The Aim Of A Lady

by Laura Matthews

  Diana sighed and rose to dress for dinner. She should never have insisted on removing the arrow. That was at the root of all their problems, she suspected. She had shamed Alma and today’s events were an attempt, though unconscious probably, to prove his power over her, to show that his masculinity was dominant in spite of all her petty tyrannies.

  The five people who sat down to dinner that evening were rather subdued. Mrs. Lewis had learned that Lord Alma was leaving and she supposed that she would no longer be needed at the Park. George had told Alonna only that there was a bit of tension between Alma and Diana again, and the two themselves were enough to make even George cringe. Alma treated Diana with the deference he might have shown his own grandmother, and Diana acted as though she were. It would have been very amusing to George if it had not been so pathetic. Their performance continued through the evening, even to the songs they chose to sing, lugubrious numbers with no life to them. George felt a profound sense of relief when Diana announced that she was going to bed.

  She was tempted to stay in bed the next morning and allow Alma to leave without her saying good-bye, but she did not do so. She and George and Alonna were there to see him climb into his carriage. With due gravity, Alma thanked Diana for her attention to him during his stay, and she responded that it had been her pleasure.

  When the carriage with Crusader tied behind was out of sight she had her mare saddled and took a long ride. On her return George invited her to come with him to Trafford Hall, where he would stay for a few days before heading for London to speak with Alonna’s father.

  “I thought you might like to stay on at the Hall with me,” Alonna suggested, “since most of your friends are not here. George will only be there a few days.”

  Diana considered the possibility and at length agreed to it, for George would not stay long in London, but would wish to return to the Park to set things in motion for its new mistress. When George had left them alone Diana and Alonna discussed the changes George had suggested in the suite which would be his wife’s.

  “George has told you that I intend to move to the Dower House, has he not?” Diana asked.

  “Why should you do that? There is plenty of room here, certainly,” Alonna protested.

  “Yes, I know, but I have always thought that a newly married couple should have their house to themselves. I shall not mind, you know. I rode over to the Dower House the other day to inspect it. It has not been occupied in years and I have an itch to start work on it.”

  “But this is your home, and has been all your life.”

  “Then it’s high time I made a change,” Diana replied with a grin.

  “I wish you would not,” Alonna said sadly. “I shall feel as though I have driven you out.”

  “Don’t be a goose!” Diana hugged the younger woman. “I shall be here more than you wish, no doubt.”

  “No, I shall be happy to have you around any time ... well, almost any time,” Alonna confessed with a blush.

  “Alonna, George suggested I speak with you about the desire women feel for men, but I do not wish to embarrass you. When I have tried to talk with my friends they do not seem to wish to speak of it.”

  “I’m sure I would have found the same, my dear, but I have several sisters who have been married for some years and they did not wish me to be so innocent as they had been, so we have discussed it often. I was shy about it at first but they persisted, telling me that the more I understood about physical relations between men and women the more I would be able to cope with men and eventually marriage.”

  “Do you think it’s natural for a woman to experience desire for a man sometimes?” Diana asked hesitantly.

  “I hope so,” Alonna laughed. “My sisters married men they loved and they are not ashamed to admit that they feel desire for their husbands. I had not understood so well until I met George.”

  “But you have never felt desire for someone you did not love?” Diana asked.

  Alonna’s eyes twinkled. “I would not say that. I have met some very charming rascals who were ... exciting.”

  Diana heaved a sigh of relief and smiled at her friend. “Yes, I suppose that is true. I’m glad we talked, Alonna.”

  * * * *

  Their stay at Trafford Park was more pleasurable than Diana had expected. George was welcomed by his old acquaintances and she herself was adopted by them into a round of morning calls and dinner parties. Although George had insisted that she dress her best for their stay, Diana was not reluctant. The announcement of Alonna’s engagement to Vallert had not been retracted, as that young man had refused to be intimidated by her threat. Since George was eager to set the matter straight, and to receive Lord Franston’s permission to wed his daughter, he suggested after a few days that he should leave for London.

  Margaret had considered the possibility of her father being stubborn and said, “I think you should go with him, Alonna. I feel sure Papa will not refuse his permission if you are there.”

  “I do not expect any trouble with Papa,” Alonna retorted. “I am sure one man is just as well as another to him so long as I am safely married off soon.”

  “No doubt, but I think it would be wisest. You have never been seen with Vallert since the announcement, and it will lend credit to your version of the matter if you are seen with George.”

  “True. Do you wish me to come, George?” she asked, turning to him.

  George had been leaning against the mantelpiece listening to their discussion and it had suggested an idea to him. “Yes, I think it would be wise. I should like Diana to come, too.”

  Diana turned a startled gaze to her brother. “Me? Why ever do you want me to come?”

  “For several reasons, my dear. Many of your friends are there already. It will be sadly dull at the Park right now, and you will need to choose some clothes for my wedding,” he reminded her glibly.

  “Do come, Diana,” Alonna urged. “London is quite active at this time of year and we can go to the theatre and to balls and ride in the park.” Alonna hugged her friend and whispered in her ear, “I could use your support, love. Please say you will come.”

  A strange mixture of emotions had engulfed Diana when George suggested that she accompany them. Her natural reluctance to face the stilted style of society was tempered by a strong desire to indulge in the sophisticated pastimes just this once. Her freedom at the Park was all very well and entertaining, but she was curious to see another way of life, one which both George and Alonna, not such very different people than she, seemed to enjoy wholeheartedly. She no longer really feared that she was Incorrigibly Loose, either, and her previous refusal had been largely based on that premise and maintained willy-nilly in the face of any contrary evidence. But Alma would be there, and she was not sure she wanted to see him. “Very well, I should like to come,” she agreed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After conveying Alonna to her father’s, and leaving word that he wished to speak with Lord Franston, George settled his sister in his town house. Diana had seldom been in London and then for only a few days each time, and she agreed to take her maid with her to the modiste George recommended while he settled his business.

  Lord Franston had been browbeaten by his daughter into accepting an interview with George, and was in no good humor when the younger man arrived. Franston waved him carelessly to a well-worn leather chair and seated himself impatiently at his desk.

  “I have come to ask your permission to wed your daughter,” George said politely.

  “So she says,” Franston grumbled. “Seems to make no difference to her that she is already engaged to Vallert.”

  “I think you are well aware that she never consented to marry Vallert, Lord Franston. I am surprised that you did not have the announcement refuted.”

  “No reason she should not marry him. Perfectly good fellow.”

  “But she does not wish to marry him, and it is inconceivable to me that you can call a man who falsely announces his engagement a perfec
tly good fellow.”

  “I had given him my permission to marry her.”

  “It is customary to have the woman’s permission as well.”

  “It will cause a great to-do to change things now,” the old man muttered.

  “I think you can safely leave that to me, sir. Do I have your permission to marry Alonna?”

  “Vallert has a title,” Franston said slyly.

  George refused to give him the satisfaction of informing him that one day in the future, when his recluse bachelor uncle died, he also would have a title. “It does not seem to have won him any influence with your daughter.”

  “I won’t force her to marry him,” Franston conceded grudgingly.

  “I am pleased to hear it. We had in mind to wed in two months time, sir, and I should like to announce our engagement now.”

  “Oh, very well. If she wishes to wed you I will not stand in the way, but see that there is no scandal, Savile. Vallert is a hot-tempered fellow, very unpredictable.”

  “I appreciate your caution, Lord Franston.” George rose from his chair and offered his hand to his prospective father-in-law, who shook it unenthusiastically.

  “Take care of her. She’s not a bad chit,” Franston mumbled.

  “I shall do my best,” George promised.

  Alonna was awaiting her fiancé in a small room off the hall and George went to assure her that all was well. She regarded him quizzingly and asked, “He did not raise a fuss?”

  “Very little. He told me to take care of you.”

  “Did he?” Alonna’s eyes softened. “That was kind of him.”

  “Very proper,” George agreed solemnly as he kissed her. “I must see Vallert now. Your father does not wish any to-do.”

  “Nor do I, George. Do not let Vallert embroil you,” she pleaded gravely.

  “Trust me, love,” he grinned.

  “I wish you would be serious.”

  “I am serious,” he protested as he kissed her nose.

  She sighed, despairing of impressing him with the importance of his mission. “Will I see you later?”

  “I hope you will join my sister and me for the theatre, Miss Sanfield.”

  “I should be delighted, Mr. Savile.”

  “Excellent. Until later, my dear.”

  Lord Vallert’s lodgings were in James Street and George had the good fortune to find his lordship at home.

  Each day Vallert had checked the papers, with a growing confidence as no retraction appeared. He was smug in facing Alonna’s other suitor. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit, Savile?”

  “I wanted you to be one of the first to hear of my engagement,” George replied blithely.

  “No, really? To whom have you become engaged?”

  “To Miss Alonna Sanfield.”

  Vallert’s face darkened dangerously and he rasped. “Your jest is not in good taste, Savile. You must be aware that I am engaged to Miss Sanfield.”

  “She does not seem to agree with you, for she has consented to be my wife, and her father has obligingly granted his permission.”

  “I shall call you out for this!”

  “No, I don’t think so. I have undertaken to handle the matter with as little fuss as possible, and I cannot consider a duel as unattended by notoriety.”

  When Vallert made to strike him in the usual manner of a challenge, George caught his hand in a grip of steel. “You have no one but yourself to blame for the mess you’re in, Vallert. You have caused Miss Sanfield a great deal of distress, for which I find it very difficult to forgive you. In an effort to see the matter amicably settled, however, I am willing to offer you some assistance. The day after tomorrow the announcement of our engagement will appear. I suggest that you attend the theatre with. Miss Sanfield, my sister and myself this evening.”

  “You are mad!”

  “Hardly. I am offering you a way to save face, you young gudgeon. If you are seen to be on satisfactory terms with us it will not be so difficult for you. A misunderstanding; Miss Sanfield’s affections were previously engaged. If you persist in your perfidy I shall have no recourse but to expose you, which I am not in the least loath to do.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Vallert blurted uncertainly.

  George’s eyes blazed for a moment before he replied calmly, “It is your privilege to wait and see, Vallert, but the results will not be to your liking. In the end I shall wed Miss Sanfield. Do you go to the theatre with us?”

  Vallert clenched his hands at his sides but replied, “Very well, Savile.”

  Their group at the theatre caused no little comment. George made it perfectly clear that he was with Alonna, who had not been overly enthusiastic about including Vallert in their party but agreed that it was perhaps a wise move. The burden of Vallert’s presence, however, rested on Diana and she was predisposed to dislike him. He did nothing to disillusion her but rather reminded her disagreeably of Frank Edwards, who arrived at their box during the first intermission amidst expressions of astonishment at seeing Diana in town. She denied him leave to call on her, which merely made him sulk, but did not make him leave the box. When the second act was about to begin, George finally sent him away.

  Vallert, intrigued by Diana’s beauty and her handling of her suitor, began to make an effort to attract her, which was more disagreeable to her than his previous sullenness. She remained distantly polite and welcomed the arrival of the Dodges and Barsetts at the second intermission. There was barely time to greet them before George’s friend Cranmer arrived to be presented to Diana, whom he had noticed from his box across the way. Considering the amount of chatter in the box sufficient cover for his remark, he said to George, “You cannot seriously expect me to believe that your sister shot Ellis with an arrow.” His eyes rested admiringly on Diana; Cranmer was a connoisseur.

  Mockingly, George agreed that it was highly improbable, and rewarded his friend by introducing him to his sister. Diana had not heard the remark and greeted him politely. Cranmer murmured conversationally, “I understand you are interested in archery, Miss Savile.”

  “I am interested in many things, Mr. Cranmer,” she replied, her eyes twinkling.

  “So am I. We must discuss them sometime. May I call on you tomorrow?” He was laughing at her, but not unkindly, and she agreed.

  When the box had cleared for the third act Diana happened to glance down and she saw Alma seated with a beautiful young woman who was very elegantly dressed.

  Diana immediately turned her eyes to the stage, since she had no desire to exchange nods with him, or to be thought interested in his presence. She did not glance in his direction again.

  * * * *

  Several days previously Lord Alma had arrived in London tired and sore. He determinedly put the events of the previous two weeks out of his mind and reverted to his normal good-natured, gallant behavior. There were several invitations in the stack of cards awaiting his attention which he set aside as being of interest, the others he dismissed. He took four letters with him when he went to his study and read them at his leisure while he sipped at a glass of wine, standing up. The hours in the carriage had been aggravatingly painful in spite of frequent stops.

  Two of the letters bore the same handwriting, and he remembered, with a grimace, telling George politely that he had no pressing engagements in London. Fanny’s first letter was a cheerful greeting; she expected to see him any day now. Her second letter was a trifle testy, he thought with amusement. It was really too late then to do anything about it, but he scribbled an explanation and a request to call on her, and handed it to a footman to be delivered the next morning.

  There was a reply on the tray with the silver chocolate pot when he awoke in the morning. Fanny considered it most unlikely that she would forgive him, but he might try to convince her if he called at three. Alma smiled as he sipped at his chocolate. There were many advantages to a woman such as Fanny, who maintained her own house and was very selective in her clients. She had been bequeathed a st
aggering sum on the death of an admiring elderly gentleman, and she was more pleasure-loving than greedy. Not that her companionship was given without cost (she had a respectable opinion of her worth); but she was not forever beseeching one for a new gown or a necklace. Her services came with a fixed price, no extras. Alma presented himself, impeccably dressed, at three.

  Fanny received him in her parlor. “You are looking very well, Ellis ... for someone who has been laid up in the country for two weeks with an injury.”

  Alma grasped her hands and kissed each in turn. His eyes mischievous he said, “I shall show you my wound if you like.”

  “I have a feeling you would be only too happy to do so,” she retorted as she patted the seat beside her on the sofa.

  He seated himself, thought better of taking her in his arms immediately, and replied, “Yes, it is in a most intriguing spot. I assure you, lovely Fanny, that I only arrived in London last evening and wrote you first thing. I slept with your letters next my heart,” he added soulfully.

  “So flattering,” she mocked. “Your wound must not be near your heart.”

  “No, no, I assure you it is not. Shall I show it to you?” he asked eagerly, his eyes dancing.

  “No, naughty boy, you shall not. I have not decided yet to forgive you.”

  “How may I convince you, my dear? Shall I beg you on my knees or fight a duel for you?” He gave convincing demonstrations of his skills in both.

  Fanny was entertained by his high spirits and evident delight in being with her again. She held out a hand to him where he stood mock-penitent before her and he pulled her into his arms. His kiss and the evidence of his passion were so obvious that when he picked her up in his arms she laughed and said, “You have been without for some time, Ellis.”