Constance seemed cheered by this idea, and not even Miss Fallon’s stern reminder about the verbs she ought to have been revising was enough to dampen her jovial mood. Lorelei had always thought they had gone on tolerably enough after their mama’s untimely end – they had had their papa and Lady Hurst and Nell, and many of Baron Ledley’s friends cared for the girls as if they were their own children.
Sometimes, however, Lorelei could not help but feel that Constance in particular, being so very young, still had need of their mother.
Not half an hour after dinner, just as Lorelei’s sister had embarked on a recitation of the ‘avoir’ verb to Miss Fallon, a valet appeared before the ladies to announce that Lady Gilmont and Lady Julia Kinsey had been past Russell Square to leave calling cards for Miss Lorelei and her ladyship.
“They wished to know whether Miss Lorelei would be agreeable to join them to take a turn around the park on Wednesday morning, your ladyship.”
“Oh!” Lorelei exclaimed in delight, “How very good of Lady Julia to invite me! I must write to her at once and accept. If you have no objection, Lady Hurst?”
Lady Hurst assured her that she had none, pleased that Lorelei was making such fine friends. Lorelei hurried up to her room to write a quick reply to Lady Julia. She was very touched that they had thought to invite her, because a brief acquaintance at a party did not necessarily make any further acquaintance an obligation on their part.
She paused a moment, quill pen lifted above the paper, to wonder whether Lord Winbourne would also be in attendance. The thought of driving about the park with him was a decidedly thrilling one. She indulged in a moment’s fancy picturing what it would be like to drive out in his company: surely he would look devastatingly handsome in his sporting phaeton!
Lorelei sternly reminded herself that the real Winbourne was nothing like the golden earl of her imagination. How could that inhuman man be the hero of her midnight adventure? She remembered his cold eyes and suppressed a shiver. Although, if she was honest with herself, it was not only a shiver of dislike.
*
What followed was a busy four days of rout parties and dinners, walks and visits to the theatre. The whole world seemed abuzz with thrills and excitement, and Lorelei was certain she would remember her first Season for the rest of her life.
Lorelei’s favourite part was easily the evening Lady Hurst took the girls to a ballet, which Lorelei had always enjoyed most profoundly and which had her smiling and wiping her eyes by turns. Things were certainly turning out splendidly, she decided, the Earl of Winbourne, for a moment, far from her mind.
It was also not long before Lorelei was firmly on the way to being good friends with Lady Julia Kinsey, since the young ladies often found themselves thrown together at social gatherings, and had soon discovered many common interests. The two of them could often be glimpsed sitting on a park bench together, their parasols held charmingly aloft as they exchanged confidences.
Though she was herself completely unaware of it, Lorelei had also caught the attention of the ton. Her mischievous smile and golden ringlets could not but earn her a loyal following of admirers. The interest in her was bolstered by the marked friendship of Lady Julia, the most eligible heiress of the Season, and of the fashionable Lord Winbourne himself. Gentlemen widely agreed that the luminosity and liveliness of her green eyes was quite incomparable and that her laugh was enough to melt anyone’s heart. Her dress was deemed suitably modest by the sharp eyes of Society matrons and her discreet use of jewellery drew admiration of her fine throat and hands.
She was supposed, quite mistakenly, to be a young woman of modest means, which had earned her an initial snubbing by some of the more high-nosed young debutantes out on the Season. Far from upsetting Lorelei, or making her feel out of place in the glittering company, this mistaken supposition caused her endless amusement.
Lord Ledley, a sensible military man and a widower, had no taste for frivolity, and while his daughters had never wanted for anything, he had always been of the lowest opinion regarding the blatant display of wealth. He was well-received in Society because of his handsome appearance, sound good sense and excellent humour, though he dressed with the modest practicality of a military man.
Though Lorelei was not quite an heiress, her mama had left her and Constance with healthy independences and her papa would provide a respectable wedding portion when such became necessary. Miss Lindon, whatever the other girls may have whispered about her single string of pearls, could look forward to slightly more than four thousand a year.
It had not taken her long to notice the snubbing. When she confided her suspicions to Julia at Mrs Roland’s card party, her eyes sparkling with dark merriment, her friend seemed suitably appalled.
“Oh, no, Lorelei, how can you!” Lady Julia exclaimed, looking anxious. “That cannot be at all right! Why, it would make no difference to me if you hadn’t a guinea to your name in all the world.”
Lorelei smiled at her friend. “But of course not, Julia, for you are the sweetest creature in the world, but the same can hardly be said for Maria Dunn.”
“You are exaggerating, because you are so kind. But I would much rather be elegant and haunted than sweet – one never reads of sweet heroines.” Julia’s pretty round face looked momentarily wistful.
“I am sure many young ladies feel that way. I often do! Miss Fallon, my former governess, was always very strict with such notions, you know. She believes novels rot common sense and destroy character. And I never meant to read them in her lessons – only, one can never quite help it. You might know how it is, when one only means to dip one’s eyes in for a minute and the next thing it is dark out and one cannot stop until the whole mystery has been thoroughly unravelled.”
She was met with nothing but understanding from Julia, whose significant vice at school had been reading novels which her Aunt Eloise had been kind enough to keep sending, despite her mother’s disapproval.
Another personage that could commonly be found lingering somewhere within view was the Earl of Winbourne himself. A man of fashion, birth and wealth, as Lorelei learned from Maria Dunn’s incessant chatter.
He was often surrounded by a band of fellow Corinthians and ardent admirers: young gentlemen barely out of university, hanging eagerly onto his every word and doing their best to copy his elegant dress. In Lorelei’s opinion, none had quite succeeded.
It was not her fault in the least that she spent so much time watching him – one could hardly help it if he was always near-by. Or so she told herself every time she caught her eyes lingering on his strong jawline or alluring mouth.
Lorelei had learned to recognise his mood by the smile with which he chose to grace his current companions. Most often, there was the unmoved, indolent expression with which he gave his harshest set-downs. The sardonic little twist of the lips was always complemented by the unmistakable mockery in the eyes, and it was very rarely that a genuine smile of enjoyment could be glimpsed.
His cultured voice was usually full of a world-weariness which Lorelei thought she would find extremely infuriating were he to direct it at her. She half-wished that he would, simply so that she might have the pleasure of giving him a set-down, but he never did.
His constant presence was thoroughly irritating. Lorelei saw the Earl of Winbourne frequently about town, at the orangerie, the park and at what had to be a thousand dinner parties and musicales. He rarely spoke to her, but when he did, there was always something she could not name in the nuances of his voice. The knowing sparkle in his usually cool green eyes was enough to make her itch to be uncivil even as it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
Lorelei had been successfully ignoring him for some twenty minutes when he unceremoniously joined a conversation about the emerald necklace worn by Princess Charlotte at a concert the previous afternoon, and stood for an entire two minutes with barely a glance at Lorelei before interjecting his opinion.
“For my part, I thought it much too heavy
and not at all the thing,” he said, in that drawling tone, calculated to perfection. “Such things are not well suited to the daytime, even if one should occasion to be going to a concert. Miss Lindon, I see you show a marked favour for very subtle jewellery. I believe I once glimpsed you wearing a very charming moonstone pendant. Surely you would agree?”
Her eyes flew to his and she knew he was baiting her. She wondered if he still had her pendant hidden somewhere about his person. Winbourne thoroughly enjoyed the way her large expressive eyes flashed at him.
She replied in a carefully remote tone, assuring the earl that her taste in fashion could not compare to his, and so she was obliged to defer to his opinion of such things. As soon as she was able, Lorelei took leave of the group, only to feel his eyes raking her form as she made her way over to where Lady Hurst sat with the matrons.
Winbourne continued in this insufferable manner – with little hints and taunts. Soon, Lorelei began to feel an inkling of suspicion that, whatever game he was playing, it had to do with much more than just the pendant. However, she could not for the life of her begin to guess what that game might be.
She suspected that he found her amusing, perhaps because she was a novelty in his world of weary repartee, cravats and toad-eaters. This, however, only served to anger her further, as she was quite sure that the man was toying with her.
*
On Wednesday afternoon, during the Promenade hour, when the crème de la crème of Society could be seen strolling and driving about Hyde Park, Lorelei carefully straightened the pleats on her powder-blue walking gown. The colour suited her complexion remarkably well, and the bright green feather that curled daringly over the poke of her little bonnet brought out the emerald in her eyes.
She was expecting Lady Gilmont and Julia to call so that they might set out for the park. When the Gilmont carriage drew up at Russell Square, Lorelei could not help but be impressed. It was a new and well-made vehicle of lacquered cherry wood, with the Gilmont crest emblazoned proudly on the doors. The two ladies seated within were prettily dressed and Lady Gilmont waved to her with her usual vigour.
“Good morning, Lady Gilmont, Julia,” greeted Lorelei as a footman handed her into the carriage. She was careful not to rumple her skirts as she sat. “Thank you for inviting me to join you – it was most kind.”
Eloise was touched by the girl’s friendly earnestness and bestowed a warm smile upon her. “Nonsense! It is nothing out of the common way to invite a friend to take a turn about the park, and I feel that we have certainly become good friends, don’t you? I do believe that you had better call me Eloise, my dear.”
Lorelei returned the smile. “Then I beg that you call me Lorelei.”
“Will you be attending the bal masque, Lorelei?” Julia asked.
“Yes, certainly. Will you?”
“Oh yes.” Julia did not seem very pleased on that head.
Lady Gilmont laughed. “And now that we have resolved the grave matter of Almack’s, perhaps you will tell us more about yourself, Lorelei? If you can bear to forgive such a direct enquiry, of course.”
Lorelei blushed. “There really isn’t at all much to tell. I have a father, a younger sister named Constance, and a lot of cousins lately in Ireland. I read far too many books of adventure for the liking of my former governess and I deplore country life.”
Eloise laughed. “Do you, indeed? Well, if that isn’t just what Winbourne was saying of himself the last time I tried to cajole him to go down and see Honoria in the country.”
Lorelei felt her shoulders stiffen slightly and forced herself to relax as she asked in a carefully unruffled voice. “Lord Winbourne doesn’t enjoy the country? I was under the impression that he was a keen sportsman.”
“Carts and horses, you mean? Yes, I suppose that he is. He has an excellent seat on a horse and he is a very skilled hunter. He enjoys parties when they are to be held in the country. It is when the hunt is over and one is left to one’s self that he claims the dreary quiet becomes too much to tolerate.”
Lorelei smiled despite herself. “Yes, I find that also. My sister enjoys her stay wherever she may be. She is never without some entertainment. She is clever at the pianoforte and the pencil and paints. I, however, cannot be happy in the country for many days together. One misses the liveliness of London, especially in the winter, when one is often obliged to withdraw.”
Eloise was watching Lorelei with an expression she found very hard to read, and for some reason this made her slightly uneasy.
“Do you ride at all, Lorelei?” asked Julia in her quiet, reserved voice.
“Why, yes, as often as I can. Papa was very determined that we learn to sit a horse. I’ve even brought my horse, Tulip, out of the country. I did not wish to burden Lady Hurst but she would not hear of my leaving her. My sister, however, is a deplorably cautious rider, and will not go above a canter if she can possibly help it.”
“Then you will think very poorly of my riding!” Julia said, “I am rather frightened of horses and mother’s riding tutors could never convince me that I wouldn’t topple right off if I should ever risk a faster pace.”
Eloise straightened a sleeve. “As I recall, it was always tears with you, my dear. Whenever your mama instructed you to dress for another lesson.”
“You are a very fine rider, and cannot understand,” Julia defended almost spiritedly, drawn out of herself by the easy conversation.
Lorelei was very sorry that Julia should feel that way about horses. She wondered if it would be proper to speak up, not wishing to accidentally offend her new friends. But it had never been in her nature to be meek and so she gave Julia one of her direct looks.
“If you wish, and this may not be quite the thing, in which case I do beg your pardon, but I could attempt to teach you. I am no teacher, of course, but I used to help Constance, and though she will never be what you call a fine rider, she is no longer afraid of horses either. She used to be once – as girl she had tried to give Papa’s stallion a sugar cube, and she swears to this day that the poor beast almost bit her.”
Julia looked uncertain, evidently having no wish to have any more to do with horses than was absolutely necessary.
Eloise looked intrigued by Lorelei’s offer. “What an interesting thought! It would have to be somewhere private, of course. Hyde Park or some such public place would never do. But learning with a friend would not be at all like your previous lessons, my love,” she said to Julia, an encouraging smile lighting her face. “How kind it is of Lorelei to make such an offer.”
Julia did not look quite convinced, but she found herself swept up in Eloise’s compelling smile and agreed softly to the proposition, thanking Lorelei. Lorelei guiltily felt a secret thrill at the thought that seeing more of Julia would likely mean seeing more of Lord Winbourne also.
“You will soon be quite out of patience with me, you know,” Julia warned, with a soft smile.
“I promise you I won’t! I never was with Constance and she is my sister, which means she gave a lot more reason to be out of patience with her.”
“Oh, how wonderful!” exclaimed Eloise. “And I know just what we shall do. We will all go down to Gilmont for a week or two. It is just outside of London. Provided, of course, your Lady Hurst does not object, Lorelei, which she may do, because no doubt she wishes you to attend properly to the Season. But perhaps she will agree that two weeks will do no harm, and I will even promise to invite other suitable company. We can go down the week after the bal masque.”
Lorelei was filled with excitement at these marvellous plans.
Once arrangements had been sorted out, they returned to topics of much more immediate interest.
“Now, my dears, you must tell me what you thought of that fiery gown on the first page of Ladies’ Emporium. Was it not a shocking sight? I can’t imagine whose complexion it is meant to suit. And to have it trimmed with pearls…”
It was a lovely afternoon and Lorelei could not help but grow even mor
e enthusiastic about the prospect of a whole week away with her new friends – and maybe even the earl of Winbourne himself!
Chapter 4
The next time Lorelei returned to Hyde Park, it was to walk Sirius, who did not appreciate being on a lead and always made this clear by dragging her after him.
It was early yet, for Lady Hurst had insisted that it would not do to walk Sirius during the fashionable Promenade hour. They could, she said, return to ride or walk after five in the evening, but it was not de rigeur for ladies to walk such large dogs in front of the finest members of the ton. The objective, after all, was to be seen at one’s best.
Lorelei had to admit that she did not look very graceful, dragged around by Sirius, but that it was well worth it because he was such fun. Constance was amused at her sister’s plight. Nell, who had come along though the girls had tried to convince her it was quite unnecessary, was disapproving.
“Really, Miss Lorelei, I beg you to consider the picture you are presenting to all these people of quality!” exclaimed the maid. “It is most unbecoming for a young lady to be dragged all around the park by such a monstrous hound!”
“Oh, don’t fuss so, Nell,” Lorelei said comfortingly. “I am sure no one cares a whit that I am walking my dog. I know you’d much rather I get a lapdog, but I am not any sort of ninnyhammer, nor yet so far in my dotage that I cannot handle Sirius.”
“It seems to me that it is Sirius who is handling you, Lorelei,” laughed Constance, while attempting to maintain a hold on her parasol and keep up with her sister. Constance always enjoyed the park.
“Yes, well, do remember that he will expect you to walk him while I’m away at Gilmont,” Lorelei pointed out with a twinkling smile.
The Scoundrel's Secret Siren Page 5