“There’s not much to pack, Miss Clarinda,” Betty answered frankly. “And Mrs. Foster, the lady who’s been chaperonin’ you since you’ve been here, says there’s no point in takin’ a lot of things with us since his Lordship’s grandmother will want to buy everythin’ new. Her Ladyship is old, but they tells me she’s a great personality and of tremendous importance wherever she goes.”
“I am frightened – I am frightened, Betty,” Clarinda exclaimed.
“Now, Miss Clarinda, you’ve never been feared of anythin’. Why, Sir Roderick has said over and over again that there’s never been anyone who’d take a high fence like you.”
“I can face things I understand,” Clarinda answered, “but it’s not like entering a new world where everything is so strange and where I shall make mistakes at every turn.”
“No you’ll not, not with her Ladyship there to look after you,” Betty said. “Besides, Miss Clarinda, they all say at Melburne you’re the prettiest young lady they’ve ever seen. What’s the point of hidin’ your face in the country with only a lot of turnip-tops to see it? You can do that when you’re old and ugly.”
Clarinda laughed suddenly.
“Are you thinking of me or yourself, Betty?”
“I’m thinkin’ of both of us, if I tells the truth, miss,” Betty replied. “I’m not as young as I was and this may be my last chance to go anywhere and meet anyone. Why, do you know, there are over thirty menservants in this house? Thirty, miss! It gives a woman a real choice.”
Clarinda laughed again.
“Perhaps I am being silly, Betty, It is just that I don’t want to do what his Lordship wants me to.”
“Not after he saved you, miss?” Betty said. “That seems a mite ungrateful! His Lordship was so wonderful that night, he was really. He told me to stay with you all night. He set old Bates and his own footman outside your door with guns and told them to shoot anyone who came into the house. They would have too!”
Betty’s eyes glistened as if she would have enjoyed the bloodshed.
“Then when Sir Roderick died the next day,” she continued, “there’d have been a real muddle if His Lordship had not been in charge here. Just like a General, he was, commandin’ everyone to do this and do that. I swear, Miss Clarinda, you would have felt proud if you’d been here to see how everythin’ was arranged with no fuss and no complaints.”
Clarinda said nothing and after a minute Betty went on,
“’Tis not like you, miss, to be ungrateful and ungracious.”
“And I am both to Lord Melburne,” Clarinda agreed. “Betty, why does he upset me so much?”
“I think it’s because you’ve not seen many gentlemen,” Betty said, “only Mr. Nicholas, and he doesn’t count and, of course, Mr. Wilsdon, who was much too young. When you get to London, miss, you’ll be a big success, you see if you’re not.”
“I don’t want to be a success,” Clarinda said, but her words did not sound convincing even to herself.
They set off immediately after luncheon. Clarinda found she was journeying to London in his Lordship’s travelling carriage. It was light and well-sprung, but it was closed and she had hoped that Lord Melburne might ask her to drive with him in his high perch phaeton. But perhaps because she had been so rude and disagreeable he did not invite her to accompany him and rather forlornly she stepped into the carriage by herself.
They had eaten a light meal in the oval dining room, but Major Foster and his wife were also present and Clarinda had no chance of speaking alone with Lord Melburne. She knew that she ought to apologise and she wanted to ask him questions about his grandmother, but there was no opportunity.
Bending forward to wave ‘goodbye’ to the Fosters, she had her last glimpse of Melburne, and she was conscious that Lord Melburne in his phaeton was already speeding ahead up the drive.
“He might have taken me with him,” she sighed, but admitted ruefully that it was her own fault that he had no desire for her company.
She would have been surprised if she had known that the Dowager Marchioness of Slade was giving her grandson a berating to the same effect when he arrived at Melburne House in Berkeley Square at least thirty minutes ahead of Clarinda.
“You don’t mean to say, Buck, that you let the poor child travel to London alone?” the Dowager enquired, sitting bolt upright with her shoulders back and her head held high.
She looked an extremely formidable old lady until an acute beholder noticed the twinkle in her eye and realised that she had an irresistible humour that made her grandson laugh and a shrewdness that kept the female part of her relatives permanently in apprehension of what she might uncover next.
“Clarinda is, as it so happens,” Lord Melburne answered, “somewhat incensed with me and I really could not contemplate two hours of argument as to why she should not come to London.”
“She has no wish to come?” the Dowager enquired in some surprise.
“No, indeed,” Lord Melburne replied. “She has a vast dislike of the fashionable world, having never seen it and knowing nothing about it.”
“Is she bird-witted?” the Dowager hazarded.
“I don’t think so,” Lord Melburne answered. “She has run The Priory Estate, which as you know, Grandmama, is very large, almost single-handed for the last year and Foster tells me that everything is in the most excellent order. She has kept the accounts, which shows, if nothing else, that she has a head for mathematics.”
“Don’t tell me she is that really terrifying thing, a female with a brainbox!” the Dowager quizzed him. “I swear to you, Buck, if you have inflicted some plain-faced intellectual upon me, I will walk out of this house tonight.”
“You will not find Clarinda plain,” Lord Melburne replied. “She is quite one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. She is so unsophisticated. She has more courage than I believed it possible for any woman to have and she has an unremitting hatred of me.”
“Are you speaking the truth?” the Dowager asked in astonishment. “Are you seriously telling me, Buck, that there is a girl, any girl, anywhere, who does not find you irresistible?”
“Wait till you meet Clarinda,” Lord Melburne proposed with a smile.
“Then why,” she enquired, “why in Heaven’s name are you playing wet nurse to this wench if she has no interest in you and presumably you have none in her?”
“Shall we put it down to a sense of duty, Grandmama? Something that you have always accused me of lacking!”
“I must say there are times, Buck, when you astonish me,” the Dowager declared.
“I am glad,” her grandson said affectionately, “because I assure you, Grandmama, you are always a surprise to me. No one but you could have responded so quickly to my call for help and no one but you would have come here not knowing what to expect but ready for any adventure that I might involve you in.”
“I cannot think why that surprises you,” his grandmother snapped at him. “I assure you life is dull enough in Kent listening to people talking incessantly about cherry trees and your Aunt Matilda continually complaining that she is suffering from asthma. There is one thing I could never abide and that is sick females.”
“I can think of other things as well,” Lord Melburne smiled. “Now that Melburne House is at your disposal, Grandmama, will you give a ball for Clarinda?”
“I will have a look at the girl first,” his grandmother replied cautiously. “I am not going to propel an unattractive creature about, not if you go down to me on your knees, Buck, and that is a promise.”
“I can assure you there will be no reason for me to fall on my knees,” he said. “And incidentally, as I have already told you, Clarinda is indeed a very wealthy young woman and that should make your task much easier,”
“Which means we shall have all the fortune-seekers in London besieging the house,” I deplore and despise those slimy creatures who want to marry a woman for her wealth.”
“I am sure that you will be able to keep
them at bay,” Lord Melburne chuckled.
“I thought that was your job as Guardian,” the Dowager snapped. “You don’t blind me. Buck! You know as well as I do that you have no intention of accepting a neighbour sitting on your boundaries who you don’t approve of.”
“Grandmama, you are too sharp to be anything but dangerous. I will be honest with you and admit that such a thought had crossed my mind.”
“I suppose you would not consider marrying the girl yourself?” the Dowager asked with a sly glance at him. “I have thought for a long time that it would do you good to settle down. And that black-haired minx, Lady Romayne Ramsey, who calls herself your cousin, has the same idea.”
“Does nothing escape you, Grandmama?” Lord Melburne asked with a smile. “I assure you that after the way Clarinda raged at me for daring to propose I should be her Guardian, I would be far too scared, even if I wished it, to suggest any other relationship.”
“Well, there is one thing that I am sure of,” the Dowager said positively. “If this green chit can withstand your much-vaunted attractions, if she has no interest in getting her claws into you like all those other vacant-faced creatures who chase after you like a flock of sheep, then she must be an exceptional girl.”
“Quite exceptional, as you will see, for yourself,” Lord Melburne answered as the door opened and the butler announced in stentorian tones,
“Miss Clarinda Vernon, my Lord,”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You are certainly a success!” the Dowager Marchioness observed as she and Clarinda entered the hall of Melburne House and saw the profusion of flowers that awaited them.
There were bouquets and baskets of flowers on every table and arranged along the sides of the marble floor. Their fragrance scented the air and the cards attached to the offerings appeared each to bear a coronet.
“They are indeed lovely,” Clarinda exclaimed. “At the same time I feel that they are a tribute not to me but to you, ma’am, and your grandson.”
The Dowager smiled.
“I repeat, you are a great success. You enjoyed the ball last night?”
“It was wonderful,” Clarinda answered. “I never thought that anything so magnificent would be given for me. I would indeed be ungrateful if I had not enjoyed every moment of it.”
The Dowager turned towards the staircase.
“I shall lie down and it would be wise if you took a rest as well, Clarinda, remember tonight we are dining at Carlton House!”
“I have not forgotten,” Clarinda replied. “But, although we went to bed so late last night, I am not at all tired. I admit that I was unconscionably late in rising.”
“You are becoming fashionable,” the Dowager said. “You are perceiving it is quite easy to forget country ways in a short time.”
“I am beginning to find that,” Clarinda admitted with a smile.
They moved slowly up the stairway because the Dowager’s rheumaticky leg prevented her from moving quickly. She paused on the landing.
She then asked Clarinda,
“How many offers did you receive last night?”
“Only two,” Clarinda replied, “and both of them from men who I am convinced were more interested in my fortune than in me.”
“I think I can guess who they were,” the Dowager told her. “What did you say to them?”
“I have an almost routine speech by now. I tell them how much I am honoured by their proposal and suggest they call on my Guardian.”
She gave a little laugh,
“I know that his Lordship will deal most firmly with them.”
“That is what a Guardian is for,” the Dowager agreed, “and in this respect you have kept my grandson exceedingly busy these past weeks. I am told that Mr. Frederick Harley besieges him daily for a more lenient attitude towards his suit.”
“He is a horrible little man!” Clarinda exclaimed. “How dare he think that I could ever consider him as a husband.”
“Men of marriageable age have a conceit all of their own,” the Dowager said, “but tell me, what did the Duke of Kingston say to you last night?”
“He did not offer for me, if that is what you mean. I danced with His Grace twice – or was it three times – and found he had a high opinion of himself.”
“With some reason,” the Dowager remarked, continuing her way up the stairs.
“Why?” Clarinda enquired.
“His Grace is, without exception, the greatest matrimonial catch in the country,” the Dowager explained. “His mother was a Royal Princess, which gives him a special standing not only at Buckingham Palace but in every Court in Europe. Besides this, the Duke is the largest landowner in England. He owns a dozen magnificent houses and he is not unpleasing to look at.”
“He is very large and rather overbearing,” Clarinda commented in a small voice.
“If he should offer for you, what a triumph it would be,” the Dowager ruminated. “Of course, child, I cannot hold out much hope of it. Every ambitious Mama has angled after the Duke since he left Eton and yet at thirty-five he is still a bachelor!”
“Perhaps he is waiting to fall in love,” Clarinda suggested.
The Dowager laughed.
“He is far more likely to be waiting for a suitable Princess,” she answered. “As you say, the Duke has a very good opinion of himself. At the same time I should like to bring him to your feet just to see the expression of envy, hatred and malice on the face of every woman in Society with a marriageable daughter.”
“I don’t think they need perturb themselves,” Clarinda smiled, “I am quite certain that the Duke was only being polite last night in asking me to dance.”
“Perhaps you are being over-modest,” the Dowager remarked drily. “There was no one present who did not claim that you were the loveliest debutante not only of this Season but of any other.”
“That is only because you gave me such a beautiful gown,” Clarinda said. “If they had seen me in the old clothes I had to wear at home, they would not have been so enthusiastic.”
The Dowager said nothing until they reached the top of the staircase and then she looked at the girl beside her with appraising eyes.
Dressed in the height of fashion, her muslin gown clinging tightly to her slim body, the blue satin ribbons that cupped her small breasts being echoed by the ribbons and feathers in her high-crowned bonnet, Clarinda was almost unbelievably lovely.
“Did you think,” she asked in a low voice, not looking straight at the Dowager, “that his Lordship enjoyed the ball?”
“I thought my grandson played his part as host most ably,” the Dowager replied. “Did he not congratulate you on your appearance?”
She looked at Clarinda with her shrewd eyes as she spoke and noticed the slight flush which coloured her cheeks.
“His Lordship did say something conventionally complimentary while he was waiting to receive the guests,” she admitted, “but he did not ask me to dance.”
“I have always been told that my grandson has a rooted objection to prancing about the dance floor,” the Dowager said.
“He danced with Lady Romayne,” Clarinda replied.
“If he did, I am sure it was none of his seeking,” the Dowager exclaimed. “If there was ever a pushing demanding creature, it is that pretentious over-acclaimed female! In my day ladies waited to be chased, they did not make a man feel like a fox running for cover.”
Clarinda laughed, she could not help it. She always enjoyed the Dowager’s dry humour.
“She looked very beautiful,” she remarked.
“That is a matter of opinion,” the Dowager replied sharply. “Go and lie down, child. I want you to look your best tonight for your first visit to Carlton House.”
Obediently Clarinda went to her room, but she did not immediately ring for Betty. She sat looking at herself in the long mirror, noting the way that her red-gold hair framed her face beneath her high bonnet and seeing the whiteness of her skin against the blue of her gown.
<
br /> It seemed impossible, she thought, that this could be Clarinda Vernon, the girl who had been ashamed of her shabby gowns, who had gone for years without having a new dress and who had had to patch and darn every garment she possessed.
Now her wardrobe was full of new clothes of every sort and description, all extremely expensive and all in the height of fashion.
Although she rejoiced in owning them, Clarinda could not help remembering the agony she had suffered during her first week in London. She had to stand for hour after hour while materials were pinned around her.
She travelled from shop to shop while the Dowager bought, despite her protests and a guilty feeling that she should not be spending so much money on herself, what seemed to be an avalanche of bonnets, reticules, pelisses, slippers, gloves and wraps.
However the result, she had to admit, was sensational. She had been acclaimed a beauty from the first moment she had appeared amongst the Beau Ton.
Although she tried to be cynical and tell herself it was only because she was labelled an heiress that everyone was so pleasant to her, she had to admit that the whole glittering facade of Society was fascinating and unbelievably entertaining.
She certainly had no time for any introspection. When she was not purchasing clothes or having dancing lessons, she and the Dowager Marchioness were being entertained at almost every hour of the day.
There were not only balls, but Receptions, assemblies, smaller gatherings where people conversed and listened to music, luncheon parties and dinner parties, besides the time taken up with innumerable callers paying respects to the Dowager while keeping an eye admiringly on Clarinda.
“When gentlemen compliment me,” she said to the Dowager soon after she arrived in London, “I cannot help feeling that they are roasting me. I am not used to flattery.”
“You must learn to accept a compliment gracefully,” the Dowager admonished her.
“I try,” Clarinda admitted, “although sometimes I want to laugh. When young men go into eulogies about my eyebrows or the shape of my nose, I cannot help feeling how idiotic they sound.”
“You will get used to it,” the Dowager said wisely.
The Irresistible Buck Page 13