She smiled at that. “Yes, odiously dull! And she has three daughters, and they are all of them quite shockingly plain, though perhaps not plain enough to be called the Ugly Sisters!”
“And did they go to parties while you stayed at home and swept out the kitchen?”
“Well, not quite as bad as that, for I was not out, you know! I do think they were not always very kind to me, but I dare say it was tiresome for them to be obliged to have me.”
“I hope they may every one of them die a spinster!”
“Oh, no, how spiteful!” she protested.
“You dreamed of romance, and they made you a governess! I cannot forgive them! You must have your romance in despite of them! How would you like to be carried off, married out of hand, cosseted and cared for by a husband who would adore you — ah, the happy-ever-after ending, in effect? Is that not what you have dreamed of?”
“All girls do,” she said, in a constricted tone. “At least, when they are very young and foolish, they do. But — but real life is not quite like the fairy-tales.”
“But you were made to live a fairy-tale life, and I am determined you must do so!”
She raised her candid eyes to his face, and said simply: “Please do not, Mr Tarleton! I know you are only funning, but — but I would rather you did not!”
“I will do nothing to displease you,” he promised. “Shall I see you at the Dress Ball at the Lower Rooms tomorrow night?”