Page 78 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘We miss her very much,’ Lady Hesse said, bringing a handkerchief to her very dry eyes.

She ought to have saved herself the effort, for Ashford’s entire attention appeared now to be on his snuffbox, which he was turning over in his hands. Did he recognize that it was rather heavier than it had been earlier? Surely not, though now Lydia found herself wishing he might. For as much effort as she had put into the scheme, it felt rather cruel to cause him physical discomfort at such a moment.

‘By Jove, is that a Sèvres snuffbox?’ Prett asked, eyeing the box with interest.

Ashford paused. ‘I’m afraid I do not know. It was a gift from my father.’

Oh lord and now she might be besmirching the memory of his one living parent – was it possible to be a worse person?

‘May I see?’

Ashford handed it over, agreeably, and Prett turned it over a few times in his hands before returning it.

‘I have taken a recent interest in the practice you see,’ Prett said. ‘Now they are to release a whole range with my portrait upon them. I could gift you one, if you should like.’

Ashford paused, appearing to search for an answer that meant ‘absolutely not’ but in more polite terms. Then, horrifyingly, he flicked the box open with one finger. ‘Would you care to try some?’

Prett reached out a hand.

No. No.

‘Gosh,’ Lydia cut in, interrupting Lord Dacre mid-flow. ‘I should not think Prett likely to indulge in so unpleasant a habit!’

Several frowns were dashed her way. Prett looked entirely taken aback.

‘In many cultures,’ Prett said reprovingly, ‘the sharing of tobacco is a hallowed act.’

‘It is a compliment, indeed!’ Sir Waldo boomed. ‘Ashford has never honoured me so!’

‘You may have some, too, if you like,’ Ashford said. ‘All are welcome.’

Oh God. No. No! But now it was not only Prett taking a pinch, but Sir Waldo and Mr Brandon were accepting the offer, and Hesse was stepping eagerly forward too.

‘Do you know how to do it, dear?’ Lady Hesse asked her son solicitously. ‘Don’t take too much.’

‘I have taken snuff before, mother,’ Hesse insisted. ‘We’re always doing it, at my gentleman’s club.’ He took a sidelong glance at Lady Morton. ‘White’s, you know.’

Only Dacre refused. ‘A kind offer, Ashford, but it doesn’t usually agree with me.’

‘Oh, don’t be such a milksop, Dacre,’ Waldo said derisively. ‘Here, you must have some.’

After a beat of hesitation, Dacre obeyed.

‘It looks a little odd, don’t you think?’ Lydia squeaked. ‘Perhaps it has gone off?’

‘Miss Hanworth,’ Lady Hesse said, ‘I am certain Lord Ashford does not keep bad snuff – it is bought from Fribourg & Treyer’s I assume, my lord?’

Across the room, the gentlemen were raising the snuff to their noses. All except Ashford, turning to answer Lady Hesse’s question.

‘Indeed. This is their new European blend.’

‘I really think … ’ Lydia raised her voice in one last desperate attempt.

It was too late. As one man, the gentlemen inhaled.

In polite society, when one felt shock or any unpleasant physical experience, one was taught to express this in as polite a way as possible. Aunt Agatha had, for example, recommended that Lydia and Pip limit any public expressions of shock to ‘Oh my’ or, under very, extreme circumstances, ‘Pon rep’.

Needless to say, under the experience of a particularly strong pepper being inhaled sharply into one’s airways, such lessons of conduct were quickly and abruptly abandoned.