idea. It was their duty to be hospitable, she said.
‘You are smiling,’ her uncle commented, while her mother picked at the fish on her plate. ‘Will you share the joke with us?’
‘I was thinking what it must be like to be a boy.’
It was the wrong thing to say because it reminded him of what he had seen. ‘Elizabeth, you are not a boy, you are a young lady, and wearing male clothes will not make you one. Where did you get them from?’
‘I found them in the attic. I believe they belonged to Papa before he went into the army. He must have been quite slender then, for they fit me well enough.’
That was what she reminded him of when he had seen her in the garden: her long-dead father. She had the same proud walk; had Harriet noticed it too? Was that why she had allowed it, to bring back a little of the husband she had lost or perhaps conjure up the son she had never had but had always longed for? ‘I think it is time you had a Season and learned what is expected of you,’ he said. ‘You, too, Livvy. Naturally, I shall sponsor you both.’
‘Oh, that means every impoverished bachelor in town will be all over us,’ Beth said. ‘The famous Harley girls, nieces to the Duke of Belfont, on the marriage mart, the objects of every rake, gambler and spotty young shaver who fancies his chances. It will be hateful.’
‘You must have a very poor opinion of me if you think I will allow that to happen,’ he said. ‘You will be protected from the undesirable—’
‘And from anyone in the least bit interesting too.’
‘Not at all. Credit me with a little compassion.’
‘Beth, please don’t be difficult,’ Harriet said.
‘I am sorry, Mama, but you know how I feel about the false way husbands are chosen. I want to be in love with the man I marry. Who he is, and how rich he is, is unimportant.’
‘You will not be forced into marriage, Beth,’ James said gently. ‘The idea is simply to introduce you to society and to allow you to choose for yourself. Your mother married for love, I married for love—I do not see why you should not do so too.’
‘Within reason,’ she added, suddenly thinking of Toby. He was so easy with her, but then they had known each other since they were tiny children, had as good as grown up together, and the difference in their status was unimportant.
‘Within reason,’ James concurred, as if he could guess her thoughts.
‘I should like to be married,’ Livvy put in. ‘He must be handsome, of course, and not too old, but rich enough to have extensive stables. Horses must be his passion.’
James laughed. ‘Then we shall have to see if we can suit you. But there is no hurry, you are still very young.’
‘And Beth must be accommodated first.’
‘That would be best,’ their mother put in.
‘Then I do hope you are not going to be difficult, Beth,’ Livvy said, turning to her sister. ‘I do not want to let my perfect partner slip through my fingers because you are prevaricating.’
Beth longed to suggest that they should go without her and leave her to her gardening and her dreams of becoming a famous botanist, but she knew that would upset her mother, so she said nothing. They spent some time discussing the arrangements, when they would travel and whom they would take. Jeannette, her mother’s maid, would accompany them, of course, and Miss Andover, known as Nan, who had been the girls’ governess but had agreed to take over the role of maid to the girls. They no longer needed a teacher and she had decided it was better than being pensioned off. Their coachman would drive them and Edward Grimble, the young groom, would ride Livvy’s mare, Zephyr. She positively refused to go without her horse and her mama would not let her ride her all the way to London herself.
‘What about you?’ James asked Beth. ‘Do you wish to have your mount brought to town?’
Beth wished she could suggest Toby rode her horse to London, then at least she would have some sensible company, someone to talk to. They might even go to Kew Gardens together, but she knew it was too much to ask. He would not leave his work in the garden; nature could not wait on her whims. ‘I will be quite content with a hired hack, Uncle, thank you,’ she said. Wealthy as he was, and however extensive the stables at Dersingham Park, his country seat, he did not keep many horses in London.
‘Then shall we say ten days from now? You will be there right at the beginning of the season.’
‘And shall we be invited to the coronation?’ Livvy asked.
‘Oh, Livvy, surely you do not want to attend that,’ Beth put in. ‘All that dressing up in the heat of the summer and standing about for hours and hours and for what?’
‘To see the King and Queen crowned, of course.’
‘If her Majesty is allowed anywhere near the ceremony,’ Beth added. She held no brief for the Royal family, what with the King’s numerous affairs and his efforts to discredit his wife so that he could divorce her and not have her acknowledged as Queen. He had failed in that and Caroline was still the Queen, though King George refused to have anything to do with her and she lived in a separate establishment. Now the question was, would she be crowned with him?
‘You will be going, Uncle James, won’t you?’ Livvy queried.
‘I shall have no choice, not only because every aristocrat in the land will be expected to attend, but I am on his Majesty’s staff and involved in the arrangements.’ It was why he had been obliged to leave his country estate earlier than usual to take up residence in London.
‘In that case, why take on the extra responsibility of bringing us out?’ Beth asked.
‘That, my dear Beth, will be a pleasure and a privilege.’
Beth felt she was being propelled willy-nilly into something she knew was going to be a disaster. She would have to pretend to enjoy herself or her mother would be hurt and her uncle annoyed, yet it was not in her nature to be anything but honest; pretending would come hard. And she would be leaving Beechgrove just when everything was coming into growth, all the plants and seedlings being planted out, and the rare specimens that Toby had been nurturing would be showing their worth.
‘But, dearest, they will all still be here at the end of the Season,’ her mother said when she tried to explain how she felt. Harriet had come to her daughter’s room to say goodnight as she did every night and was sitting on the bed beside Beth. It was a precious time when they talked companionably together and problems were ironed out. ‘It is not as if you are going away for ever. Even if you find a husband, you will still come home to be married from here.’
‘I cannot imagine finding a husband among the fops who lounge about town ogling the young ladies being paraded like cattle at market.’
‘They are not all like that. I met your papa during my come-out Season and he was certainly not a fop. He was handsome and intelligent and not at all affected.’
‘You were lucky.’
‘Who is not to say you will not be lucky too? And if you meet no one to your liking, then there is no harm done. You will be out and that will make it easier for you to go out and about when you spend another Season in town.’
‘Yes, Mama.’
‘Tomorrow, we shall go into Sudbury and have Madame Bonchance make up travelling clothes for us. The rest of our shopping can wait until we arrive. The Duke has offered to pay our bills. Is that not kind of him?’
‘Why? We are not poor relations, are we?’
‘No, not exactly poor, dearest, but nothing like as rich as your uncle. Not rich at all, if truth be told. I have never bothered you with things like that before, but now I must confess that the money your dear father left us has been sadly depleted by the needs of the estate and his investments have not