A Season of Romance

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Only your brother! Verity, I was mortified.’

  ‘Pho, Lucy, it was hardly your fault. Darius said I was to tell you the matter will not be mentioned again.’

  ‘Let us hope he can keep that matter a secret!’ Lucy muttered.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I was thinking of Orchard Gowns.’ Lucy twisted her hands together. ‘My being related to Mrs Bower.’

  ‘Oh that!’ Verity waved her hand. ‘Grandmama sees nothing amiss. Even Darius told Mama she was making a fuss over nothing and that you could not be blamed for wearing clothes fashioned by your cousin when they are so exquisite.’ She giggled. ‘He even suggested Mama should visit Orchard Gowns herself!’

  Lucy was heartened by this, but while customers continued to flock to Orchard Street, it was clear that Lucy’s reputation had been damaged. Some, like Lady Chawton, did not hesitate to show their disapproval and afforded Lucy no more than a cold nod when they met in Bond Street, and when Lucia and her aunt attended St George’s in Hanover Square for the morning service that Sunday, Lucia received a frosty reception from several members of the congregation. A group of ladies were gathered outside the door as they left the church and Lucy recognised one of them as Mrs Torrington, whom she had last seen at Lady Winterstoke’s party. They all nodded and smiled at Lady Quidenham and her niece, but Lucy noticed Mrs Torrington boldly eyeing her from head to foot, and as she followed her aunt into the carriage, the lady’s tinkling laugh carried across to her.

  ‘Oh yes, my dears, she has a certain style, but let us be honest, she is no more than a fashion doll for her cousin.’

  Lucy sat down in the carriage with a bump. Had Darius confided her secret to Mrs Torrington? Is that how the truth had got about? She felt the familiar knot of anger inside. Even if it was the dashing matron who had spread the tale, it was the gentleman who was at fault, because Lucy had told him in confidence.

  The matter was still worrying Lucy when she walked to Bond Street with Miss Morrison the following day. She was in no mood for shopping, but the idea of remaining indoors with her great-aunt was even less appealing. After an hour of trailing from shop to shop under the blazing June sunshine, Morry suggested they should call in Gunter’s and enjoy a cooling ice cream.

  Lucy agreed immediately and they set off for Berkeley Square, but when they reached the famous tea shop they discovered Lady Winterstoke was there with her grandchildren.

  Verity immediately hailed Lucy and insisted they should join them at their table.

  ‘Darius, ask the waiter for two more seats here, if you please!’ She caught Lucy’s hand and pulled her down onto the chair beside her, chattering all the time.

  When the extra chairs were brought in, Darius arranged his next to Lucy. She tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. Her body tingled to have him so close and there was nothing she could do about the erratic beat of her heart. Verity was enjoying her iced custard and Miss Morrison was deep in conversation with Lady Winterstoke. She and Sir Darius might have been sitting at a separate table, for all the notice anyone was taking of them.

  ‘I have not seen you since the party at Grafton Street,’ he said. ‘I trust Sir Henry has not inconvenienced you since?’

  ‘No.’

  She did not look up, but heard him chuckle.

  ‘Perhaps you will admit now that my pugilistic skills are of some use.’

  His blithe response roused her indignation.

  ‘I abhor violence,’ she said coldly. She hesitated, before deciding that the noise and chatter of the room was too great to allow anyone to hear what they were saying and added bitterly, ‘As much as I abhor the breaking of confidences.’ When he did not reply she continued. ‘I am not so concerned for myself, but Lady Quidenham has been greatly distressed by what has been said – what is being said – concerning my links with Orchard Gowns.’

  He frowned at that.

  ‘I have done my best to alleviate the gossip whenever I have heard anything.’

  ‘The fact is, Sir Darius, it should never have become public knowledge!’

  ‘I suppose it was always going to get out, at some point.’ He stared at her. ‘You do not think I mentioned it to anyone?’

  She glared at him. ‘There is no one else who could have done so.’

  ‘You have my word that I did not.’

  Her lip curled. ‘How can I believe you, when I heard it first in Grafton Street?’

  Lucy hunched a shoulder and turned back to her dish, where the ice cream was beginning to melt. Not that it mattered, she did not really want to eat anything else.

  Somehow, she endured the half hour or so until the party broke up. Verity kissed her cheek and promised to call soon, but Sir Darius kept his distance, waiting on the pavement as if wanting to hurry Lady Winterstoke and his sister away.

  ‘Well, was that not a pleasant hour?’ declared Morry, opening her parasol. ‘Do you know, my dear, I think perhaps you and Lady Quidenham are worrying unnecessarily about your links with Orchard Gowns. No one has snubbed us today, have they? Perhaps the ton has moved on to another scandal, and things are going to get better now.’

  Lucy said nothing, but in her heart she thought it was more likely to be the opposite, and things were going to get worse.

  *

  Grace made her usual early morning tour of the Orchard Street workrooms, talking to her seamstresses and inspecting the stitches set by the younger girls, to make sure they were to her exacting standards. When she was satisfied that everything was in order, she donned her russet-coloured pelisse and matching bonnet and went out. With more employees, and a reliable woman in charge of the sewing room, she had a little more free time now and had formed the habit of taking the air there most mornings. Even on inclement days like this, when there was a good chance of a shower, she liked to be out of doors for at least a little while.

  She had not gone a hundred yards inside the park when she heard a quick step behind her and a familiar voice.

  ‘Good day to you, Miss Bower.’

  ‘Mr Chawton.’ She stopped and waited for him to catch up with her.

  ‘I, erm, do you mind if I stroll with you’?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said, a faint blush painting her cheek.

  He fell into step beside her.

  ‘I am sorry I did not manage to speak to you at Church yesterday,’ he said. ‘My mother was in a hurry to be away. You know how it is…’

  ‘Yes.’ Grace smiled, knowing only too well that Lady Chawton would not consider a lowly seamstress worthy of her notice.

  ‘I hope you approve the latest paintings I sent to you?’

  ‘Oh yes, thank you. You have captured the gowns exactly as I planned them. You seem to understand just what it is I want.’

  ‘That is because your original sketches are so good,’ he told her, such a glow in his eyes that she blushed and looked away.

  ‘I wanted to ask you,’ he began. ‘I mean – I did not see you here, on Saturday.’

  ‘One of the seamstresses was taken ill and I was obliged to finish the gown I had promised to Mrs Arbuttle,’ she cast a quick glance at him and said gently, ‘I am a working woman, Mr Chawton, it is not always possible for me to get away.’

  ‘No.’ His voice was low, tense. ‘I wish I might take the burden from you.’

  ‘Oh pray, do not say so! You know you must not.’ A sudden drop of rain landed on her hand and she stopped. ‘It is beginning to rain, I should turn back.’

  ‘Then I shall escort you,’ he said. He waved his umbrella. ‘I came prepared.’

  In order that they both might shelter, Grace was obliged to walk very close to the gentleman, but she did not mind. In fact, she enjoyed having a reason to cling to Edward Chawton’s strong arm. It felt very safe, somehow. The rain began to beat down harder.

  ‘I fear if we continue your skirts will be soaked,’ he said, with sudden decision. ‘Look, there is a gazebo over there where we may take refuge. Come along.’


  She did not protest as he caught her hand and they ran quickly into the small, octagonal shelter amongst the trees.

  ‘There. We are not too wet, I think.’

  ‘No.’ She laughed, exhilarated by the exertion. ‘Hardly wet at all!’

  She suddenly felt very shy, alone with a gentleman, cut off from the world by a curtain of rain. She looked about her. A bench ran around the sides of the shelter and she sat down. Mr Chawton shook out his umbrella and came to sit beside her.

  He placed the umbrella carefully down beside him. ‘This is very pleasant, Miss Bower.’

  She smiled, but kept her eyes fixed on her hands, folded demurely in her lap and after a silent moment he turned to her.

  ‘Miss Bower, I wanted to say.’

  He stopped again and Grace held her breath.

  ‘Yes?’ she prompted him.

  ‘Miss Bower. Grace! I wanted to tell you... You see.’ He coughed. ‘Since I met you. Since I have been helping you with your designs. That is…’

  He stopped again and when she peeped up at him, she saw that his cheeks were very red. Could he be blushing? Her fingers tightened together and she felt a nervous excitement running through her.

  ‘Yes, Mr Chawton?’

  ‘Well, you see. Ahem. I want – I would very much like – Oh confound it, Grace, I cannot find the words!’

  She glanced out at the pouring rain. Summer downpours never lasted long and she was very much afraid it might clear before he had expressed himself.

  She said daringly, ‘I do not think this is the time for words, Mr Chawton.’ She gave him a shy, encouraging smile. ‘Perhaps you would like to show me?’

  There, she had said it. She saw the hope and uncertainly warring in his eyes then, with sudden decision, he pulled her towards him and kissed her.

  ‘Oh Grace, I do love you!’

  *

  Upon her return to Quidenham House, Lucia went straight to her room, declaring she would rest until dinner. She lay down on her bed and tried to sleep, but the image of Sir Darius’s unsmiling face was burned upon her memory. She desperately wanted to trust him, to believe he had told no one that Grace was her cousin, but who else could it have been?

  By the time Betty came in to help her change for dinner, Lucia had not slept at all, and she felt more miserable and confused than ever. Worse was to come, for when she joined the others in the drawing room she saw immediately that her grandmother was not happy.

  ‘I have had a visitor today,’ she told them, as soon as they were sitting down. ‘Mrs Drummond-Burrell called. She gave me the hint that we would no longer be welcome at Almack’s.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ exclaimed Miss Morrison, her eyes wide with dismay. ‘But perhaps it is not so very bad. After all, ma’am, you are off to Brighton in three weeks, so being barred from Almack’s is not such a very great loss, is it?’

  ‘We are not excluded,’ snapped Lady Quidenham. ‘Not even Mrs Drummond-Burrell had the audacity to say that to me. She merely suggested we might be more comfortable if we stayed away.’ Her mouth worked angrily. ‘Impudent strumpet!’

  This description of Almack’s highest stickler made Lucy smile, despite her worries.

  ‘I took great pleasure in telling her I had no intention of entering their hallowed portals again until they improved their refreshments,’ continued the dowager. ‘I also told her that you had no need to parade yourself in what is little more than a cattle market. You have far more worth than that.’

  Lucy blinked. ‘Why, thank you, Aunt.’

  ‘Yes, well. Whatever your faults, Lucia, you remain my niece and I will not disparage family!’

  *

  Lucia’s efforts to find a little cottage to rent or even rooms a short distance from Town, proved unsuccessful. And with just two weeks until Lady Quidenham left London for Brighton, Lucia sought out Miss Morrison and suggested it was time to warn Grace that they might be moving in with her.

  They were in the morning room, where Miss Morrison was arranging flowers in a vase to stand on the little drum table. She listened in silence to Lucia, then put down the scissors and turned to her.

  'I believe you are right, my dear, and I have been meaning to speak to you about that myself. I hope I can relieve your mind of one worry. You need not be anxious about my future as I have been offered employment. Although you may not be happy about the actual details.'

  'Oh Morry, I wish you would not worry so over what people think of you! Have you found something you think you might like? If so, I am delighted for you. What is it, my dear, another post as a governess, or a schoolteacher?'

  Morry clasped her hands and said, a little breathlessly, 'A companion. Lady Quidenham has asked me to live with her. She said she wishes to set up a legal contract for us, that I may be comfortable and have no worries that I might be turned off without notice in the future. Indeed, she has been most obliging.’

  'Oh.' Lucia smiled. 'That is excellent news, Morry. I am glad that my falling out with my aunt has not reflected badly upon you.’

  ‘You do not mind?’ she peered anxiously at Lucia. ‘You do not see it as a betrayal?’

  ‘No, of course not! You must not hesitate to take it. You have built up an excellent understanding with my aunt and I believe you will be very happy.’

  ‘I believe I shall,’ she replied. ‘I made it quite plain to Lady Quidenham that although she might not wish to keep in touch with you, I must do so. I told her I will not abandon you under any circumstances but neither will I be a party to any clandestine correspondence.’

  ‘You did? How very brave of you, Morry,’

  ‘Yes, wasn’t it? But she did not mind at all. She said I might do as I wished as long as it does not jeopardise her comfort! I have been showing Grace how to keep the accounts and she is coming on very well, but if you were going to live at Orchard Street, then you will be able to help her, too. And it is not as if you will be lonely without me. You will have Grace, after all.’

  ‘I shall indeed. Oh, Morry, I cannot tell you how pleased I am for you.’ She hugged her. ‘And if my aunt proves too much of a trial you shall come back and live with Grace and me. It was what we first planned, after all!’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  With Miss Morrison’s future secure, Lucy thought she should lose no time in telling Grace of the change in their plans. Lady Quidenham had summoned her lawyer to the house that very afternoon to draw up a contract of employment and she insisted that Morry should be present, so Lucy threw on her pelisse and set off for Orchard Street alone.

  For once there were no carriages at the door, nor any customers waiting in the reception room.

  ‘My mistress is in her consulting room, Miss,’ Ella told her, bobbing a curtsy. ‘I will see if she is at home – ‘

  But Lucy waved her away, saying cheerfully, ‘I know my way, I will find her myself.’

  Ignoring the little maid’s strangled protest, she hurried through the passage to the back room and threw open the door.

  ‘Oh!’

  She stopped, staring at the sight of her cousin locked in a fond embrace with Mr Edward Chawton. They broke apart hurriedly, Grace’s cheeks on fire. Lucy, too, was blushing furiously and she put up a hand, muttering her apologies. She would have withdrawn, but Grace stopped her.

  ‘No, no, Cousin, do come in. You will be the first to hear our news!’

  ‘News?’ Lucy was too stunned to do more than repeat the word.

  ‘Yes.’ Grace took her hands and pulled her further into the room. ‘We are married!'

  If she had been shocked before, Lucia was now speechless.

  She looked from one to the other. She swallowed, hard. 'Oh. But that, that is wonderful news. How? When?'

  ‘By special licence today,’ said Grace.

  ‘My mother is against it, of course,' said Edward. ‘Which reminds me, I must apologise to you, Miss Luckington, for her behaviour towards you when she learned you were Grace’s cousin.’

  ‘Di
d you inform her of that?’ Lucy asked him. ‘Did you think, perhaps, it might make her look more favourably upon the match?’

  ‘Good heavens no, ma’am. I didn’t know myself until Mama told me. As if that would make Grace any less acceptable to me! No, she gave me an ultimatum. Give up Grace, or give up the family. So here I am! She has thrown me out of the house, you see, but I believe she will come around in time. I know she wanted me to marry a fortune, but one cannot dictate with whom one falls in love.' He turned to Grace and smiled at her. 'My heart is here, now. ‘

  He reached out his hands and Lucy watched as her cousin went to him, her face radiant. There could be no doubting the affection between them.

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ murmured Lucy, her thoughts in turmoil. ‘Where will you live?’

  ‘Here, of course! We will take two rooms next door for our living quarters. We can ill afford the space, with all the plans Edward has for the business, but it must suffice, for the present.'

  Mr Chawton nodded. 'My paintings of the fashions have proved very popular, and I think we might do more with them. We could send them to other warehouses, outside London. We will print an order form on the back, with space for the measurements that Grace requires to make up a gown.' He began to look quite excited. 'Customers will be able to place an order from anywhere in the country.'

  'What an excellent notion.'

  ‘And Edward says he will look after the accounts, too, so that we need no longer rely upon Morry.’ Grace blinked away a tear. ‘Oh Lucia, was ever anyone so blessed?’

  Lucia felt the heat of tears behind her own eyes as she stepped forward to hug Grace, then turned to hold out her hands to Mr Chawton.

  ‘I am delighted for you both,’ she said. ‘I wish you all the happiness in the world. I believe you have every chance of success with your business venture, too.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Luckington, I hope so. Grace has told me of your kind investment in her business, but I am hoping that if we can make it work, we should be able to save enough to pay you back your capital in a year or two. Won’t that be a fine thing?’