The Marriage Mart

The Marriage Mart by Teresa DesJardien

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Authors: Teresa DesJardien
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spinsterhood? From the positive bloom in her daughter’s face, Lady Edgcombe felt a growing belief in the miracle.
    ***
    Two days later, John handed Mary up into the carriage, where she settled beside Lady Hammand. He crawled in after her, apologizing for the rain he brought in with him, and settled next to Lord Bretwyn.
    “I understand we are to have an interior picnic,” Mary said to Lord Bretwyn. He had the sort of hair that developed waves when it was a bit long, and was lightly touched with silver at the temples. He was very distinguished in appearance, despite the smile lines that ran from his nose to his mouth, or perhaps because of them.
    “Quite right. I suggested it to Rothayne there. Said ‘Why not a picnic at my Sussex place?’ We can’t let the rain run our lives forever, and it’s really not all that far out, and we can chat a bit as we make our way along.”
    “How delightful.”
    “Lady Mary, I wonder if you knew that we have met before our introductions at the Frelorns’s cotillion?” Lady Hammand asked.
    “Oh, I am sorry. I regret to say I don’t recall--”
    “Nor should you, for we were all in masks,” Lettice explained with a friendly smile. “I was the Fancy Bird that helped you when your headpiece broke at the masquerade Lord and Lady Upton held last fall.”
    “Oh! How marvelous we should meet again, for I never had the chance to thank you properly,” Mary cried.
    “Well, as I recall, you did me the favor of setting my turned up hem to rights, so I always considered that thanks enough.”
    “I wondered for weeks afterward who might have been under those feathers.”
    “And how were you dressed, Lady Mary?” Lord Bretwyn asked. “Perhaps you and I had occasion to speak as well, without knowing. I came as a pirate. Even borrowed my brother’s saber, he being a navy man.”
    “I was dressed as a princess of old. My mask was attached to the conical hat I wore. The hat was too heavy, and I had to walk about with one hand holding it up in place, until eventually the mask tore away from it. That is when Lady Hammand assisted me.”
    “Ah, so then we did not speak after all. But I do recall I wondered if supporting one’s hat was an actual affectation from the days of the knights,” Charles said, and his expression was so reflective of his bemusement at the time, that Mary had to smile at him.
    The ride passed in gay conversation, making the journey seem short. John was in an excellent mood, and Mary found herself thinking his was still the sleek, observant demeanor of a tiger, only at the moment the tiger was at play. He was obviously relaxed with these two who had joined them, and there was no need for him to be anything but pleasantly diverted.
    When they arrived at their destination, he leaped from the carriage first, assisting the ladies and jovially stating Lord Bretwyn could carry the picnic basket as he himself was quite occupied with a lady for each arm. He led them quickly through the rain, through the door that had been opened at the sound of carriage wheels, and past Lord Bretwyn’s butler. The former struggled in behind them, mumbling good-naturedly about overstuffed baskets meant to feed twenty rather than four.
    The ride had been of some length, so they set about laying out their repast at once, with the housekeeper, Mrs. Briggins, being sent for plates, glasses, and silverware.
    They sat on the floor, which was covered by a thin blue square of cloth, and the ladies served, passing high-piled plates to the gentlemen, after which they served themselves. A footman hovered nearby with an ever-ready bottle of wine, and the meal was filled with laughter and light conversation. When Mrs. Briggins brought forth a fresh-baked apricot tart sent in by the cook, they all groaned, for they were already replete, but yet the sweet was temptingly aromatic. John talked them all into trying ‘just a slice’ and commenced to serve up half the tart in gargantuan proportions, gaining

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