The Chocolate Debutante

by M C Beaton

  Susan took her resentment about King Arthur’s castle back to the ballroom. Her hand was claimed for the waltz by Sir Thomas Jeynes. He tried to flirt with her, but those blue eyes only looked vaguely up at him.

  “Is something troubling you?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is,” said Susan forthrightly. “That wonderful King Arthur’s castle is not for eating! Pooh, it is so ridiculous. I would have loved a piece.”

  “It is well known that the marchioness likes to display the confectioner’s art without serving any. Did you not have enough to eat?”

  “No,” said Susan bluntly. “I asked nice Mr. Courtney to try to get me a piece, but he could not.”

  “You should not ask callow youths to help you.”

  “Meaning you can?” Her eyes sparkled.

  “After this dance, instead of joining the promenade, we will repair to the dining room and you may eat your fill.”

  “And what will the marchioness say?”

  “She will not be there.”

  “Perhaps King Arthur’s castle has been removed?”

  “I doubt it. Most of the servants leave to have their own supper.”

  “And you are not afraid of abetting me in such a venture?”

  “I am afraid of nothing.”

  As soon as the last strains of the waltz died away, they walked together to the dining room.

  There was no one else there. Sir Thomas gave his wolfish grin and waved an expansive arm toward the castle.

  “All yours, dear lady.”

  He expected it to be a sort of girlish prank. Miss Colville would eat one of the little figures and giggle a bit at her temerity and then they would return to the ballroom before their absence had been remarked on.

  But Susan pulled forward a chair and sat down in front of the castle and rubbed her little hands. She carefully lifted up Sir Lancelot and ate him. “Delicious,” she murmured.

  Sir Thomas watched amazed as little figure after little figure disappeared into that rosebud mouth. It was when Susan began on the battlements that he became worried. “I think we should return,” he said.

  Susan paid him not the slightest bit of attention. Sir Thomas strolled to the door of the dining room and looked out. He saw that although sets were forming for a quadrille, Susan’s aunt, Miss Tremayne, was saying something to that rat Dangerfield, and they were looking his way. He quickly reentered the ballroom and asked a young lady to dance.

  “Where can she be?” Harriet was asking the earl. She turned to Charles Courtney, who was in the same set, and asked, “Have you seen my niece?”

  “Not since supper.” Charles hesitated and then said in a rush, “I disappointed her dreadfully.”

  “How so?”

  “Miss Colville wished to taste the centerpiece, but it is for show only.”

  Harriet turned to the earl. “You must forgive me, my lord. I must stop Susan.”

  “The centerpiece?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will come with you.”

  They walked together into the dining room.

  “You have to admire an appetite like that,” declared the earl.

  There was very little of the centerpiece left.

  Susan was dreamily shoving a little drawbridge into her mouth when Harriet walked up to her.

  “Susan! How could you be such a pig? How could you disgrace yourself so thoroughly?”

  Susan smiled angelically at them. “It was for eating.”

  Harriet took out a handkerchief and dipped it into a jug of water, and taking Susan’s face firmly by the chin, scrubbed all the sugar crumbs from it.

  Then she looked at the earl. “There will be an outcry when this is discovered. What am I to do?”

  “Take Miss Colville back to the ballroom immediately. Go along. I will think of something.”

  Harriet hustled Susan off. The earl looked about him. Then he saw that the fire in the large fireplace at the end of the room was burning low but the embers were hot. He lifted the remains of the centerpiece on its base and thrust the whole thing into the glowing embers. When it had started to burn, he took several logs from the log basket and piled them on top. Better it should have disappeared entirely than be found to have been eaten.

  Harriet sat next to Susan and lectured her, ending up with, “And you simply walked in there by yourself and ate the whole thing?”

  “No,” said Susan sleepily. “That nice Sir Thomas Jeynes took me in.”

  “Sir Thomas is a bad man and you are to have nothing more to do with him. It was a wicked and silly thing to do, and unless Dangerfield can arrange things and if Sir Thomas talks about it, there will be a scandal and you will be damned as greedy. My stars! Debutantes are supposed to eat hardly anything.”

  Harriet then looked up in surprise, for Lord Moulton was once more asking her to dance, followed by several men who were obviously hoping for a dance with Susan.

  Susan watched her aunt go and then smiled radiantly on her courtiers. “I cannot dance,” she said. “I must repair a rip to my gown.”

  She made her way out of the ballroom and ran lightly down the stairs. The hall was temporarily empty of servants. She pushed open a door and found herself in a rather dark anteroom, the sort of room used for dealing with tradespeople. But it boasted a black horsehair-filled sofa. With a sigh she stretched out on it, put her thumb in her mouth, and fell fast asleep.

  And that was where Lord Dangerfield found her after being appealed to by a frantic Harriet.

  He shook her awake. “Come along, Miss Colville,” he said. “Time to rejoin the dance. Are you trying to frighten your aunt to death?”

  “I was so tired,” moaned Susan.

  “I have no doubt you were, having gorged yourself like a serpent.”

  “Why do you look at me so angrily?” asked Susan, getting to her feet. “I have never known a gentleman to be angry with me before.”

  “Perhaps because I am immune to your beauty, miss.”

  “But not to my aunt’s?”

  “You think your aunt beautiful?”

  “She is not beautiful, but she has become extremely attractive,” said Susan, stifling a yawn. “I thought it was the new clothes, but her eyes are very fine, do you not think?”

  “Yes, miss, very fine.”

  “Are you going to marry her?”

  “I am weary of the Season before it has begun. I do not think I shall marry anyone.”

  “Oh, what a pity you do not want Aunt Harriet. But there are plenty of men who do,” said Susan.

  That artless remark irritated the earl. He thought Harriet was indifferent to him. He had not considered that she might be attracted to someone else, and began to feel angry with her.

  The sharp eyes of Sir Thomas Jeynes watched them enter the ballroom together. So that was Dangerfield’s interest! His brain began to work busily. He still wanted revenge on Dangerfield because of that old humiliation, and perhaps if he thought hard, he could get at him through Miss Susan Colville.

  Harriet dressed very carefully in preparation for calls the following day. Surely Dangerfield would come in person. It was the custom for gentlemen to make calls on the ladies they had danced with the night before. On the other hand, some of them contented themselves with sending a servant with a card.

  She tried to put the earl out of her mind. He could not be interested in her. Susan looked the image of his Griselda. Therefore it followed that he meant to get her to favor him so that she would accept his suit when he asked her permission to pay his addresses to her niece.

  She went to Susan’s bedchamber, where the maid was brushing the girl’s hair. “Susan,” she said, sitting down next to her, “are you interested in Lord Dangerfield?”

  “I am not really interested in anyone, Aunt. I thought Mr. Courtney was pleasant but such a rabbit. I asked him to get me some of that centerpiece and he would not.”

  “That was not the act of a rabbit, that was the act of a gentleman.” Harriet sounded every bit
as exasperated as she felt. “Thanks to Lord Dangerfield’s quick wits, remnants of the centerpiece were found in the fireplace and the act was blamed on some young bucks who had had too much to drink and fortunately could not remember exactly what they had been doing. Susan, if you get a reputation for being greedy, then no beauty of yours will make you appear attractive. No more chocolates or sweetmeats. The servants have been told not to buy you any. I want your pin money… now!”

  “But how can I enjoy myself without sugar plums?”

  “Very easily. Now, hurry and make ready. Our callers should be arriving soon.”

  Susan surrendered her pin money. “Dangerfield is already weary of London and has decided not to get married after all,” she said. A shadow passed over Harriet’s face. Susan felt slightly guilty at having hurt her, for she was sure her aunt was attracted by the earl, but Aunt Harriet deserved to be punished a little for having cut off the supply of sweets, and after all, she had only repeated what the earl himself had said.

  So when Lord Dangerfield arrived, it was to find Harriet’s drawing room full of gentlemen callers and to be welcomed by a very subdued Harriet, who did not pay him any particular attention. He felt offended. He deserved better than this. Had he not rescued Susan from disgrace? And so he flirted amiably with Susan and stayed only for ten minutes before taking his leave.

  Every bit of Harriet’s body was aware of his departure. She continued to smile and talk and pour tea. And all the while she thought how she had so recently looked forward to returning to her old life when the Season was over.

  After the callers had left, she felt all she wanted to do was lie down with a cologne-soaked towel on her forehead and forget about the earl, the Season, and Susan, but her butler entered and said, “Sir Thomas Jeynes to see you, madam.”

  “We are not at home.”

  The butler bowed and left. He returned after a few minutes and said apologetically, “Sir Thomas knows you are at home, madam, and humbly begs a chance to offer his apologies.”

  Harriet was suddenly too weary to argue. “Send him up.”

  Sir Thomas entered the drawing room bearing a large bouquet of flowers. He had wondered whether to bring a large box of chocolates for Susan but had decided that after the girl’s eating of the centerpiece such a present would not be welcome. He bowed low.

  “Miss Tremayne, I am come to offer you my humble apologies for having encouraged your niece in the folly of eating the centerpiece. But she begged so prettily. Do not look daggers at me, ma’am. You surely know how persuasive your niece’s beauty can be. Is there anything I can do to make amends?”

  “Just do not encourage her in any such prank again,” said Harriet.

  She sat down. He flipped up the long tails of his coat and sat down opposite her, placing the large bouquet on a side table. “But in faith, madam, you must realize that I expected her to eat only one of the little figures. It was when she started on the battlements that I took fright.”

  He looked at her in such comical dismay that Harriet began to laugh. “She is a truly dreadful child. Yes, I accept your apology, Sir Thomas.”

  “That is good. I have another request. Do you go to the opera this evening?”

  “Yes, sir, both Miss Colville and myself plan to attend.”

  “Would you do me the very great honor of allowing me to escort you?”

  “You are too kind. But young Mr. Courtney has offered to escort us.”

  “I see the faint light of old scandal behind your beautiful eyes. You have heard the on-dit of my duel with Dangerfield? I thought so. It is old history, Miss Tremayne. You must feel the duties of bringing out an unconventional miss such as Miss Colville onerous. I am a man of the world and could lend you my experience in order to steer the young lady away from unsuitable men.”

  “Sir, if you are interested in courting Miss Colville yourself…”

  “Heaven forbid! She is the fairest thing that London has seen this age but too immature for a man of my years.” He grinned at her. “Confess, you would dearly like some help.”

  If she turned up at the opera with Sir Thomas, then perhaps that might annoy Lord Dangerfield, and she did so want to annoy him. Besides, this Sir Thomas was attractive and amusing. What was so very bad about that duel over the mistress, a mistress that she was sure Dangerfield still had in keeping?

  She smiled at Sir Thomas. “I am delighted to accept your escort.”

  He strolled home, feeling well satisfied with himself. The route to Susan’s greedy little heart was through Harriet. If he could ruin the girl in some way, then he would get even with Dangerfield.

  He had just reached his house when he heard himself being hailed. He turned around.

  Verity Palfrey was beckoning to him from a closed carriage. He walked over to her.

  “And what can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I need your help,” she said. “Dangerfield never calls on me. I want to know why.”

  “And why should I tell you? Why should I not want to see you suffer?”

  “Because,” said Verity, “you want to make Dangerfield suffer, do you not? And I can help you to do it!”

  Chapter Five

  Sir Thomas looked at her curiously. “How can you do it?”

  “I swear, if you can get that little simpering miss to lose her heart to you, then he will turn to me.”

  “That is my part. What is yours?”

  “I am invited to the Debenhams’ picnic in the Surrey fields tomorrow. I have ascertained that this Susan is invited. You go, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “I shall befriend the young miss.”

  “Difficult. That dragon who chaperones her, her aunt, will drop a word in her ear.”

  “Believe me, before that the damage will have been done. Then the field will lie open for you to find the way to her heart.”

  “I already know the way to Miss Susan’s heart.”

  “That being?”

  “Chocolate.”

  If one has never been in love before, then it is difficult to recognize the beast when it comes along. Such was the state of Harriet’s mind. When she had vaguely thought about being in love, she had imagined it a gentle thing, a growing respect and mutual admiration between two people. And so she did not recognize her feelings for Lord Dangerfield as love, this odd mixture of pain and distrust. Not being normally of a jealous nature, she did not recognize, either, in her determination that he was unsuitable for Susan, a desire to have him for herself.

  She told Susan that Charles Courtney was to drive them to the picnic, and Susan gave a pink yawn and looked indifferent. Harriet had never attended a fashionable picnic and fondly imagined it would be an informal affair, sitting on the grass and eating simple food.

  But Lord and Lady Debenham preferred, like most of the aristocracy, to tame the countryside into a semblance of a comfortable dining room, and so tables were set up on the grass by the river and there were just as many servants to wait upon them as there would have been in the town house, and the fare was sumptuous.

  Lord Dangerfield was there, and so, Harriet noticed with a sinking sensation, was his mistress, Verity Palfrey, the lady she had seen at the Hyde Park toll. The day was unusually sultry and hot for early summer. Harriet picked at her food and tried hard not to look at Verity Palfrey. Sir Thomas Jeynes was there as well.

  Harriet eyed him speculatively. He had been good company at the opera. She had danced with him at the ball after the performance. But that had not prompted Lord Dangerfield to approach her or even to speak to her. She had hoped he might have been moved to warn her against his one-time rival. He had danced with Susan—twice—and had made her laugh, but when Harriet had asked Susan what he had talked about, what he had said to make her laugh, lazy Susan only looked blank and said she could not remember. She was seated a little away from Harriet beside young Courtney, and they appeared to be getting along famously. What was up with the boy? fretted Harriet. Why couldn’t he propose and get t
he whole nightmare of this Season over with?

  She forced herself to talk to her admirer, young Lord Moulton, who was next to her. When the meal ended, people began to rise and walk along by the riverbank.

  Verity Palfrey covertly watched Susan, hoping for a chance to speak to the girl alone. And then suddenly she saw her chance. Sir Thomas had approached Harriet and asked her to walk with him; Susan had seen an unfinished chocolate pudding on another table and had promptly forgotten all about Charles and was heading in that direction with a single-minded gleam in her beautiful eyes. Verity moved quickly to her side. “Miss Colville?”