Chapter 3

“Speak respectfully to your mother.” Habitual affection softened Nathaniel Baumann’s stern command, even as he gave his daughter a pointed look.

“Sorry, Mama,” Esther murmured. “I just don’t understand why you object.”

Miriam Baumann lay under shawls on her settee; her pallor and shaking hands gave testimony to chronic illness. Her frown seemed to imply she found Esther willful and wanting, and Esther wondered if her mother ever understood her. She bit her lip in anticipation of a scold. A long sigh preceded her mama's reply. “These balls. The upper classes use them to marry their daughters to rich and titled gentlemen. There is no place for you in that world, Esther.”

It was on the tip of Esther’s tongue to demand to know why not, but her father’s concerned glance from where he loomed over her mother’s sickbed stopped her. She clutched the satin covering on both arms of the plush side chair in which she sat and chose her words carefully. “It won’t be that kind of ball, Mama. The entire event has been arranged for the duchess’s charity. The money will go to fund schools, especially for girls.”

“English girls,” Mama said bitterly.

“Surely those English girls need all the education we can support,” Papa said with a twinkle in his eye.

His support strengthened Esther’s determination. “All girls need it. The sort of schools the duchess supports will teach more than needlework and dancing,” she replied.

“I thought you liked that school we sent you to.” Mama sighed.

“I did, mostly. My French is much improved, and the library offered interest. Those schools could be so much better.”

“And you made friends with some of the best families,” Papa said proudly.

Esther smiled back at him. He valued business contacts, but she knew he genuinely wanted her to find a place among the powerful families for her own sake.

“I did. Felicity Belvoir and her sister Sophia will be at the house party. I long to join them.”

“Out of the question,” her mother said. “I’ve heard about those house parties.”

“There won’t be scandal, Mama. I’m sure of it. The duchess will host it personally, and she will see to it the behavior is all that is proper.”

Mama looked skeptical. “Perhaps if I could take you, yes, but you must know that is impossible.”

Esther turned toward her father, hope lodged in her chest.

He shook his head sadly. “I can’t leave town. Business keeps me here. I’ll send a large contribution with our regrets.”

“You see? The Baumanns will do their part for your cause. There is no reason for you to go. You will not meet your future husband there, Esther.”

Why can’t I marry a titled gentleman? Her face crumpled into a frown, but then Adam Halevy’s handsome face popped into memory. The infuriating man turned her insides to jelly, even though his highhanded ways put a wedge between them. Why couldn’t she look elsewhere? The Marquess of Glenaire and his friend seemed amiable enough. Felicity Belvoir’s brother, the Earl of Hythe, had been very polite on his visits to the school. The thought of his dashing appearance made her shiver. All three handsome titled men had made her smile. There would be others. Why shouldn’t I at least dance, flirt, and enjoy their company? Resentment made her as unhappy as could be.

Mama went on without noticing Esther’s preoccupation. “The matchmaker will find a perfect husband in the community for you, Esther, as is traditional. This party is not your world.”

“But, Papa,” Esther burst out, ignoring her mother, “it would be rude to refuse the Duchess of Haverford’s invitation. Her support could be valuable, couldn’t it?”

Papa looked thoughtful.

Another idea came to her. “I may be able to persuade her to include Jewish schools in her charity. Aren’t Montefiore and the others planning a Jewish Free School for London?”

“For boys, yes,” Papa said.

“Why not girls as well? I want more for my daughters.” Esther colored at that. “That is, when I have them.”

Papa nodded sagely. “We need well-educated mothers for our children,” he said.

“I want them to know the Talmud as well as Adam Halevy knows it,” Esther told them.

Her mother’s laugh came harsh and fast. “Mr. Halevy studied with the rabbis for four years. He is a respected scholar. You can’t expect—”

“Why not?” Esther demanded.

“It isn’t a woman’s place,” Mama said, as if that settled the matter.

Esther stiffened and bit her lip to hold back her reply.

Papa’s raised brows communicated more than words. Not now. Not here.

“What about Dinah?” he asked after an awkward silence.

“What about her?” Mama asked.

“Dinah could escort Esther to Hollystone Hall.”

“Nathaniel, your sister doesn’t budge from our parlor or bestir herself unless you tell her to,” Mama said bitterly.

Esther knew she had the right of it. She dreaded the thought of traveling in her aunt’s close company. Still, if it meant she could go to the house party and ball… “She will do it for you, Papa, if you ask her,” Esther told her father hopefully. At least if you order her to.

“Miriam?” he asked.

Mama sunk back against her pillows. “There is no dissuading your daughter, Nathaniel. Do what you think is best.”

Papa beamed at Esther, and her heart soared.

“I’ll respond to the invitation on the family’s behalf, Esther. Perhaps you might send a more personal note to Her Grace?”

Esther surged to her feet and prepared to bolt off.

“Use your best handwriting, Esther, and be sure to use correct address. And, Esther,” Mama called. “Ladies do not run.”