud your civility, Mrs. Baxter.”
“But he’snotbeneath me,” Bella said. “I’m no lady.”
“Nobility,” Mrs. Trelawney said, “truenobility, doesn’t come from birth or lineage. It comes from how we treat others, particularly those with whom we do not seek to ingratiate ourselves. Too many men, and women, of our acquaintance lack true nobility, for all that they may be titled.”
Such as that unpleasant man from the afternoon.
“Quite so, Alice, my love,” Mr. Trelawney said. “Nobility is defined by honor, loyalty, and honesty. Don’t you agree, Mr. Baxter?”
Bella glanced at her husband. Again, she caught a flash of apprehension in his eyes. Perhaps he felt as uncomfortable as she in such a genteel environment.
Her head still throbbed faintly from the afternoon, and she stifled a yawn. Then she caught Mr. Trelawney watching her, and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
“Forgive me,” she said.
He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “There’s nothing to forgive.” He glanced at Bella’s husband. “Baxter, care for a brandy while the ladies retire to the drawing room?”
Lawrence’s eyes widened. “Oh—I-I thought…”
“Ross, my love,” Mrs. Trelawney said, “for a man who considers himself a master at understanding the needs of his fellow man, you’re showing a marked lack of observational skills. Can’t you see how tired our guests are?”
“I’m not…” Bella began, but Mrs. Trelawney caught her hand.
“My dear, you look exhausted,” she said. “I noticed how pale you were this afternoon. As much as I enjoy your company, I’m not so selfish as to require it if you wish to retire.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not—we can take tea together tomorrow, before you return home.”
“Baxter, you can still join me for a brandy,” Mr. Trelawney said.
