The Courtship

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“One hears he takes snuff only from his mistresses’ naked breasts.”

Esther Himmelfarb rearranged her cards and stifled a snort at one of Charlotte Pankhurst’s more ridiculous observations.

Herodia Bellamy tossed the queen of diamonds onto the table. “One hears that he bathes frequently, but seldom alone.”

“A crowded undertaking,” Esther murmured, “given the man’s size in relation to the average bathing tub. Your turn, Lady Zephora.”

“I know for a fact,” Lady Zephora said softly, “that both Lord Anthony and Lord Percival have been ordered by Her Grace, their mama, to take brides this year.”

So much for whist. Esther continued to study her cards while the ladies catalogued Colonel Lord Percival Windham’s many positive attributes.

Their raptures matched Esther’s list of the man’s shortcomings almost exactly.

“He’s soooo handsome,” Charlotte cooed. “And it’s all genuine—the golden hair, the muscles, the height.”

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