‘I thought you would be walking! It is but a step to your rooms in Albany.’
‘What, and leave you to drive home unattended? No, indeed. What would our grandmother say to that?’
He sat down next to Lucia, who felt a sudden nervousness at his proximity in the darkness. When they reached Grafton Street he ordered the coachman to wait and she quickly assured him he need not come any further.
‘I shall be perfectly safe with the coachman and a footman as escort,’ she told him.
‘But I must come with you, Miss Luckington. My duty as a gentleman.’
Five minutes later he was back and the coach set off again towards Portman Square.
‘Since you insist upon accompanying me, Sir Darius, I must insist on thanking you for saving me embarrassment on the ride today. I was in the wrong – ‘
‘I thought we had agreed that the incident was forgotten.’
She bowed her head. ‘I cannot forget it. Mine was the blame.’
‘You are incensed that I acted chivalrously?’ He chuckled and turned towards her, putting the fingers of one hand beneath her chin so that she was obliged to look up at him. He said softly, ‘How could I do otherwise, when you looked so magnificent?’
The flare of a passing street lamp glinted in his eyes and she was unable to look away, unable to move as he lowered his head and kissed her.
For a moment she froze, then a tremor ran through her, a wave of something primal, powerful. She was about to throw caution to the winds and put her arms about his neck when he raised his head.
‘Now I am the one to blame,’ he murmured. ‘Forgive me!’
‘Of course.’ Her voice shook, but only a little. ‘Forgive and forget, would be best, I think.’
What a foolish thing to say! She should rebuke him firmly for his actions but she felt dazed and off balance, unable to think clearly. The carriage was slowing. They had reached Quidenham House and before she could gather her wits, Sir Darius had jumped out of the carriage and was holding out his hand to help her down. Somehow, she managed to walk to the door, to accept his salute of farewell upon her fingers and make her way up to her room, but her thoughts were so jumbled, so troubled, that it was a long time before she fell asleep that night.
CHAPTER NINE
Lucia woke with the megrims. She was not unhappy, just aware of a vague, unsettling dissatisfaction. That was due to a disturbed night, she decided. Or perhaps too many glasses of wine. Her dreams had been of Sir Darius teasing her, smiling at her.
Kissing her.
Gentlemen flirted. She knew that, her teachers at the academy had been at pains to warn their pupils that gentlemen were not to be trusted and she had witnessed it many times since she had been in London. Even at Almack’s she had observed how the gentlemen behaved, indeed she had experienced it herself. They paid court, acting as if their partner was the only woman in the world, and then moving on to the next dance, the next lady and beginning all over again.
She had also observed how the ladies reacted. Some would sigh, their eyes following one particular gentleman as if he was their sole delight. Others, wiser and more experienced, would wave their partner away with a smile and go off to flirt themselves with some other gentleman. Clearly it did not do to take any man’s attentions seriously. Especially a man as fashionable, as handsome, as disturbing as Sir Darius Claversham.
Perhaps her response had been the right one, after all. Treat the kiss lightly, as if it did not matter at all. Now all she had to do was to put the matter completely out of her mind. Lucia threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. She would forget all about Sir Darius Claversham and pursue another matter that had been on her mind for some time: Aunt Evadne’s mysterious Mr T.
She began by calling at Grafton Street. Verity had arranged to accompany Mary Garwood and her brother to the royal academy and Lucia was confident she would find Lady Winterstoke alone. In fact, when she was ushered into the morning room, she found her quarry had been enjoying a nap, for she sat up very quickly when Lucia was announced.
‘Good morning, Lucia, whatever brings you here?’ she said, hurriedly straightening her cap. ‘Verity is gone out this morning.’
‘I know that, ma’am, but my aunt thought I should bring you this receipt for a sore throat as soon as maybe.’
‘Sore throat? I have no sore throat.’
‘No, ma’am, not yet, but Aunt Evadne heard you saying that you had a tickle in your throat, and she was concerned. Not that she would ever admit such a thing,’ she added, giving a conspiratorial smile. ‘We both know my aunt does not like to be thought of as a caring sort of person.’
‘Hmm, of course,’ agreed Lady Winterstoke, looking a little bewildered. ‘Very well, you had best give me the receipt.’
Lucy handed over a small folded note.
‘I believe you knew my aunt when she was a girl,’ she ventured, sitting down opposite Lady Winterstoke.
‘Oh yes. We came out the same year, you know. Lord, you should have seen us then, two giddy girls.’
‘And she married Quidenham the same year?’
‘Oh, goodness me, no. Evadne did not marry for, oh, it must have been two or three years after our come-out.’
‘So long?’
‘I know, it was a great surprise to me, because Evadne was quite the prettiest of the debutantes that year, I remember. Of course, there was some talk.’ She broke off. ‘But you are not interested in such things.’
‘Oh, but I am,’ said Lucia, sitting forward. ‘My aunt has been very good to me, but she says so little of her own history.’
‘But this is not history, my dear, ‘twas only a rumour at the time, that she was in love with a young man whom her parents did not consider suitable. Whatever the truth of it, there were any number of young men vying for her hand that first season but she wanted none of them.’
‘But she never mentioned anything to you, no name?’ Lucia took a breath and said daringly, ‘Could it have been Mr Theale?’
‘Linus Theale?’ Lady Winterstoke gave a hoot of laughter. ‘Oh dear me, no! Mr Theale is a noted botanist, my dear. All he cares about is his plants! Besides, he was away with Captain Cook on one of his celebrated voyages when we were young.’
‘Oh. Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am sure! It was in all the newspapers that summer. Let me see, it was Cook’s second voyage, I believe, looking for the Southern Continent. They were away for years.’
Lucia left Grafton Street disappointed but not daunted. She wanted to find out more, but first she had promised to visit Grace. She was a little concerned to be shown into the consulting room directly, but her fears that business was falling off were soon put to rest.
‘You are fortunate to find me alone, Cousin.’ Grace came up to kiss her cheek. ‘Lady Chawton has just this minute left, having ordered three gowns from me!’ A faint blush mantled her pale cheek as she said shyly, ‘I think I owe the visit purely to you, Lucia, because it was her son who brought her and urged her to buy. He claimed he had heard such glowing reports of my work!’
‘If he has, it has not been from me. I am very careful to show off your dresses without making claims that might appear too forward. However, I can tell you that the riding habit was much admired yesterday!’
She went on to relay the compliments she had received and then described in as much detail as she could other outfits she had seen.
‘Thank you,’ said Grace, when she had finished her recital. ‘I want to know everything possible about the latest fashions. You know I go about as much as I can, when I have time, but of course I cannot attend society parties as you do. Your descriptions from Almack’s and from the military review were extremely useful. In fact I am currently working on a military style pelisse. I just wish I could draw a little better.’
‘You do very well,’ Lucia told her. ‘From what Morry says, the accounts show your customers are very well pleased with you.’
Ella came in to announce another
customer and Lucia took her leave. The business in Orchard Street was doing very well and Morry had already said they would be able to begin paying her a return on her investment in a month or two. There really was very little for her to do now, she thought, what with Morry looking after the accounts and Grace happily running her team of seamstresses.
The slight discontent that she had felt that morning surfaced again. It was little comfort to remember it was her investment that had made everything possible. She wondered just how necessary it had been for her to go into Society. It was the materials from Grandmama’s trunks that had started it all, Grace had made such lovely clothes for Lucia to wear that spring, plus making the jackets, mantles, reticules and muffs that had sold so well and provided extra income while Grace made a name for herself. Lucy wondered now if she had merely persuaded herself that she was being useful, when in reality she had wanted to come to Town.
She did not wholly believe that, but she had to confess that she was enjoying herself and she suddenly felt a little guilty at making such use of Aunt Evadne, who declared frequently that she had been very happy with her reclusive lifestyle.
But had she? Lucia wondered about this when she returned to Quidenham House and learned that her ladyship was entertaining in the morning room. She was showing every sign of enjoying herself. If that was the case, then Lucia was glad of it, and she hoped she might be able to do even more to help her aunt.
*
Summer was approaching and Orchard Gowns had so many orders that Lucia laughingly declared she might have to go elsewhere.
‘Nonsense, I have already made a start on a new gown for you, with a matching pelisse.’ Grace picked up a delicately coloured painting from her desk and held it out. ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, it is quite beautiful!’ Lucy looked closer at the paper. ‘But this is not your style, Cousin. Are you employing an artist now?’
Grace blushed. ‘It is Mr Chawton’s work.’
‘Edward Chawton?’ Lucia looked again at the painting. ‘It is very good. Equal to any fashion plate I have seen in Ackermann’s Repository.’
‘I know. I was trying to describe one of my designs to Lady Chawton and he offered to draw it for me. He understood exactly what I intended and after that he, he offered to paint a series of pictures for me.’
‘How generous of him,’ exclaimed Lucia. ‘I have seen his sketches, so I know he is good. I quite see how it is. Mr Chawton needed an outlet for his talents and you have provided it! What a splendid solution for you both.’
‘Yes, isn’t it?’
If Lucia had not been quite so preoccupied she might have noticed the slightly wistful note in her cousin’s voice. As it was, her mind had wandered to the quiet dinner she had planned with her aunt this evening, when she hoped to find out more about the disappointment she had suffered in her youth.
Following her talk with Lady Winterstoke, Lucia had gone to Albermarle Street, to the Royal Institution. There she had discovered that Captain Cook’s second voyage had indeed sailed from Plymouth in July forty years ago and that Linus Theale had been on board as an assistant naturalist. However, what really excited her was the discovery that Mr Theale had been in Bath prior to the voyage, and Bath was where Aunt Evadne had lived as a girl.
She was determined to ascertain, if she could, that Linus Theale was indeed the mysterious Mr T mentioned in her great-aunt’s letters.
After dinner she accompanied Lady Quidenham and Miss Morrison into the drawing room. She had already informed Morry that she needed to talk to the dowager privately that evening and Miss Morrison, always ready to promote a good understanding between Lucia and her aunt, was very willing to help. Thus, soon after they had made themselves comfortable, she gave a huge yawn and declared she was too tired to stay up any longer. Lady Quidenham looked at her in surprise.
‘Oh, but what of our game of backgammon?’
‘I will play you, Aunt Evadne,’ offered Lucia. ‘Off you go to bed, Morry.’
She flew up to plant a kiss on the old governess’s cheek and whispered ‘thank you!’ as she ushered her out of the door.
Lucia was not as good a player as Miss Morrison, but she managed tolerably well and at the same time she made sure that the glass of madeira at her aunt’s elbow was kept topped up.
Lady Quidenham won the final game and sat back in her chair.
‘You need more practice, Lucia.’
‘I do indeed,’ she replied, packing away the counters. ‘You are extremely good, Aunt. Did you play much when you were younger?’
‘Oh yes. Every evening.’
‘Tell me what it was like, before you were married. You lived in Bath, I believe?’
‘Yes. Bath was a very fashionable place when I was a girl.’
‘No doubt you met many interesting people there.’ Lucia refilled both their glasses and resumed her seat opposite her aunt.
‘Oh yes. The New Assembly Rooms had not long opened, and the first year we were there Sheridan ran off with Miss Linley, causing a very great scandal.’ She sat back and sipped her wine, a faint smile on her lips. ‘Ah, such times they were, to live in Bath.’
‘And to fall in love, perhaps?’ murmured Lucia.
Her aunt’s eyes snapped to her face. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘I was wondering about the mysterious Mr T, Aunt.’ She sat forward in her chair. ‘Oh, do, pray tell me about him, Aunt Evadne. I promise you I shall not tell another soul.’
Lucy held her breath. At first, she thought her aunt would refuse and tell her to go to bed, but after a few moments the old lady’s gaze became softer and her countenance took on a wistful look.
‘He was a younger son. We met when my father moved the family to Bath in order that Mama could take the waters. By the following spring we were in love. I was only 18, he was five years older. He asked for my hand, but of course my father refused to countenance a match with a man who had no money and few prospects. I thought myself heartbroken.’
‘And you wrote those letters to Grandmama.’
The old lady nodded. ‘Joanna was only 16 and still at school in Cheltenham, but I needed to share my grief with someone, so I wrote to her. I instructed her to destroy the letters, but clearly she did not.’ She paused, her brow creasing in momentary disapproval before she gave herself a little shake. ‘It was foolish of me to confide in her. In anyone. I got over my infatuation and went to London for my come-out.’
‘I do not believe you could forget him so easily.’
The dowager gave Lucy a haughty look. ‘I knew my duty. Besides, one of us had to marry well.’
‘Ah,’ murmured Lucy. ‘Grandmama married for love, did she not?’
‘Joanna fell in love with Fred Massey in her first season,’ The beringed hands tapped restlessly at the arms of her chair. ‘Papa refused to allow the banns until I was safely married off.’
‘And that was when you married Lord Quidenham?’
The old lady nodded. ‘He had been pursuing me for months and it was an excellent match. Everyone was in favour of it, so I married him.’ She fell silent, gazing into the past. Then she sat up a little straighter. ‘The viscount was devoted to me, and I repaid him with affection and loyalty. We had no children, alas, so his cousin inherited the title, but Quidenham had settled various investments to come to me in the event of his death. I was left much more comfortably than poor Joanna.’
‘My grandfather Massey’s estate was entailed, I believe.’
‘Yes. When Frederick died without a son, everything passed to a distant relative and Joanna was obliged to use her meagre widow’s portion to support herself and her daughter.’
‘Florence.’ Lucia nodded. ‘My mother.’
‘Yes.’ Lady Q’s lips thinned. ‘Another foolish girl! Family history should have taught Florence what was required of her. She was a pretty girl and could have married very well, instead she chose to throw herself away on Charles Luckington. A worthless gambler!’
; Lucy said gently, ‘They were very happy, Aunt. They were in love.’
‘Love!’ the dowager gave a snort of derision. ‘Love won’t keep a roof over one’s head.’
‘Papa managed it.’
‘Hah! He left you virtually penniless!’
Lucia held on to her temper, reminding herself that the letters to her grandmother had displayed true heartbreak. She thought there might be a degree of jealousy mixed into the old lady’s bitterness. She tried another question.
‘Won’t you tell me your beau’s name?’
Lucia went to refill her aunt’s glass but she put her hand across the top.
‘No. That is all in the past, and best forgotten. We shall not mention it again. Now, it is very late and I will bid you goodnight, Lucia.’
And with that, the dowager rose from her chair and sailed regally out of the room.
CHAPTER TEN
May passed swiftly in a busy round of balls, breakfasts and outings. Lucia was pleasantly surprised at how many of these Lady Quidenham chose to attend. She appeared to be in good spirits and Lucia, not wishing to jeopardise the happy mood, refrained from making any further reference to the mysterious Mr T.
With her circle of acquaintances growing, there was no shortage of entertainments, but Lucy was aware of one notable absence. Sir Darius was no longer in Town. She looked for him in vain at every rout and evening party, but refrained from mentioning it to anyone, especially Miss Claversham, whom she was afraid might read far too much into a casual enquiry. She was obliged to put Sir Darius, and that stolen kiss, quite out of her mind.
Her increasingly busy life also meant that she was obliged to curtail her visits to Grace and rely upon Miss Morrison to keep her informed of how the business was progressing. However, there was daily proof that it was doing well, for it had become de rigueur for ladies to wear an outfit from Orchard Gowns.
Lucia was surprised, therefore, to receive an urgent summons one morning, to attend a meeting with Grace and Miss Morrison.
‘Now, tell me immediately, is anything wrong?’ she asked, when they were all gathered in the consulting room at Orchard Street.
A Season of Romance Page 48