Page 34 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘Girlish sobs,’ Ashford confirmed.

‘Girlish sobs.’ Pip’s pencil scratched at his notebook.

‘Wonderful,’ Mr Brandon muttered.

‘I do not feel shame for it,’ Ashford said. ‘Anyone who isn’t moved by such literature must surely lack a soul.’

‘I hate all poetry,’ Lydia announced belligerently, casting aside her lifelong adoration of the form without a thought.

‘All of it?’ Miss Hesse said, aghast.

‘A jest?’ Dacre suggested.

‘Au contraire,’ Lydia said and beside her Ashford flinched. ‘I think we are all beyond the age of nursery rhymes are we not?’ she continued.

‘Nonsense!’ Pip said supportively. ‘No need for it.’

‘The theatre is worse,’ Lydia added recklessly. ‘Why should one pay to be bored?’

Lady Morton let out a great peal of laughter. ‘Degenerates, the pair of you!’ she accused playfully.

And, well, now felt as good a moment as any to debut her new laugh. It was a sound she had practised with Pip in the quiet of the grounds that afternoon. After half an hour it had become a thing of such violently grating proportions that Lydia felt it must surely be the very first of its kind in the history of the whole world.

In its aftermath, no one seemed to know quite what to do. Ashford was staring at her, eyes wide, grip upon his fork so tight his knuckles were white.

‘Well,’ Sir Waldo said, into the silence, ‘this seems as good a time as any to make our announcement, my dear.’

‘Does it?’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘I am not sure …’

‘What announcement?’ Lady Hesse said.

‘I have received the most flattering offer,’ Sir Waldo said. ‘I have been asked, by His Majesty’s government, to fill the role of Governor of Mauritius.’

There was a ripple of excitement around the table.

‘By Jove!’ Mr Brandon exclaimed.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Lady Morton said.

Lady Phoebe had frozen in her seat.

‘You kept that very quiet, Lady Phoebe, you humble thing!’ Lady Hesse said.

‘You did not mention …’ Ashford’s brow furrowed.

‘Waldo only told me yesterday,’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘A marvellous surprise.’

‘When do you leave?’ Lady Morton asked.

‘Waldo ships out at month’s end,’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘We have not decided when I will join him—’

‘We will both leave at month’s end,’ Waldo corrected. ‘I cannot be without you for a day, my love!’

Lady Hesse cooed her approval.

‘I believe this calls for a toast?’ Dacre said, raising his glass. ‘To the Governor!’

They held their glasses aloft.