Not Just Lovely Laura

by Jessica Spencer

  “You are being unduly modest, Lady Laura. It is my poem that is undeserving of your attention.”

  His expression belied his words. Puffing up as if he was about to read out a masterpiece, he cleared his throat and commenced:

  Ode to Lovely Lara

  A shimmering star is the Lovely Laura

  She brings with her a golden aura

  If I had to choose among all flora

  It would definitely be the Lovely Laura.

  A dazzling gem is the Lovely Laura

  Her smile brightens every hour-a

  If I had to ...

  The door opened and Lady Maria came in, followed by Lord Daventon. “Lord Hennicker, I'm delighted to see you! Are you reciting one of your poems?” she asked.

  To Laura's surprise, she sat down and looked at Lord Hennicker with a rapt expression. Gareth scowled and went across to sit beside his mother.

  Lord Hennicker appeared to have swallowed a frog. His friend Mr. Theodore laughed and tried to disguise it with a cough.

  “What's the title of your poem? I remember the one you penned in my praise. It was called Ode to Sweet Maria.”

  Mr. Theodore smiled broadly. “I've heard it several times, my lady. Hennicker's new poem is very much like it, except that it is addressed to Lovely Laura!”

  Lord Hennicker looked abashed but Lady Maria only smiled. “My lord, I can very well see how the poem will also apply to my dear Lady Laura. She is indeed lovely and amiable.”

  Lord Hennicker beamed and once again cleared his throat.

  ***

  An hour later, after the last of the callers left, Laura flung herself on a sofa. “Will it be like this every day? Not one of them had anything interesting to say.”

  “It will get worse, my dear. You may get stuck with being called Lovely Laura. The ton isn't capable of much imagination. Where one goes, the others follow,” Lady Maria said.

  Laura shuddered. “Will there be others writing odes?”

  “You may depend on it, and they will liken you to flora.”

  “I will not be able to sit through such calls. I was so bored I thought I would fall asleep.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed,” Lady Maria said. “You appeared composed.”

  “That’s only appearance.”

  “May I remind you that only appearances count here?”

  “I’m worried I won’t know what to say!” Laura wailed.

  “Never fear, love! You will always have someone who will have a lot to say. The ton does not expect a debutante to have scintillating conversation. You need only to politely agree and say a few agreeable words at appropriate intervals. If something original comes to your mind, put your cap on it.”

  “You make it sound so easy!”

  Lady Maria suddenly looked serious. “Pretending to listen is the easy part. We can’t wish away the gossip. Or the jealousy.”

  “Jealousy?”

  “None of the debutantes this year can hold a candle to you. You are far lovelier than any of them.”

  Laura stared at Maria as if she was speaking a foreign language. She wasn’t beautiful. Lydia with her dark hair and blue eyes was beautiful. Her own hair was mousy. Her eyes were a dull grey. And her height made her stand out like a dandelion.

  And then she looked across the room at her mother. Her aunt was right. She had her mother’s plentiful golden hair and her arresting eyes. She smiled. Why had she thought herself plain?

  Chapter 6

  In a matter of days, Maria had truly become the sister Laura never had. Lord Daventon complained she was monopolizing his betrothed but in truth, he was pleased to see her get along famously with Lady Maria. They were close, brother and sister, growing up with an absentee mother and a father who was wont to be in his cups.

  Laura was still at breakfast when a footman came with a message. Lady Maria wanted her company. She had sent her carriage around. Laura quickly finished her breakfast and dashed upstairs for her reticule. When she arrived at Severn House, Maria was ready. Gwen, her companion, was with her.

  As soon as they climbed into the carriage, Laura asked, “Where are we going? Not that it matters. It's a lovely morning and I'm happy to be escaping Lord Newington and Mr. Bennett. Not to mention Lord Hennicker who bristles at the sight of them.”

  Maria leaned forward and tucked a stray curl behind Laura’s ear. “We are going to get you a bonnet. This one doesn't flatter your complexion.”

  Laura clapped her hands. Finally! Maria had promised to take her a week ago but other engagements and callers had intruded. The shop was owned by Lady Maria and it was she who designed the bonnets that had the ton ladies tied up in strings. It was a well-kept secret. Only her companion Gwen, and now Lord Daventon and Laura knew.

  Though the hour was early, three customers – one a supercilious countess – were awaiting their turn. After exchanging murmured greetings, Maria led Laura to a modest sofa. A shop girl brought out a book of designs. Neither the shop girl nor Mme. Briggette who posed as the owner of the shop knew Maria was their employer and also designed the bonnets and caps to suit individual patrons. They thought it was Gwen - which was why Gwen had remained in the carriage.

  Laura leafed through the book, pausing now and then to exclaim over a particularly fetching bonnet. Maria glowed with pleasure. Softly, so as not to be audible to others in the room, she told Laura about what a bonnet was meant to achieve. “Bonnets create personality,” she murmured.

  “Which of these shall I order?” Laura asked, torn between half a dozen captivating confections.

  Maria helped her pick two, and also placed an order for two more, keeping in mind certain morning gowns newly come. Once they were in the carriage, Laura turned towards Maria. “I'm full of admiration. You have done so much with your time.”

  “It isn't all that much.”

  “You had a dream, to sail to America without taking help from your grandmother, and you used your talent to try and make it come true.”

  “Do you have a dream, Laura?” Lady Maria asked.

  Laura picked at the folds of her gown. “Everyone has a dream, I suppose.”

  “What is yours, if you don't mind sharing it with me?”

  Laura sighed and folded her arms. Maria had never seen her look so serious. “I'm grateful for the privileges I have but I long to be able to do something with my life. Aunt Nell doesn't understand. She says I'll have enough to do when I'm wed. Being mistress of an establishment, playing hostess, and minding husband and children won't leave me with any time to moan about.”

  “Your wish is laudable. Though I started the bonnet shop because I wanted to earn enough to sail away to America, I don't deny it also gave me immense satisfaction to use my creativity. Do you have anything in mind?”

  Laura colored. “I have heard of houses where children - orphans and foundlings - are reared. I would like to help them. It is a terrible thing, not having a mother to turn to.”

  Her eyes glistened and Maria squeezed her arm, divining what lay behind her desire to help motherless children. Growing up without a mother had made her sensitive to the needs of children.

  Laura blinked back her tears and smiled. “Shall we stop at the Circulating Library? The latest Minerva Press novel should have arrived.”

  The stop at the library proved to be disappointing. The new novel being much in demand, its copies were all in circulation. Laura had to be content with a book she had previously read but did not mind reading again. As they walked back to the carriage, they were met by Lord Daventon.

  “I saw the carriage and stopped,” he explained.

  Maria smiled and allowed him to take her hands. “My lord!” she murmured.

  Laura looked at Gwen, to share a conspiratorial smile. As usual, her brother and Lady Maria had become oblivious to their surroundings and were gazing at each other.

  Laura turned her attention to the gentleman standing beside Gareth and froze. His Grace, the Duke of Wimberley was looking at her, his
eyes rife with amusement. What was the matter with the man? Did she have soot on her nose? He was a boor, and conceited. Granted he was good looking, very good looking, but that didn't give him the right to laugh at her.

  Instead of looking away, she stared at him even though her heart was behaving erratically, making loud, thumping noises everyone in the vicinity must be able to hear.

  The duke raised a quizzical brow as if to ask whether he was found wanting. As if he would be! Tall, as sleek as a leopard coiled to spring, with dark chestnut hair and eyes the color of chocolate, Lord Wimberley was undoubtedly handsome.

  Gwen touched Lady Maria's arm, to recall her. Lord Daventon was her betrothed but it wouldn't do to gaze into his eyes in the middle of a street. Love was for commoners. The gentry, whether affianced or married, took care not to allow a display of the vulgar sentiment.

  “It's nice to see you, your Grace,” Lady Maria said, dropping the duke a curtsy.

  “My felicitations, Lady Maria, on your excellent match.”

  “Laura, I want you to meet an old friend,” Gareth said.

  Laura gritted her teeth. “Are you sure he wants to meet me?”

  His Grace chuckled. “She has changed. I never would have thought she would turn out like this.”

  “How old was she when you met her? Maybe five or six?”

  If Laura wasn't a lady, born and bred, and wasn’t trained by a strict governess, she would have screamed. Or at the least stamped her foot. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at the men. It was a glare ferocious enough for her brother to notice.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Does he want to meet me, or doesn't he?” Laura retorted, using the annoying third person to get back. Lord Daventon shot her a surprised look. It wasn’t like her to be so bold.

  His Grace threw back his head and laughed. Laura watched him, amazed to see the difference. She had seen him brooding at the ball, she had thought his supercilious the next morning, and rather conceited just now. But when he laughed, she heard an echo in her heart. She had heard that happy sound before.

  “You have really forgotten him. He is Anthony, now Duke of Wimberley. He was with me at Eton. He’d come down with me during the holidays because of some contagion on their estate. You were always following him, calling him Ant-tony.”

  Laura reddened. Strange though it was, she remembered him. He was but a boy of fourteen but to her an adult. He had pulled her out of the dismals and made her laugh. She hadn't forgotten him. He had a special place in her memories.

  “You are embarrassing her. Lady Laura, it is a pleasure to renew our friendship.”

  “The pleasure is mine, your Grace,” Laura mumbled.

  “Daventon, shall we take the ladies to Gunter's? The day is warm enough for a sorbet or an ice,” Lord Wimberley asked.

  “I fear we must decline, your Grace,” Lady Maria said. “We are not yet finished with our purchases.”

  “We shall walk you to the carriage,” Lord Daventon said, offering his arm to Lady Maria. Laura walked with Gwen but when Lord Wimberley offered his arm, Gwen dropped behind.

  “I gather this is your first visit to London. I hope you are enjoying it.”

  “I am, your Grace.”

  Lord Wimberley grimaced. “I inherited the title a year ago but it still brings to mind my father. I would rather you didn't use it.”

  Laura peeped at him. “I cannot possibly call you Ant-tony, your Grace.”

  Lord Wimberley smiled, making Laura stare. Such enchanting dimples were wasted on a man.

  “Ant-tony will not do at all. I shall have to put up with 'your Grace'.”

  “Does Ant-tony offend your dignity, your Grace?”

  “More than you can know. If Mary Jane picks it up, I will have no authority over her. As it is, she twists me around her little finger.”

  “Mary Jane?”

  “My daughter,” replied Lord Wimberley, helping Laura into the carriage.

  Chapter 7

  “Gunter’s would have been pleasant,” Gareth said, as the carriage moved away. “Shall we go to White’s?”

  The Duke of Wimberley grimaced. “I have no desire to lunch at the club. Too many young pups come up for the Season. Have you met Lord Newington?”

  “He is the youngest of five children and heartily indulged by his sisters. He is also an amateur astronomer, and likes to dabble in Geography.”

  “You seem to know him well. Are his estates in your neighborhood?”

  “Hardly. I know him because he regularly calls on my sister.”

  “Lady Laura does you credit. I'm happy the way things have turned out for you. You have made a good match. Lady Maria has never lacked for suitors. I always suspected she wanted a love match. I must say I didn't expect you to make one, though.”

  “I know. Laura can't have enough fun at my expense. She keeps repeating what I used to say.”

  “Love is a quagmire in which I will not be caught?”

  “The same. She calls them my 'famous last words' before Lady Maria swept me off my pedestal.”

  “I guess we were not different from Lord Newington. We thought we knew everything about life. We had it all planned out. You wouldn't marry for love while I would do just that.”

  Gareth chuckled. “You had more sense than I did.”

  “We'll dine at my place. My cook is an able fellow. He will rustle up something for us while we catch up. Unless you have plans?”

  “None that won't keep. Let's go.”

  The duke had underestimated his cook. The man was a marvel. He arranged a repast consisting of cold meats, crisply baked rolls, and an assortment of mouth watering cakes, lightly dusted with sugar

  “Did you meet Barrington before he left London?” Gareth asked as they retired to the library.

  “I met him the day I arrived. I'd put in an appearance at Lady Malloy's ball 'cause she's my aunt. I also wanted to felicitate you. Barrington told me you were in the garden with Lady Maria and would have my head if I so much as ventured in there.”

  “Barrington is prone to exaggeration. Have you met Lady Barrington? She is delightful. Barrington dotes on her. They have returned to the country as Lady Barrington is increasing.”

  “I haven't had the honor. If Lady Barrington is even half as amiable as Barrington described her, he is fortunate.”

  “I came to know her well. She is amiable and true. Barrington is indeed lucky.”

  The duke nodded and fell silent.

  “I am sorry, dear fellow!” Lord Daventon said, resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I still remember your wedding. You and Lady Margaret made a striking pair. It is the saddest thing that you only had three years together.”

  Lord Wimberley went to a window and stared out of it. Hoping to stop him from dwelling on his wife’s death, Lord Daventon asked, “I haven’t seen Mary Jane since she was in swaddling clothes. Tell me about her.”

  The duke turned away from the darkening sky and sighed. “I’m here for her sake. My mother has been looking after Mary Jane. Now her physician wants her to take the Harrogate waters. She isn’t prepared to leave unless I wed again and bring home a mother for Mary Jane.”

  “It is only two years since you lost Lady Margaret. It may be too early for you to accept anyone else in her place.”

  “My mother understands but says I must put my daughter’s needs first. There are other practical considerations. A dukedom comes with responsibilities. When my mother leaves, I will need someone to take over the reins. There are several estates apart from the principal seat.”

  “What are you looking for in a wife?”

  “I want someone who is kind and not shallow. I also want an older woman. She will make a better mother.”

  “Will such a marriage serve you? You were to believe that marriage without love was meaningless.”

  Lord Wimberley’s lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “I was young then. I didn’t know any better.”

  “And now you are an
cient. What does that make me? I can give you a year or two.”

  “I’m twenty-six but I have seen enough to know that ton marriages are rarely based on love.”

  “You found love the first time. It could happen again. Give yourself time to find someone who will suit. If not love, at least look for affection. In the meantime, make some other arrangement to run your household. If need be, send your daughter along with your mother.”

  Lord Wimberley steepled his fingers and stared out of the window. “The first time was easy. I wanted to fall in love with a beautiful young woman, set up my nursery, and lead the life of a dutiful husband. My courtship with Margaret was short and swift. She was the Incomparable of the Season. She had beauty and birth. I was the unattached gentleman with the best prospects. Though second in line to the Wimberley title, I was my uncle’s heir. I would be an earl. Everyone said it was a match made in heaven.”

  “I remember you first met Lady Margaret at Vauxhalls'. You told me it was love at first sight.”

  “I told you. I was young. And foolish.”

  Lord Daventon guessed that losing Lady Margaret had made his friend bitter. He didn’t want to risk falling in love again.

  “Have you fixed your attention on anyone?”

  “I don't want a miss out of the schoolroom. I want a woman who will be a mother to my daughter.”

  “And young enough to give you an heir.”

  Wimberley let out a sigh. “I don't care if the blasted title dies out or goes to another branch of the family.”

  Gareth did a quick calculation. “I wouldn't wish that on the ton. Your heir is the Hon. Philip Lancing, isn't he?”

  Lord Wimberley grimaced. “By a twist of fate, Philip is my heir. His father was the youngest of three brothers so he never stood a chance. During the last year, our family has had more than its share of deaths. A month after my father's demise, his two brothers and Philip's older brother died in a freak accident. Gad, Phillip is a wastrel and has a mean streak. When he was a mere boy, he strung up mice by their tails and watched them squirm. I must try for an heir, to safeguard my mother and my daughter's interests, and those of my tenants.”