“Your brother is a good man,” Anne said, wondering why Elizabeth had chosen this moment to share her story. Anne needed no one to tell her of Freddie’s kindness.
Mrs. Rutledge took a deep breath. “Eventually, as the first shock wore off, I realized that my husband had left us virtually penniless. He would have provided for us, I am sure. But he did not expect to die so soon, and in the end we were left with nothing. Freddie settled a generous allowance on me, and made the provisions for Mary that her father should have. Many a brother would have been reluctant to assume such a burden, would have wished me to find another husband. After my time of mourning, I had several respectable offers. I would have accepted one of them, but Freddie said no. He told me there was no reason to marry, except for love.”
Anne swallowed against a lump in her throat. She knew too well what it felt like to be a woman alone, with no husband or protector. Elizabeth had been fortunate indeed to have a brother who cared so much for her.
“But why are you telling me this?”
“I have had more than my share of happiness. I have found love, not once but twice. All I have ever wished for my brother is that he find the same kind of happiness for himself. And I know in my heart that Miss Sommersby is not the kind of woman who will make him happy.”
Anne felt her own heart stir. “And you think I will make him happy?”
“I do not know if he loves you, or if you love him. But he deserves a chance to find out. I would rather see him happy with a woman of your reputation than see him married to a paragon and miserable.”
A woman of her reputation. Anne winced, even as she admired his sister for her plain speaking.
“I will think about it,” she said at last.
“Do not think about it. Just say you will come,” Mrs. Rutledge said firmly. “In a few weeks you will return to Canada. This might be your only chance. I do not want my brother to spend another seven years waiting for you to return.”
Anne felt herself coloring. “You must be mistaken,” she said. “Freddie has proposed marriage to several women over the years. Surely that shows he was not pining for any one lady in particular.”
“So I thought as well,” her visitor said. “But now I see it differently. Strange, is it not, that he should pay his addresses only to those women who were likely to reject him?”
“It is a coincidence,” Anne insisted.
“It may be. And it may not. But the next step is up to you. Will you come to the ball?”
“Yes,” Anne said, suddenly anxious to find out if there was any truth to Mrs. Rutledge’s assertion. Had Freddie, perhaps without even realizing it, been waiting for her? It could not be. They had shared friendship and a childhood romance. Nothing more. His offer to marry her had been prompted by compassion rather than love. And yet, was there a chance that there could be something more between them? She owed it to them both to find out.
Mrs. Rutledge wasted no time. That very afternoon, she sent over her own maid, and not one but three gowns for Anne to choose from. Anne led the maid up to her bedroom, then watched anxiously as the maid began to unpack the dresses.
The first was of dove gray silk, with long full sleeves, trimmed in lace. The neckline was high and modest, and would have done credit to a bishop’s wife.
Anne allowed the maid to help her into the gown, then examined her reflection in the pier. “A governess,” she said.
“Miss?”
“Never mind,” Anne said. On second thought, she looked less like a governess and more like a penitent sinner. “Let us try the next one.”
The second gown was of sheer lace layered over white satin, trimmed with white and scarlet ribbons. “I can change the ribbons, if you like,” the maid offered.
“It is not the ribbons that are the problem,” Anne said. The satin underdress clung to every curve of her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her shoulders were completely uncovered, and the neckline was so low that she feared disaster.
The maid tugged the neckline, adjusting the silk ribbon that gathered the bodice. “This is very stylish, miss. I just need to let it out a bit, on top. And take in the waist.”
There was not enough fabric in the world to make this dress decent. Anne did not care what they were wearing in London these days. She felt half-naked, and while it might be amusing to see Freddie’s reaction, she could not face down a room of strangers wearing this dress.
“I am certain your mistress is quite à la mode. But I am used to a simpler style,” Anne said.
The maid sniffed disdainfully, but unwrapped the third gown.
It took one glimpse, and Anne fell in love. The gown was a deep violet silk, with long fitted sleeves, and a double row of scalloped flounces. The neckline was square, lower than had been fashionable when Anne made her debut, but not so low as to be immodest.
Anne sighed happily as the maid helped her into the gown and began to fasten the delicate buttons in the back.
“This is beautiful,” she said with delight, as she slowly turned and admired her reflection. She could not remember the last time she had worn such a garment, one which made her feel every inch an elegant lady.
The maid permitted herself a smile. “The mistress thought as how this was the one you would fancy. She had it made up this season, but then decided the color didn’t suit her.”
Reaching into her sewing box, the maid withdrew a packet of pins. “Now just stay still while I mark where we need to take this in,” she said.
Anne stood still, then turned slowly as the maid marked the waist and pinned up the hem.
“Lucky for you that you and the mistress are close enough in size to be sisters,” the maid observed, as she helped Anne out of the gown. “It won’t take me more than a couple of hours to take this in for you.”
“There is no need for you to do it. I can see to it, or one of my maids will,” Anne protested.
“No.” The maid shook her head firmly. “Mrs. Rutledge told me I was to do this myself, and that’s what I mean to do. I’m not letting some half-trained country maid ruin a London gown.”
“Very well,” Anne said, secretly relieved. Her own sewing was good enough for Ian’s sturdy clothing, but a cambric shirt was hardly a silk ball gown. And her maids were as like to ruin the dress as not, out of sheer inexperience.
The day of the ball arrived. It was just twilight as Anne’s carriage approached Beechwood Park. From a distance she could see that the house was ablaze with lights. Light streamed from the open great doors and from every window. Torches illuminated the grand staircase leading up to the hall, while in the east garden paper lanterns lined the paths.
As her carriage turned onto the drive, Anne’s pulse began to race and her breath quickened. She could not do this. It would be a repeat of the scene in the lending library, only a thousand times worse. She fought a craven urge to tell her coachmen to turn around and return her home.
But one thought sustained her. She could still hear Elizabeth Rutledge’s voice: I do not know if he loves you, or if you love him. But he deserves a chance to find out.
It was what she hoped for, and at the same time dreaded. If he loved her, would it be enough? Could they make a life together for themselves and for Ian? Or, in the end, would they have to part, as much for Freddie’s sake as for her own?
In the end, her innate stubbornness came to her rescue. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She owed it to herself, and to Freddie, to see if there was a chance that she could be accepted back into polite society.
The carriage drew to a halt as she finished her musings. A footman opened the door and helped her to step out. Anne lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, steeling herself for whatever would come.
Once in the entranceway, she handed her cloak to a footman, then made her way to the ballroom. Just inside the door, Freddie, Lady Frederick and Miss Priscilla stood greeting their guests. As she approached she saw them greeting Sir William and Lady Dunne.
Her heart sank i
nto her stomach as she approached the gauntlet, realizing she was about to be put to the test. For all Anne knew, the invitation was but a ploy, part of Lady Frederick’s plan to humiliate her publicly and thus ensure that Frederick was forced to cut his connection to her.
And then Freddie saw her, and he smiled. When his eyes caught hers, she could see that he was truly pleased that she had come. Anne felt herself smiling in return.
The Dunnes moved away, and she found herself face to face with her adversary, Lady Frederick.
“Good evening, Lord Frederick, Lady Frederick,” she said, with a carefully measured curtesy. “It was so kind of you to invite me.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Freddie gently nudged his mother. “Miss Webster,” the dowager said, inclining her head in acknowledgment.
“We are pleased that you could join us,” Freddie said. His gaze left her face for the first time, and his smile broadened in appreciation as he took in her elegant appearance. Then he turned to his sister. “And of course you remember my sister, Priscilla?”
When Anne had last seen Priscilla, she had been a child in the schoolroom. Now she was a beautiful young woman, who was bound to be breaking hearts in London. “Miss Priscilla. May I present my felicitations on your birthday? And my hope that you find much happiness in the coming year.”
Priscilla extended her hand for Anne to grasp. “Miss Webster. I am so pleased you could be here. I look forward to improving our acquaintance,” she said, with a mischievous glance at her mother.
Lady Frederick turned a shade paler, but did not reprove her daughter’s levity.
Anne turned her head and saw that there were easily two dozen guests in the salon. Her palms felt damp as she realized that Lady Frederick was just the first test of the evening. Now she had to endure a room full of near strangers. And Freddie, consumed with his duties as host, would not be there to protect her.
But she needn’t have worried. Just as she gathered her courage, she saw Mrs. Rutledge making her way toward them.
As he caught sight of his sister Freddie muttered, “At last.”
“Miss Webster. How pleasant to see you this evening,” Mrs. Rutledge said.
“I am happy to be here,” Anne said. “And I must thank you again for the loan of this beautiful gown.”
Lady Frederick shot her daughter a fierce look, and Anne realized that she had not known about the gown.
“Do not mention it,” Mrs. Rutledge said. Turning to her brother, she added, “The refreshments have been set out in the Chinese salon, and I have told the musicians that we will begin in half an hour.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“And now, Miss Webster, permit me to take you around and introduce you to our guests. You will know some of them, of course, but there are many here who are eager to make your acquaintance.” So saying, Mrs. Rutledge linked her arm in Anne’s and led her away.
Anne experienced a flash of humor as she realized how thoroughly she was being managed.
Just beyond the receiving line was the blue salon, where card tables had been set up. But this early in the evening, the guests had gathered to talk. As they entered the room, Mrs. Rutledge’s eyes scanned the assembled company. “I know this is difficult for you, but you must pretend to be at your ease. And whatever anyone says, do not take offense. Simply give them your haughtiest stare and pretend that they have not spoken. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Rutledge led her over to a group consisting of Sir William and Lady Dunne, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett and the widowed Mrs. Price. They were contemporaries of her parents, neighbors she had known all her life. It was from them that she could expect the harshest criticisms.
As she drew near she could hear Sir William saying, “So then he married her!” There was polite laughter, which trailed off as they caught sight of Anne.
“Good evening,” Mrs. Rutledge said. “I believe you all remember Anne Webster? She has recently returned to the neighborhood, and we are so pleased she could join us this evening.”
Anne found herself the focus of five pairs of eyes.
Mrs. Price fixed Anne with a weak watery gaze. “How do you do?” she said. Her memory had been failing for years, and it was clear she did not remember who Anne was.
Mr. Bennett gave Anne a cold stare. “Miss Webster. My condolences on the loss of your father. He was a good neighbor and a true gentleman. He will be greatly missed.”
“Thank you,” Anne said.
“We had heard you had returned. And it was said there was a son…” Mrs. Bennett’s voice trailed off.
“Adopted son,” Mrs. Rutledge said firmly. “And it shows great charity for Miss Webster to have taken on such a responsibility.”
Anne hid a start of surprise. Adopted son? It was the truth, but how had Mrs. Rutledge known? Had Freddie told her? Or had she concocted the explanation on her own?
“But I thought—” Lady Dunne said, then was interrupted by her husband.
“Humph. Adopted son. Very Christian of you,” Sir William said. He was a bluff man, who hid a good heart under his gruff nature. She could see him casting about for an unexceptionable topic. “Have you decided what you will do about the Manor?”
“Not yet,” Anne said.
The others took up the new topic.
“If you are of a mind to sell the property, I would be willing to make you a fair offer,” Mr. Bennett said.
“Whatever you do, don’t rent the property to strangers. You never know what sort of people might want to rent a country house. Why, my cousin allowed her agent to rent her manor house, only to find that he had rented it out to a Cit and his family. They were the most dreadful toad-eating mushrooms, who tried to bull their way into society. My cousin’s neighbors still have not forgiven her,” Lady Dunne said.
“I will remember that,” Anne said, stifling the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Prior to this evening, she would have wagered that the good souls of New Biddeford would have preferred anyone, even the most vulgar of Cits, to her own presence in the neighborhood.
They chatted briefly for a moment more, and then Mrs. Rutledge made their excuses. She continued around the blue salon before guiding Anne into the ballroom and reacquainting her with her former neighbors and introducing her to some of Priscilla’s guests from London. She met the sisters Crane, and Lady Alice, but waited in vain for an introduction to Freddie’s nemesis, Miss Sommersby.
Anne’s trepidation was beginning to fade. No one mentioned Ian or made any reference to the rumors that had circulated. It seemed that the guests were prepared to accept her as Anne Webster, daughter of country gentry, rather than Anne Webster, notorious sinner. She felt only a brief moment of unease when Mrs. Rutledge left to supervise last-minute preparations, but soon found herself chatting with a group of young ladies. It was surprisingly easy. All she had to do was ask about their experiences in London, then smile and nod as they prattled on.
From the corner of her eye she saw a stir in the crowd, and she turned to see Freddie leading his sister into the ballroom.
“Doesn’t she look divine? It’s such a shame her brother is so ordinary,” one of the ladies said.
“He may be ordinary looking, but he is a viscount,” said another.
The ladies giggled in unison.
“I think Lord Frederick is handsome,” Anne said fiercely. “And there is more to measuring a man than his title.”
Her companions stared at her in incomprehension. But any remark they would have made was cut off by the arrival of the gentlemen who had come to claim their partners for the first dance.
Anne had not planned on dancing this evening. It was enough simply to be here and to watch the others. She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing footman, then joined in conversation with another woman who had chosen to sit out the first dance. But she found her attention was not on what the woman was saying; rather, it was on Freddie as he led his sister to the top of the set.
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br /> She could not understand why the girl had referred to Freddie as ordinary. True he was of only average height, but his figure was good, and from one look at his features you could tell that he was a kind person. Indeed, there was nothing to fault in his appearance. He had eschewed the excesses of the dandy set, and favored the simple elegance of a midnight blue coat with dark trousers and a shirt of brilliant white.
The musicians struck up the tune, and Freddie, smiling down upon his sister, took her hand and led her in the first steps of the dance. Seeing them together, Anne wished suddenly that it was she and not Priscilla whose hand lay in his and that it was she who was the object of his smiles.
Eleven
After leading Priscilla out to start the ball, Freddie then partnered Lady Alice Westmoreland, who as a duke’s daughter was the highest ranking of his female guests. He then danced with the oldest Miss Crane, followed by her younger sister, before he danced with the unfortunate Miss Flockhart, whose height made it difficult for her to find partners. Most gentlemen did not wish a dance partner who looked down upon them.
He danced and talked and acted mechanically. Yet a moment later he could not remember what he had said or what the dance had been. All of his attention was fixed on Anne.
He wished that he could go to her, but did not want to create more gossip by showing any undue partiality. Not when they had worked so hard to scotch the rumors. He did not know what story his mother had spread, but whatever she and Elizabeth had concocted was doing the trick.
Or it could be that the arrivals from London had brought with them fresh scandals that were of more interest than old news. The latest on-dit was that a certain duchess had been discovered in bed with her son-in-law, and his guests, while professing themselves shocked, could talk of little else.
Whatever the reason, Anne was enjoying herself. His senses were in tune with her so that he could read her enjoyment in the tilt of her head and in the sparkle of her eyes.
He wondered why she was not dancing. He knew she had had offers—he had seen to it himself. But instead she stayed on the sidelines, apparently content to watch the gaiety. At least she was not alone. She was often in conversation with other ladies, and more than one gentleman chose to sit out a set with her.
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