Caro sighed and shook her head. In truth, she had preferred Captain Daventry. This new marquess verged on being autocratic. It had taken her some time to recognize in him the kindly soldier who had sat on the stairs regaling her with stories of life in the Peninsula and answering her questions with as much consideration as if she were a grown-up. She sniffed. Helena had always maintained that money and position often had a deleterious effect on human nature and in this case she appeared to be entirely correct. Where Captain Daventry had been all consideration, the Marquess of Everleigh expected to get his way immediately and without interference of any sort. It was a great shame and it made Caro even less eager to visit her cousin than she had been before. But there was nothing for it. She owed a debt of gratitude to the Mandevilles even if she did not owe it to Lavinia and she would do her best to repay their many kindnesses by providing companionship for their adored daughter.
Taking a last quick glance around to make sure she had not left any special friends behind her on the shelves, Caro tied up the last package and headed off to change into her riding habit. After a morning spent in the library and then this annoying interruption, she most definitely felt in need of a gallop across the park to clear the cobwebs from her brain.
Chapter 5
Several days later saw their arrival at the Countess of Welham’s imposing mansion in Grosvenor Square. Until his marriage, the Earl of Welham had lived happily enough in the family townhouse in Berkeley Square where there had been a Welham since it had been built. His bride, however, after several delicate hints as to the difficulty of holding any truly brilliant affairs in such a modest residence, had convinced him to move to the very impressive edifice which dominated one end of Grosvenor Square.
It was before the wide stone steps of this particular establishment that Caro and her entourage arrived late one mild afternoon, having made good time from Berkhamstead. The countess, who had been resting, sent word that she would be with the two ladies as soon as she had refurbished her toilette. “As though we were fresh as daisies after all this time in the carriage,” Caro could not refrain from remarking in an acid undertone.
“I believe that these beauties take a great deal of maintenance,” her companion replied, eyes atwinkle.
“Oh well, it will only put her in a better humor to see how dusty and creased we are. Besides ...” Caro began, but the rest of her observation was drowned by a commotion seeming to come from the back hall. Caro and Helena looked around in surprise. Such a brouhaha was not in keeping with the picture that either one of them had of the countess’s elegant household.
They did not have to wait long to discover the cause as two small boys, followed by what appeared to be a bundle of rubbish, erupted into their view. Catching sight of the two ladies, they came to a screeching halt. The ball of dirt slammed into their legs, yelped, and shook itself, revealing two bright dark eyes, and a shiny black nose.
Caro, finding herself the object of some scrutiny by two pairs of very blue eyes, took the situation well in hand. “Why, hello.” She smiled her infectious smile. “I am your Cousin Caro. This is my friend Miss Helena Gray and you must be Cedric and Clarence, but I do not know who this is.” She bent over to pat the mess of dirt, and then shook the somewhat grimy hands of its companions.
“How do you do. Mama told us you were coming. I am Clarence, ma’am,” the elder of the two spoke.
“How do you do, Clarence. But you must call me Cousin Caro, you know.”
“And I’m Cedric and are those your horses that John was putting in the stables? They are bang-up pieces of horseflesh if you ask me.” Cedric’s face was alight with enthusiasm. Shorter than his brother by half a head, he was a good deal grimier and appeared to be the more adventurous of the two—an impression enhanced by the fact that he had lost his two upper front teeth.
Clarence tried to quell his junior with a frown, but to no effect.
“And your carriage is a splendid piece of work. Mama’s is silly. It’s all painted beautifully, but it lurches dreadfully and is not at all well sprung. I always get sick when we go down to Mandeville.”
Caro chuckled. “Well, I do hope you will ride in mine without feeling queasy. Dimmock is the best of coachmen and we always journey most comfortably. But who is this?” She pointed to the mop of fur at their feet which, encouraged by her tone, began to lick her hand.
“Oh well, that’s ...” Cedric broke off looking to his brother for guidance.
“You see, we were out in the stable looking at your horses when we heard some yelping and shouting. Along came Argos with a fresh chop in his mouth and Lord Berwick’s stable boys chasing after him. He must have stolen it from the kitchen. But, poor fellow, you can see he is starving,” Clarence spoke in defense of their new friend.
“So Clarence told them to leave Argos to him in his most grown-up voice and that he would take care of the poor creature.” Cedric imitated his brother’s commanding tones and stance to perfection, much to the ladies’ amusement. “But now we aren’t ‘zactly sure what to do with him. He’s a clever thing. He came when we called him and he looks ever so intelligent, but Mama will never let us have a dog. She doesn’t even wish us to have ponies.” Cedric sighed and his blue eyes grew wistful.
“Argos?” Caroline looked quizzically at the disreputable pile that regarded her hopefully through soulful brown eyes.
“Yes. Argos was Ulysses’ dog, you know,” Cedric replied proudly.
“I realize that. I was just searching for some resemblance.” Caro could hardly repress the laughter in her voice.
“Argos was noted for his faithfulness and this dog followed us home and waited for us ever so long outside the door until Cook said he could come in, so that’s where he got his name,” Cedric elaborated.
“We were hoping we could get John Coachman to say he is his so that Cook will take care of him. Then maybe we could visit him sometimes.” Though less mournful sounding than his brother, Clarence could not keep a certain hopeful tone from his voice and it wrung Caro’s heart.
Observing the two blond heads bent over the little dog and listening to them both as they reassured it that they would find it a good home, she resolved to ensure that they kept it. Knowing her cousin, Caro felt she could hazard a reasonably accurate guess as to the nature of the boys’ existence. Lavvy would welcome her two fine-looking sons as long as they were clean, quiet, and adoring towards their mother. But let them deviate from this or demand any sort of interest or attention from her, she would send them away. Remembering back to her own childhood, Caro knew precisely how long it was possible for an active, intelligent child to remain clean, docile, and out of scrapes and knew that the times the boys were in accord with their mother’s view of correct behavior must be few and far between. A childhood without any sort of pet seemed to Caro a monstrous situation and she immediately cast about for some scheme to remedy it.
Thus when Lavvy finally appeared, floating down the staircase in a cloud of rosewater to greet her cousin, she found Caro with a most determined look on her face and the light of battle in her eyes. “You have come just in time, Caro, for we have been invited to the Countess of Mortmain’s rout. It is the first event of any real note this Season and is sure to be brilliant, though undoubtedly a dreadful squeeze. I count upon you to lend me support in my first venture out of mourning. I am sure I have lived a recluse so long I look positively dowdy.” In fact, the Countess of Welham was looking extremely charming in a round dress of jaconet muslin over a peach-colored sarsnet slip. The color of the ensemble enhanced her delicate complexion and fair hair, while the tightly cut bodice revealed a figure that had blossomed into ripe maturity.
Caro sighed. It all seemed so unfair that her cousin was more beautiful than ever. Formerly possessed of an ethereal, childlike quality, she now radiated all the assurance of womanly beauty. The slight, boyish lines had matured into voluptuous curves and the soft round cheeks and chin had firmed into a more classical silhouette. However, if
her features had blossomed, her character had not undergone a similar transformation. After casting a quick glance at her cousin, which left Caro acutely aware of all the deficiencies of her outmoded and travel-stained toilette, Lavvy turned on her sons. “Clarence, Cedric, whatever are you doing here? Where is Mr. Welbeck and whatever is that dreadful thing there?” Lavvy’s voice rose in annoyance as she angrily twitched a flounce away from the general direction of the dirty mop that offended her.
“We’ve come to have tea with you, Mama, as you directed when you allowed Mr. Welbeck the afternoon off to consult with Sir Evelyn on the manuscript he just purchased,” Clarence replied timidly.
“When Sir Evelyn was here the other day, they went on for ages. Mr. Welbeck does seem to know heaps and heaps about old books,” Cedric chimed in eagerly, exhibiting a winning smile that he hoped would make his mother forget the rest of her question.
But Lavvy, proof against the wiles of her youngest, was not to be put off. Directing a quelling look at Cedric, she turned to his brother. “I hope you have some explanation for this, this . . . creature,” she demanded.
Clarence gulped as two pairs of eyes, his mother’s icily demanding and his brother’s entreating, fastened on him. “Well, well, you see . . .”he was seeking desperately for an answer when help came from an unexpected quarter.
“Lavvy, can’t you see that your son has rescued a Transylvanian Long Hair? Poor thing, it must have been lost for quite some time, judging from its condition. Its owner must be quite desperate at losing such a valuable creature.” Caro sighed and shook her head sadly.
“Desperate?” Lavvy’s rigid calm dissolved into a blank stare.
“Oh, yes. They are extremely rare as they are bred only on the Rackoczy estates and given as a mark of favor to their especial friends. I saw a few when Papa and I were in Vienna and I recall Princess Esterhazy confiding in me that she was quite wild to own one, only her family had once so offended the Rackoczys that she was destined never to have one,” she continued, refusing to look at her companion who was struggling to maintain her composure.
“I am sure that your boys, growing up as they have with parents in the first stare of fashion, instinctively recognized the pureblood under its filthy exterior.’’ At this point, Caro was beginning to wonder how long she would be able to keep her own countenance under control. Really, the succession of emotions flitting across her cousin’s face was as humorous as it was transparent, not only to Caro, but to her sons as well.
The boys’ spirits rose as they watched disgust replaced by surprise and finally by a calculating look in their mother’s eyes. Clarence stole a brief, questioning glance at this curious person who seemed to have transformed the stuffy house the moment she had entered it. A broad wink from a twinkling gray eye confirmed his suspicions that this Lady Caroline was a “right ‘un” and he poked his younger brother sharply in the ribs just as that young man was about to burst forth with a string of awkward questions.
Lavinia, having entirely missed the interchange, looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I should inquire as to whom it might belong. I daresay we shall have to keep it until it can be restored to its proper owner. Clarence, Cedric, take it out to the stables so that John can feed it and make it more presentable. We must take care that we restore it in excellent condition. But I won’t have it in the house, mind you.”
Caro, seeing the disappointment in the little boys’ eyes, swiftly intervened, “Oh, no, Lavvy, these animals are bred especially for human companionship. I have seen them as lapdogs in some of the finest drawing rooms in Vienna. I expect this one is more accustomed to sleeping on damask than it is on straw. After all, it won’t be long. I shall ask Princess Esterhazy if she knows who has sustained such a loss, for I am persuaded that she, if anyone, would know.”
Lavinia was torn. She had never cared for animals of any sort—nasty smelly things—but the idea of rendering a service to someone like the princess had definite appeal. Furthermore, it was too provoking that her little cousin, who had no use for such things, should be on such friendly terms with any of the ton’s most influential members. “Very well then, but if it so much as looks at the new draperies in the drawing room, it will be sent to the kitchen. Now, off with you.”
“Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama,” Clarence breathed. Then, hardly daring to believe their good fortune, the boys headed obediently for the door with Argos sticking close to their heels, but not before they had bestowed their benefactress with exultant and grateful smiles.
Seeing the happiness in their eyes, Caro began to feel that perhaps life in London would not be so very empty and dull after all. As she followed a gaily chattering Lavvy into the drawing room, she was able to listen with unaccustomed equanimity to the fashionable entertainments in store for them.
Further assurance that the ladies were among congenial company appeared not many minutes later in the form of the Lord Anthony Mandeville whose energetic pull on the bell reverberated throughout the mansion, penetrating even the satin-covered sanctuary where the ladies had just seated themselves. Within moments, they could hear him taking the steps two at a time, barely allowing Wigmore time to open the door and announce him before he burst in like a blast of fresh air upon the ladies.
“Caro! Famous to see you!” The viscount strode across the room to give his cousin a hearty buffet. His sister’s polite cough recalled his attention to the other occupants in the room and with a sheepish grin he continued, “Hello, Lavvy. You’re looking fine as fivepence. Welham’s death has done you good. Gave you a rest from all that racketing about.”
He threw his cousin a conspiratorial wink as Lavvy, rigid with indignation, burst out, “Really, Anthony, how can you say such a thing! Have you no sensibility? I am sure I was excessively grieved to lose Welham and life without him has been extraordinarily dull.”
“But now you have called upon Cousin Caro and ...” he raised an eyebrow and smiled encouragingly in Helena’s direction.
“Oh, I do beg your pardon, my wits have gone begging,” Caro apologized. “Helena, this is my cousin Anthony Mandeville and Tony, this is Helena Gray, who allowed herself to be lured away from a brilliant career at Miss Chilling-ford’s Select Seminary for Genteel Young Ladies to immure herself at Waverly lending me countenance and providing me with intelligent companionship.”
“And now you have consented to do the same for Lavvy. I only wish I knew what she put forward as inducement to bring you here. Knowing you, I feel that only some extraordinary bribe or threat was offered to force you to leave your country retreat for the frantic rounds of the ton which, no doubt, Lavvy intends to plunge you into immediately.’’
A clock chiming on the mantel brought him to with a start. “Lord, I must be off. Promised to meet Ponsonby at Tattersall’s twenty minutes ago and if I don’t get there soon, he’ll likely have chosen some showy piece of horseflesh with no wind and riddled with spavins.” Grabbing his walking stick, he started for the door, only to turn at the threshold. “I wish that you could join us, Caro, as I am sure you could do with a good mount to make your life here bearable, but I shall be happy to select something for your approval if you like.”
Caro thanked him kindly for his concern, reassuring him that all had been arranged on that score. “I should have known you would not have left the country without some provision. I look forward to riding with you in the park.” Tony turned to go, but this time it was his sister who called him back.
“Anthony,” she fixed him with a meaningful stare, “we are counting on your escort to the Countess of Mortmain’s rout this evening.”
“Oh lord, I had forgot, I . . .”
“Tony ...” There was no brooking the tone in Lavvy’s voice.
A rueful grimace spread over her brother’s cheery countenance. “I shall be there, but only if you bring Caro to keep me company and protect me from all the town tabbies and their eager protégées.” And with that parting shot, he was gone, leaving his sister seething with frustratio
n.
“Really, you would think he would grow up someday and Papa refuses to make him find a wife. I can see it will be left up to me to find someone to be a steadying influence, but how I am to convince such a woman to put up with a madcap like Tony, I am sure I cannot tell.” Lavvy gave an exasperated sigh.
“Don’t refine upon it too much. Tony’s a good sort. He’s just young. He’ll find someone who adores him and looks to him for guidance and in no time at all, he will be the most solid country gentleman you could hope for,” Caro soothed.
“Tony? Why, his life is nothing but one long scrape. He is always tumbling into some sort of trouble or other. How Papa and Mama can bear it is more than I can say.’’ Lavvy gave a resigned little shrug.
“But, knowing Tony, I feel sure he always manages to extricate himself without anyone’s help. And Uncle George was never one to be alarmed by high spirits. It is a pity Tony could not have served in the Peninsula, army-mad as he is, but that truly would have worried Aunt and Uncle Mandeville.”
“I suppose you are right,” Lavvy agreed cautiously, “but still I wish he would be a little more the thing. He is rather like a firework and one can never be quite sure what direction he will go off in next. However, I expect now that you are here, he will be around more often. Certainly we can count on his presence this evening, unenthusiastic though it might be. You must keep him amused by talking to him of horses while I cast about for suitable partners.”
The Bluestocking's Dilemma Page 4