Sheffield

CHAPTER 20

It had been a hot and tiring trip to London. Miss Benning was relishing the cool, lavender scented bath she was soaking in. The summer was proving to be overly dry and oppressively warm. She had many reservations in leaving Sheffield. The fields were not thriving, the mares were struggling to foal and William was still very weak but the elder Donal had all but pushed her into the carriage exclaiming all would be well and sent her on before she could protest. And so here she found herself luxuriating in a quiet bath with not a care before her but what dress might be light enough to thwart the heat of the day.

Several hours later the butler opened the drawing room door and announced a visitor. The two women stared at each other in shock for a few moments before Miss Benning collected herself and offered the visitor a seat. After a few more minutes of awkward silence the tea arrived. Miss Benning poured each a cup then sat back to sip hers. "I am sorry to have disturbed you Miss Benning. I quite believed, when I heard a lady was in residence at the Grant house, that I would find Mrs. Whitehouse," said Mrs. Cavinet blushing. Miss Benning placed her cup on the table beside her and stared at the gossip. "I am sorry to disappoint you Mrs. Cavinet but I shall keep you no longer than you want to stay." Mrs. Cavinet choked on her tea at the slight. "Miss Benning I have been utterly without manners. How is your family?" Miss Benning's brow drew up, "Acceptable and yours?" Mrs. Cavinet was taken back at the strange response but endeavored at civility, "Well, thank you. Mr. Cavinet is in the West Indies at present." "Indeed, I dare say he rarely lays foot on English soil." Mrs. Cavinet placed her cup on the table and made ready to leave when Miss Benning again spoke, "Mrs. Cavinet, I have been rude. Though you endeavored on more than one occasion to support false rumors on my account it does my own character no good to treat you with unkindness. I do apologize."

Mrs. Cavinet sat in shocked silence as Miss Benning casually sipped her tea. A quarter hour passed thus until the woman felt compelled to speech, "I am utterly rebuked Miss Benning." "That was not my purpose," said Miss Benning in ire. "Of course it was not, I know. It is that you speak correctly of my own character, towards you at least, and I have acted wholly insupportable. I must wonder, Miss Benning, why you would choose to show me a courtesy I have refused you?" Miss Benning thought for several moments, "Because you mean nothing to me Mrs. Cavinet. I will leave London and my life will proceed as it has before no more the better or the worse for your visit. Why then should I endeavor to treat you unkindly?"

Mrs. Cavinet felt tears prick at her eyes, "Your words are well spoken and not meant in unkindness but they bite just the same Miss Benning." "Maybe it is not so much my words Mrs. Cavinet but the reason behind them that lashes out at you." Mrs. Cavinet removed the handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. "I admit I do not follow." Miss Benning sighed. She did not want to hurt the woman but was she so blind to the effect caused by her unceasing gossip she could not see the damage it caused. "Mrs. Cavinet do you ever believe the mouth from which you receive certain information may be tainted? Does it occur to you that there are those around you who may wish to use you as an instrument to inflict pain upon someone else?" "Oh! of course not, it is but silly gossip," exclaimed Mrs. Cavinet. "Ah yes, and for silly gossip I became a shrew and an interluder." Mrs. Cavinet stood abruptly trying desperately to squelch the tears brimming at the edge of her eyes, she bowed quickly, "I do beg your forgiveness Miss Benning but I must take my leave." She turned quickly almost tripping over the hem of her skirt and left.

~

They strode into the doorway of the immaculate ballroom and came to a halt. An attendant stepped up beside her and called, "The Comte d'Artois, the Comtess and Madmoiselle Marguarite Anna Clara Benning". Miss Benning stared into the sea of people, took a deep breath and recited to herself for the hundredth time that evening that she would enjoy this ball. The group moved together into the room. The Comtess immediately disengaged herself and was swallowed by a large group of ladies who fussed profusely over her golden gown and obscenely large jewels. The Comte guided them to the other side of the room as he acknowledged those of his acquaintance, finally stopping at a small group of men.