Spring Muslins

by Melinda Hammond

  He was rewarded with a smile. Lucia quickly gave him her aunt’s direction and, having completed her transaction, she moved away from the counter to wait for Miss Morrison, who was making a few purchases of her own.

  She noticed that one of the other customers was watching her, a pretty, fair-haired young lady in a dove-blue walking dress and fur-trimmed tippet. A wooden-faced footman stood patiently behind her, holding a selection of parcels. Lucia gave her fellow shopper a friendly look and the young lady stepped closer.

  ‘Excuse me… Miss Luckington, is it not? I couldn’t help overhearing – you mentioned Lady Quidenham.’

  ‘Yes. She is my great-aunt.’

  The young lady nodded and said shyly, ‘I am Verity Claversham.’

  Lucia smiled, quickly casting her mind back over her great-aunt’s guest list.

  ‘Ah yes. You are related to the Countess of Winterstoke…’

  ‘She is my grandmama.’ Miss Claversham nodded eagerly, her eyes shining. ‘I would not have presumed to speak to you, but Lady Quidenham is my great-aunt too. Only by marriage, of course, but it makes us connected – we are almost cousins.’

  Lucia laughed. ‘So we are.’ She held out her hand. ‘Well met, Miss Claversham, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.’ She beckoned to Miss Morrison to join her and introductions were made.

  ‘I had heard you were in Town,’ Verity told Lucia. ‘Grandmama read it in the notices and immediately wrote to Mama to tell her. Mama is still at Claversham, you see. She did not feel well enough to come to town for the whole season, but Grandmama thought she would want to know about you.’ She stopped, flushing, then continued in a burst of confidence, ‘Lady Quidenham never comes to Town so early, and to be bringing a companion is most…well, it has occasioned no little interest, especially so for Mama, because –’ She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I beg your pardon, we must appear horridly curious!’

  The light in the shop was dimmed by the huge bulk of a carriage pulling up outside the window. Miss Claversham glanced around.

  ‘My grandmother’s coach,’ she said. ‘I must go. I am so pleased we have met, Miss Luckington, I know Mama says – but never mind that! I am sure Grandmama will call at Quidenham House soon.’

  With that, Miss Claversham hurried away.

  ‘Well,’ said Lucy, watching through the window as the young lady climbed into the carriage and was driven away. ‘We already have an acquaintance in Town, and a wealthy one, at that, by the look of it! If she, or rather her grandmother, can be persuaded to patronize Grace, then we shall be off to a very good start.’

  Later that day, when Lucia joined her aunt in the drawing room before dinner, she mentioned her encounter with Miss Verity Claversham.

  ‘She told me she is staying with Lady Winterstoke, whose name I have seen on your list.’

  ‘Her grandmother,’ Lady Quidenham nodded.

  ‘And some sort of relative of yours, I believe.’

  ‘Not Lady Winterstoke, but the Clavershams appear in the Quidenham family tree, somewhere. Lady Claversham is a widow, and in poor health. She rarely comes to Town. There is an older brother, but he is still in the country and not expected to return for a month or so yet.’ Her aunt gave a little shrug. ‘If you have met the grand-daughter, then Lady Winterstoke might be persuaded to come, but I really cannot be sure. I haven’t spoken to her for years.’

  ‘But from what you have told me that applies to most of the names on your invitation list,’ replied Lucy, amused.

  ‘Yes, and I have no wish to have them all traipsing about my house,’ snapped the old woman. ‘I have been quite happy to come to Town once a year and spend a few months visiting my dressmaker and one or two old friends. The rest I am content to greet with no more than a nod.’

  ‘Oh how sad.’ Lucia’s involuntary exclamation was rewarded with glare but she continued seriously, ‘You have become very reclusive, Aunt, and that is not good for you.’

  ‘Nonsense! Why does everyone think I am in need of company? I keep myself to myself and have no wish to engage in idle chitter chatter with people with whom I have little in common. Toadying mushrooms, most of ‘em.’

  ‘Not those invited to your soirée, surely,’ Lucia argued, casting her mind back over the host of lords, ladies and honourables she had seen on the list.

  The old lady conceded the point, but came back fighting.

  ‘You told me to invite the most influential of my acquaintances.’ She added morosely, ‘I doubt they will come.’

  ‘Oh I think they will,’ replied Lucia, remembering her conversation with Miss Claversham. ‘I think they will be intrigued to know what you are about!’

  To Lucia’s surprise, Lady Quidenham took more than a passive interest in the arrangements for the soirée. She herself sent out all the invitations, consulted with her cook upon the refreshments and gave Aston orders regarding which rooms were to be prepared. This left Lucia free to continue with her Grand Plan. She made sure she was seen everywhere, and always wearing one of Grace’s designs. A spell of fine weather allowed her to drive out every day in Lady Quidenham’s stately barouche. Miss Luckington might not yet be acquainted with many people in Town, but she soon became well known to them by sight, and very few of those invited to the Dowager Viscountess of Quidenham’s soirée sent their apologies.

  On the night, Quidenham House was full to overflowing. Lucia was delighted, although her enjoyment was marred somewhat by knowing that she was the object of much speculation about whether her great-aunt was going to change her will.

  She turned aside sly questions with a smile and ignored any snatches of conversation she overheard that involved herself. After all, she had wanted to cause a stir, to be thought of as an heiress, so she could hardly complain, could she?

  If the dowager was gratified by the attendance she hid it well. When Lucia came to sit beside her to ask her how she was enjoying herself, she grumbled that she was being kept up well past her usual bed time to talk to people in whom she had no interest.

  ‘Come now, Aunt, you appeared to be enjoying yourself hugely with Lady Chawton. I believe you were pulling some poor unfortunate’s character to shreds. The lady’s daughter-in-law, I believe.’

  ‘Maria Chawton was merely informing me of the circumstances of her son’s marriage,’ replied the dowager, in dignified accents. ‘She considers he married beneath him, and is naturally concerned.’

  ‘She certainly seems very concerned to introduce me to her younger son,’ Lucia observed, drily.

  ‘Because she thinks you are my heir,’ hissed the dowager. ‘What else is everyone to think, when I am sponsoring your entry into society?’

  ‘Well, you need have no fears that I might entrap Mr Edward Chawton into marriage. That is not part of my plans at all. I have no intention of getting married.’ And with that she sailed off again to circulate, being as charming as she could to the ladies, their daughters and grand-daughters, all of whom she thought of as potential customers for Grace.

  She felt a touch on her arm and looked around to find Verity Claversham at her side.

  ‘Miss Claversham, my apologies, I have not had time to speak to you since you came in.’ She laughed. ‘Everyone will say that my aunt’s party is a huge success, but I would like more time to really talk to people.’

  ‘I do so agree with you, Miss Luckington – oh, how stuffy that sounds! May I call you Lucia? And you must call me Verity. I see no reason why we should stand on ceremony, whatever Grandmama may say.’

  Lucy had been presented to Lady Winterstoke at the door that evening, and recalled that her greeting had been decidedly cool. She was about to ask her new friend why that should be, but Verity was continuing with barely a pause.

  ‘I wanted to tell you how much I like your gown, Lucia. I have heard several ladies comment upon it this evening. All very complimentary, of course! We are all wondering if a new modiste has set up in Town.’

  ‘There is indeed a new establishment,’
replied Lucy. ‘And it is very kind of you to tell me what is being said.’ She glanced down at the glowing apricot lustring that shimmered about her. It had originally been a sacque-backed robe before Grace had altered it into a high-waisted evening gown with a light demi-train.

  ‘I do like the way the spangles around the hem catch the light,’ Verity continued. ‘I shall ask Mama if I can have just such a decoration on my new ballgown. Imagine how wonderful that would be on the dance-floor. Will you come with me now and show Grandmama? If she approves, then my mother will not object.’

  ‘Of course.’ Lucia linked arms with her new friend and walked with her across the room. ‘The new modiste is a Miss Bower and she has premises in Orchard Street. She is most talented and her designs are...just a little different.’

  ‘They are indeed, and just what is needed to make one stand out from the crowd.’ Verity gave a little gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh, I am so pleased to have met you, Lucia, I think we are going to be great friends.’

  Lucy was delighted to agree. She liked Verity, she enjoyed her lively conversation and even if she had not been intent upon parading her gowns before the ton she would have wanted Verity for a friend. Despite their short acquaintance they were already chatting together with ease.

  They found Lady Winterstoke sitting at one side of the room, fanning herself vigorously. Her generous form was robed in a bright green gown trimmed with white lace and she spilled over the sides of her chair. Her countenance was good-natured but she looked wary as Verity brought her new friend up to her and begged her to study the exquisite detail of Lucia’s gown.

  ‘A new modiste, Grandmama. In Orchard Street. Do you not think we should visit? You promised to buy me a new gown for Almack’s.’

  ‘Yes, yes, we will certainly take a look in Orchard Street, but let Miss Luckington come a little closer. I would like to know her better.’

  Despite the rather lazy smile, Lady Winterstoke’s gaze was piercing and more than a little suspicious. Lucy stood beside Verity, calmly answering the old lady’s questions about her family, her past, and then came the question she was expecting.

  ‘And now you are come to London, Miss Luckington. Unusual. I have known Evadne Quidenham for years and I cannot remember her bringing a companion with her before.’

  ‘No, I believe it is quite unusual, ma’am. You can imagine my delight when her ladyship invited me to come with her.’

  ‘Such a treat for you.’ The sharp eyes were watching her. ‘I cannot think what possessed her to do such a thing.’

  ‘Lady Quidenham has asked herself that question a dozen times since we came to Portman Square,’ replied Lucia, a laugh in her voice. ‘However, I do hope she will enjoy the experience.’

  Another voice broke in upon them. A man’s voice, deep and mellifluous. ‘We must all hope that.’

  Lucia turned and found herself staring at a patterned silk waistcoat. She raised her eyes, taking in the snowy white shirt and intricately-tied neckcloth until she was looking into his face. It was the gentleman she had seen at the Dower House. He was gazing down at her, a faint smile curling his lips but his blue eyes held a disquieting glint.

  Her breath caught in her throat and she felt a sudden panic, her body reacting as if to imminent danger.

  ‘Darius!’ Verity gave a squeak and threw herself at the gentleman, gripping his arm and squeezing it. ‘I did not even know you were in Town! You never told me you were coming.’

  ‘How could I, when I did not know myself. I have only today arrived from the country. Now, you abominable chit, let go of my sleeve before you crease it beyond all repair.’

  ‘Yes, Verity, stop behaving like a hoyden,’ Lady Winterstoke commanded and, as her granddaughter laughingly begged pardon, she turned to Lucia. ‘Miss Luckington, allow me to present to you Sir Darius Claversham, my grandson and Verity’s brother.’

  Lucia’s panic was subsiding and she managed to greet the gentleman with creditable calm.

  ‘I saw you at the Dower House last November,’ she said, giving him her hand.

  ‘Yes, I remember.’ His glance was appraising, watchful. ‘Lady Quidenham did not tell me she had invited you to come to London with her.’

  ‘Perhaps she had not then decided.’

  ‘It has caused no little speculation,’ put in Lady Winterstoke. ‘Some are saying the dowager plans to change her will in your favour, Miss Luckington.’

  ‘Grandmama, hush!’ cried Verity, her cheeks flaming.

  Lucy’s brows went up. This was blunt speaking indeed. She answered coldly, ‘And if she does, surely it is no one’s business but Lady Quidenham’s?’

  ‘Not quite, Miss Luckington,’ replied Sir Darius. ‘You see, I am currently Lady Quidenham’s heir.’

  For the second time that evening Lucia suffered a jolt of panic.

  ‘Y-you are?’ she managed at last. ‘I had no idea.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There was no doubting the shock and surprise in the young lady’s eyes. Darius thought that Lucia Luckington was either a superb actress or she genuinely had not known the truth.

  ‘You are very pale, Miss Luckington, perhaps you are in need of refreshment.’ He held out his arm. ‘I believe there is a bowl of punch in the other room, shall we go and find it?’

  She put her fingers on his sleeve, tentatively, as if the touch might sting her. For one brief, intoxicating moment he wished that she would cling to him, as Verity had done. Then he reminded himself of his mother’s warning that Lady Quidenham had brought a young companion to Town, the daughter of Charles Luckington, whom everyone knew had been an inveterate gambler and wastrel.

  When they reached the refreshment table, he poured punch into two cups and held one out to her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She took the cup and looked down at it. ‘If you are indeed this minute come to Town then I am sure you would prefer to be with your family.’

  ‘Not at all. You appear to be on good terms with my sister.’

  ‘We met by chance, in Bond Street, Miss Claversham made herself known to me.’

  ‘Did she indeed?’

  He could not help the sceptical note in his voice and she raised her head, a defiant look in her pansy-brown eyes.

  ‘I hope you do not think I contrived the meeting, Sir Darius. I did not know of your family’s connection with my godmother until Verity informed me of it. And I certainly did not know you were her heir.’ She sipped at the punch. ‘I have no wish to usurp your place, I assure you.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Miss Luckington, you cannot expect me to believe that.’

  ‘It is the truth. Lady Quidenham has been good enough to bring me to London for the Season. I neither want nor expect anything more from her.’

  Darius felt a sudden spurt of anger.

  ‘Coming it far too strong,’ he drawled. ‘I knew your father, Miss Luckington. I am aware of the straits in which he left you. Why, if you have more than fifty pounds a year to your name I would be astonished.’

  ‘That does not mean I covet my godmother’s money,’ she retorted. ‘I have…other plans.’

  ‘An advantageous marriage, perhaps? Even that will be easier if you are an heiress.’

  An angry flush coloured her cheeks and her dark eyes positively sparkled.

  ‘Whatever my plans, they are not your concern. They are not anyone’s concern but my own!’

  She thrust the empty cup back into his hand, turned on her heel and walked away. Darius watched her cross the room, those dusky curls bouncing about her head. He was still not sure he believed her, although her indignation seemed genuine. He frowned. Perhaps his mother had been right to insist he cut short his time at Claversham and come to Town.

  ‘The rift between Lady Quidenham and the Luckingtons appears to be quite healed,’ she had told him, after receiving yet another letter from one of her friends in London. ‘Which is bad news for you, my son, if old Lady Quidenham decides to change her will.’

  In vain had he assured h
is mother that he had no need of the old lady’s fortune. Indeed, he did not want it, and had never taken it for granted. Lady Quidenham had always been capricious. She had changed her will more than once and he was quite prepared for her to do so again. But in his way, he was fond of the old lady and he did not want anyone to take advantage of her. At present he had no idea just what game Lucia Luckington was playing, but something was not quite right.

  He made his way back to the drawing room, where he found his sister and Lady Winterstoke preparing to leave.

  ‘Grandmama is fatigued,’ Verity told him. ‘I was hoping to see Lucia again before we left, but she seems to have disappeared. Have you seen her, Darius?’

  ‘We parted in the refreshment room,’ he said shortly. ‘Give me a moment to speak to our hostess and I will escort you.’

  He lounged away to where Lady Quidenham was talking with Lady Chawton. They broke off as he approached and Lady Quidenham held out her hand to him.

  ‘You are going? I was surprised to see you here, Claversham, but pleased, for all that.’

  Lady Chawton gave an arch laugh. ‘I suppose he heard about your protégé and wanted to see her for himself. Miss Luckington is a charming girl, Sir Darius, don’t you agree?’

  He stretched his lips into a smile and murmured his assent before making his bow and walking away. All the tabbies would be watching to see how he would react to this threat to his inheritance. Well, let them. He would not give them any food for gossip!

  *

  ‘Well that was an interesting evening,’ declared Lady Winterstoke, as the carriage rattled out of Portman Square. ‘What did you make of the Luckington chit?’

  ‘Why nothing,’ he replied lightly. ‘What should I think?’

  ‘Lady Quidenham might make the girl her heir.’

  Darius shrugged. ‘That is her choice.’

  ‘You must admit that she is very beautiful,’ put in Verity, who was sitting beside him.

  ‘Yes, she has inherited her mother’s looks,’ the old lady agreed. ‘And her father’s charm. I was quite ready to dislike the gel, but I confess I could not. Her manners are good. She is eager to please, without being too pushing. She is intelligent, too, which is refreshing. Perhaps that is why Lady Quidenham has taken to her.’