Page 18 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

The girls all turned to look at her.

“The queen manages reproduction, and the rest of the hive has important work to do. Very fulfilling, I would think. They are all female, you know.”

“I thought you could not…” began Charlotte.

“Except for the drones. But they are thrown out after they do their job. They are useless otherwise. They don’t even have stingers.” She noticed the stares. “There is no need to gape at me like a school of goldfish.”

“We thought you said… That is, indicated that you could not hear us,” said Sarah.

Aunt Valeria made a dismissive gesture. “If I am deaf, I don’t have to take part in empty chatter.”

The four visitors looked at Cecelia, then back at her aunt.

“But you hear perfectly well?” asked Harriet.

“I would hardly call it a perfection,” scoffed the older lady.

“Aren’t you afraid people will find out?” wondered Sarah.

“I think a good many people suspect,” said Cecelia. She had mentioned this to Aunt Valeria in the past.

Her aunt’s response was the same this time, an indifferent shrug. “What if they do? I don’t care what the vast majority of people think. But you seem like sensible girls. I don’t mind speaking to you. A chart is an efficient tool.” She held out an imperious hand.

Charlotte hesitated, then passed her grid over.

“Balls are obvious, of course,” said Aunt Valeria, reading. “Dancing. I like this.” She set a finger on one corner of the page. “Opportunities for a scant bit of private conversation to judge a man’s character. Well put.” Her finger moved to the right. “Ah, rout parties.”

“Isn’t a rout a great defeat?” asked Sarah.

“The name makes one think of hordes of people running away in panic,” said Ada.

“If only they would,” said Aunt Valeria dryly. “That might be somewhat entertaining. Unlike the reality.”

“Routs are large gatherings,” Cecelia said in a bid to regain control of this visit. “The hostess hopes so, at any rate. And they do include a good deal of…milling about. People attend to pay their respects to the lady of the house and perhaps talk to friends. One stands, or walks from room to room.”

“Showing off one’s fine clothes,” said Ada.

“Yes, and observing others. There is no particular centerpiece, as at a concert. Many only stay a little while and then go on to another party.”

“That sounds quite tedious,” said Harriet.

“Exactly,” replied Aunt Valeria. “Which one are you?”

“Harriet Finch, ma’am.”

“Ah yes, the daughter of the old school friend.”

“Such an occasion might be pleasant if one sees friends,” said Sarah, returning to the ostensible subject.

“Much of the interest comes afterward,” said Cecelia. “In the gossip about who fainted from the heat or was snubbed in the crowd and so on.”

“So on,” mocked her aunt. “That would include the intrigues carried on in the crush. As if they would not be noticed. People in general are so very stupid.” She returned to the chart. “What next? Ah,conversaziones.”

“I’ve heard there are salons where serious topics are discussed,” said Sarah hopefully.

“Those are smaller,” said Cecelia. “With a much more limited guest list. Some are confined to established literarycircles, along with people of rank and fortune who wish to patronize literature.”

“I don’t suppose they would invite us then,” said Charlotte.

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