Lady Griffith's Second Chance

Chapter Five

After dinner, the ladies retired to the drawing room while the men remained behind, no doubt to smoke and drink and, Regan knew from what Edmund had told her, to speak about things that most gentlemen considered improper topics for ladies' ears. Mostly business, or politics, or sometimes even the ladies themselves were discussed through the haze of tobacco fumes and the heady scent of expensive liquor.

Regan often wondered if she'd rather stay behind with the men, to share in their ribald jokes and talk of parliament or the rumblings of war in Europe. Surely anything would be more stimulating than an hour spent perched on a settee with one Miss Lane, who droned on and on in the voice of a simpering three-year-old about the latest fashions in sleeves and hemlines out of London this season.

It was quite by chance that Regan found herself seated beside Miss Lane, the same young woman who had been so determined to win Mr. Cranmer's attention at the dining table. She was also the fourth daughter of a baronet, a fact Miss Lane was sure to tell Regan more than once in the span of only a few minutes.

"Poor Mama will be so sorry to have missed dinner," Miss Lane pouted in a babyish voice, her blond curls bouncing around her ears as she shook her head. "But she says that travel always 'does her in', and so she crawled into her bed complaining of a terrible headache and professed that she wouldn't come out again until Davis—she's our maid, you know—finds her bottle of cordial."

Regan nodded politely and added a few words to the conversation—when Miss Lane paused long enough for her to do so. After her third cup of tea, the men made their return from the dining room and Regan regretted not excusing herself for a trip to the water closet earlier. Mr. Winthrop wasted no time in seeking out Katharine on the other side of the room, her daughter's face lighting up with pleasure at his arrival. The two of them fell into their own little bubble of conversation, for all the world as if they were the only ones in the entire room.

Miss Lane, Regan noticed, fell into a blessed silence as Mr. Cranmer approached them. The young lady twisted her upper body about in an absurd manner in order to regard him over her shoulder - most likely a tactic she'd been taught by another young lady - her chin lowered and eyelashes fluttering at such a rate that Regan feared the poor girl had gotten something in her eye.

"Lady Griffith, Miss Lane," Mr. Cranmer bowed to each of them in turn. "Would you think me terribly rude to impose on your conversation?"

"Oh, la!" Miss Lane waved her fan at him and laughed in a high-pitched squeal. "Dear Mr. Cranmer, you are a tease!"

Before Regan could make her excuses for a hasty exit, Miss Lane began pushing up against Regan's side, shoving her into the corner of the sofa in order to make more room for Mr. Cranmer's tall frame.

"How did you find London?" Mr. Cranmer asked Miss Lane, while Regan attempted to discreetly remove a portion of her skirt out from beneath Miss Lane's bottom.

"So terribly dull!" Miss Lane heaved a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes heavenward. "I cannot abide how little there is to do, and all of the dances and parties grow dreadfully tiresome when it is nothing but the same tedious people, over and over again."

"For my part," Mr. Cranmer began, his gaze lingering on Regan for a moment before returning to Miss Lane. "I find I can never be bored when I am surrounded by intriguing and intelligent people. That, and I believe one who finds himself constantly in need of diversion may themselves be the one who is dull and uninteresting."

"Oh, I quite agree!" Miss Lane simpered, seemingly unaware of the thinly veiled barb in his words. "One day, Mama insisted we visit some museum or the like, and I could hardly keep my eyes open. It was nothing but one bland painting after another. But she did have us stop at Gunter's for ices afterwards, and that was at least something worth putting in a letter!"