Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand

by Meg Alexander

  “That is for Dan,” Perry joked. “He has a famous appetite.”

  “I doubt if you’ll refuse it, my dear,” his mother reproved. “And nor will Lord Rainham or Sebastian. Miss Grantham, we don’t stand on ceremony today. May I tempt you into trying a little of this dish?”

  Elizabeth smiled her thanks, but she refused in favour of the pink and succulent ham, together with some salad. Then Perry approached her with a glass of wine.

  “Champagne, Elizabeth? This is to celebrate your safe arrival in this country.”

  As she took it from him, the others raised their glasses to her. She looked at their smiling faces, and felt a flow of warmth. At that moment, she longed for nothing more than to become a member of this happy family. If only she might be loved and cherished as Prudence was. Would such joy be always beyond her reach?

  “The Gardens, Mama?” Prudence jumped to her feet when the meal was over.

  “Presently, my love. I see you’ve been collecting bread. Don’t you wish to feed the swans?” She and Mrs Aveton settled down to chat.

  Prudence walked down to the river-bank and tossed scraps to the huge birds.

  “We should have brought Thomas,” she murmured to Sebastian in a wistful tone. “He would have enjoyed it so.”

  “St James’s Park is far enough for him,” Sebastian said comfortingly. “Dearest, you know that he does not travel well...”

  “I know. I’m being foolish, I expect.” Prudence looked up at her husband, and the loving glance which passed between them made Elizabeth look away. To speak to either at such a moment would have been an intrusion. She moved away.

  Then Perry came to join her, bearing a napkin filled with broken rolls. “Shall you care to feed these monsters?” he enquired.

  Elizabeth backed away, but she was laughing. “I don’t think so. They are beautiful, or course, but those weaving heads remind me of serpents, and they are so close to us. Are they powerful?”

  “The wings can break a man’s arm. We’d best keep an eye on Dan. When something attracts his attention he is oblivious to danger.”

  He glanced along the river-bank to where Chris and Judith Aveton were standing by a small craft. “Where is the boy? I don’t see him, do you?”

  Sebastian hailed his brother. “Does Miss Grantham wish to see the Gardens, Perry?”

  “Go ahead! We’ll follow you. I’ll tell the others...”

  He took Elizabeth’s arm and began to hurry her away towards the river-craft. “Drat the lad! I bet he’s gone aboard that vessel.”

  Elizabeth was the first to see Dan’s flaming head, though it was at an odd angle.

  “Blest if he ain’t hanging out over the water.” Perry quickened his pace. His shout brought Dan back to dry land, but the lad was unabashed by Perry’s warnings.

  He sat down on the grass, took a notebook from his pocket, and began to draw.

  “We’ve lost him now,” Perry announced. “We shan’t hear another word until he’s worked it out.” He turned, took Elizabeth’s arm, and began to retrace his steps.

  “What is he doing?” she asked.

  “Some detail of the boat’s construction must have caught his fancy. He had always a passion for such things, even as a child.”

  “I’ve left him to it.” Chris caught up with them. “Miss Aveton says that she will bear him company.”

  “Just as long as she ain’t hoping for much conversation.” Perry glanced back at the couple. Judith was also seated on the grass, but she gazed ahead of her in silence.

  She was an unusual person, Elizabeth decided. There was a contained quality in her manner... something which made her seem remote at times. Was she happy? Perhaps. Not everyone needed the stimulation of a crowd.

  Perry led Elizabeth through the great iron gates and into the grounds of Kew. Ahead of her she could see the others in the distance, but he seemed to be in no hurry to catch up with them.

  Chris looked at the faces of his two companions and left them to walk over to the lake, aware that tact was called for in this situation.

  Elizabeth knew the reason for his sudden departure and it made her feel embarrassed. She quickened her pace.

  “In a hurry?” Perry murmured. “I thought you wished to see the plants...”

  “I do, of course!” She coloured, only too conscious of the massive arm which held her to his side. “What is this? Do you know the name?” She pointed to a clump of yellow flowers.

  “Dandelions!” he said promptly.

  “They are no such thing!” Elizabeth repressed a strong desire to giggle. “The King would not cultivate weeds.”

  “Daisies, then?” Perry’s eyes were dancing.

  “Daisies are white, as well you know. You must be serious, sir. It is an honour to be allowed to come here.”

  “I am honoured enough to have you on my arm.”

  “That is not the point,” she told him primly. “Don’t you wish to know the names of all these plants?”

  “Not in the least! Other matters are closer to my heart. Tell me, have you enjoyed today?”

  “Oh, very much!” she cried impulsively. “This is all so new to me. How lucky you are to be a member of such a delightful family!”

  He stopped then, turned to her and took her hands in his.

  “I’m so glad you like them, Elizabeth. That is important to me.”

  She did not dare to ask him why. Instead, she disengaged her hands, and attempted to move on.

  “Don’t go!” he whispered. “Don’t you wish to know the reason?”

  “Perry, please! The others are coming back...”

  He sighed. Then he looked up to find the rest of the party close at hand.

  “My dears, I believe we should be starting back,” the Countess said reluctantly. “As Mrs Aveton has pointed out, the air grows chill when the sun has gone.”

  “No, no, my dear ma’am, I would not hurry you away for worlds. This has been so instructive...” The hard eyes roved over the little group. “Where is Judith?” she demanded.

  “We left her sitting by the river, Mrs Aveton.” Elizabeth was aware of the sharp look on the older woman’s face.

  “Alone?”

  “Of course not,” Perry replied. “Dan is with her.”

  “Indeed!” Her tone caused Prudence to swing round.

  “You have some objection, Mrs Aveton?”

  “My dear Lady Wentworth, pray don’t take me up so for my concern about my darling girl. Dearest Judith! A joy to us, of course, but sadly given to wool-gathering, I fear. I had made sure that she would like to see the plants...and now, you see, she has missed her chance.”

  “And enjoyed a little welcome peace, I fancy,” Perry murmured to Elizabeth.

  She did not reply, sensing at once that Mrs Aveton saw her as a serious rival to her quiet stepdaughter. That lady was quick to turn the situation to her own advantage.

  “Ah, well, it can’t be helped,” she sighed. “We cannot wait for her in this chill wind, and with Miss Grantham lately come from the warmth of Italy, she must ride back with us. Mr Wentworth, shall you object to fetching Judith back to London in your carriage? The naughty child has no idea of the trouble she has caused.”

  “No trouble at all, ma’am!” Perry’s tone was distant. “It will be a pleasure.” He hid his disappointment with good grace.

  Under cover of their departure, he drew Elizabeth aside. “This wasn’t what I intended,” he murmured. “Will you drive with me tomorrow?”

  “Not tomorrow,” she said quietly.

  “You have a previous engagement?”

  “I have a duty to my aunt. I must bear her company.”

  “Another meeting?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I don’t know yet, but I don’t...don’t wish to make use of her. Do you understand? It would be wrong to use her home as a hotel.”

  He nodded. He was disappointed, but he could understand her scruples.

  The Countess was pleased. She had overheard the e
xchange and it confirmed her good opinion of Elizabeth, who at no time during the day had betrayed the fact that she thought of Perry as more than a friend. Her attention had been given equally to the other members of the party, even in the face of Mrs Aveton’s obvious hostility.

  That lady’s suggestion that she should ride back in the carriage with the other ladies had confirmed it. Now Mrs Aveton bustled about, urging Elizabeth to take the corner seat.

  Elizabeth was amused by, in spite, or possibly because of, the older woman’s tactics. She was anxious to leave before Judith reappeared, but she was too late.

  As Dan and Judith walked towards them, Elizabeth surprised a look of hatred on Mrs Aveton’s face. Aware that she was under scrutiny, the look was banished at once.

  “Too late, my dearest love!” she cried. “You are to brave the cold with Mr Wentworth, you naughty puss!”

  Judith seemed about to speak, then her eyes rested briefly on Elizabeth’s face. The smile she saw there eased her mind, and she turned back to Perry.

  “Now we shall be comfortable,” Mrs Aveton cried. Again she looked at Dan with an expression of distaste. He bowed as the carriage rolled away, but she ignored him.

  Elizabeth felt indignant. It was clear that Mrs Aveton disliked Dan, though why she couldn’t imagine. After all, he was just a boy. There could be no harm in his speaking to her stepdaughter. She guessed that Judith was in for a severe scolding later in the day.

  Beside her, Prudence had stiffened. It was clear that she was controlling her temper only with the greatest effort. Her replies to Mrs Aveton verged on the abrupt, and Elizabeth thought it prudent to question her about her children.

  This served to lighten the tense atmosphere inside the coach, though the Countess eyed her daughter-in-law in some concern. Thankfully, the rest of the journey was accomplished without the explosion which she feared.

  It was not until Mrs Aveton had been set down that Prudence gave full vent to her feelings.

  “Mama, you must forgive me! I know that creature is a friend of yours, but did you see the way she looked at Dan? He might have crawled from beneath some stone.”

  “She is a stupid woman, Prudence. I don’t regard her as a friend, more as an acquaintance. I invited her today because of Judith. The girl is so badly treated...”

  “That doesn’t surprise me! What a harridan! She must be a fiend to live with!” She stopped and looked at Elizabeth. Then she began to smile. “Now you see me in my true colours. My hasty temper is a heavy cross for my family to bear.”

  Elizabeth returned her smile. “Mine is dreadful,” she admitted. “I try to control it, but sometimes I fly into the boughs.”

  Having confessed their faults, the two girls looked at the Countess to find that her eyes were twinkling. “Such a pair!” she teased. “What am I to do with you? Shall you bring pistols to the ball, instead of reticules?”

  “No, no, we shall be very good! I shall practice my downing stare. That should be enough to strike terror into the hearts of my enemies.”

  “You have none, my love. Take care, or you will give Elizabeth the wrong impression of our acquaintance. They are not all Gorgons!”

  Upon this cheerful note they left Elizabeth at Miss Grantham’s door.

  “Thank you!” the Countess murmured. She was sensible of the fact that it was Elizabeth who had averted an ugly scene with Mrs Aveton. On an impulse, she bent and kissed the girl. Perry had chosen well. If only he might be successful in his wooing.

  Elizabeth hurried to her room. Miss Grantham had not yet returned, and she was glad to be alone. She needed time to think...to dwell upon the events of the past few hours. This was a day she would remember all her life.

  Curled up in the windowseat, she called to memory Perry’s every word and look. There had been a sense of urgency in his manner, combined with gentle tenderness which made her pulses race.

  When they’d walked together she had been so aware of his closeness...of the pressure of his arm in hers. Those moments had a dreamlike quality. Had it really happened, or had she imagined it? Suddenly, she was floating, seeming to see the world about her for the first time.

  Now she could not wait for their next meeting. It had taken all her strength of will to refuse his invitation for the following day. She would not see him again until the night of the Earl of Brandon’s ball, and how the days would drag without him! Meantime, she must not upset her aunt by mooning about the house.

  That evening Miss Grantham announced her intention to break the habit of a lifetime. For the Earl of Brandon’s ball she would appear in a fashionable toilette.

  “There’s no fool like an old fool!” she announced with a wry smile. “But I owe it to you, my love. Your aunt must not be seen as a figure of fun.”

  Elizabeth protested warmly. “You would never be that, Aunt Mary. Am I to go shopping with you?”

  “If you please, Elizabeth. I am quite out of touch with the present style. In my day we wore hoops, and stays which pinched us cruelly. Thank heavens the fashion for powdering is gone. I well recall some of the more outrageous creations, with hair built up to two feet or more in height.”

  Elizabeth refused to believe it.

  “But it is true, my dear. Ladies were forced to sleep in a sitting position. One heard some alarming stories. A pomaded head lay often undisturbed for several months. When it was taken down it was sometimes full of vermin, including, in one case that I heard of, a mouse.”

  Elizabeth squealed in horror. “I should have hated it!”

  “As I did myself. It was a filthy habit. You see, now, why I believe that cleanliness is all?”

  Elizabeth was intrigued, wondering what her aunt would make of the light poplins, muslins, tulles and filmy gauzes so fashionable with the ton.

  On the following day, Miss Grantham dismissed them from her consideration with a peremptory wave of her hand. She was then informed by the modiste that the hoop and wide skirt still survived, but only in Court circles. For the Earl of Brandon’s ball they must be considered suitable. She had heard a rumour that the Prince of Wales intended to be present.

  Miss Grantham was unimpressed. “I have done with hoops,” she said briskly. “Ridiculous! One might as well carry a house upon one’s person...”

  For a few anxious moments it seemed that the shopping expedition would be a failure. Then Madame Céline was inspired to suggest a half-dress of the finest parchment-coloured Brussels lace, to be worn over a gown of heavy silk brocade in the same shade.

  “Well, Elizabeth?” Miss Grantham cocked an eyebrow at her niece.

  “Aunt, it is so beautiful!” Elizabeth stroked the fabric with loving fingers. “And this shawl! It is a perfect match. See how well it looks!”

  “So it should!” Miss Grantham threw her eyes to heaven. “Fifty guineas for a shawl! Why, my dear, it would buy a microscope!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “You cannot wear a microscope about your shoulders, ma’am.”

  “I’ll take them!” Miss Grantham turned to Madame Céline. “You have a turban or some such thing to wear upon my head?”

  Happy in the knowledge that she had just sold the most expensive toilette in her entire establishment, Madame Céline hurried to produce a range of caps adorned with jewelled aigrettes, gilded circlets designed to nestle within a crop of curls, and various turbans of terrifying size and splendor.

  “This will do!” Miss Grantham seized a turban and crammed it on her head, much to the modiste’s satisfaction. This final purchase was also hideously expensive, but her unusual customer seemed untroubled by the cost.

  With many expressions of gratitude for their custom, and in hopes of a return visit, Madame Céline bowed them to their carriage.

  “A return visit? Ha! She will wait long enough for that,” Miss Grantham announced.

  “Everything was expensive,” Elizabeth admitted. “I feel so guilty, Aunt. Had it not been for me, you would not have felt obliged to spend the money.”

  �
�Stuff!” Surprisingly, Miss Grantham seemed pleased with all her purchases. “I have a fancy to appear in all my finery, especially since the present fashions are so comfortable. Now, what do you say to a drive this afternoon?”

  Elizabeth was quick to agree. She might catch a glimpse of Perry in the Park, though it seemed unlikely. More probably he would be at Tattersalls, at Gentleman Jackson’s saloon, or at one of the clubs in St James’s Street.

  If only he had not been recalled to Portsmouth. She was on tenterhooks as they returned to Mount Street.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It eased her mind to find that there was no message from him. He would not leave without bidding them farewell.

  If only he might remain in London for the ball. It was her dearest wish. In these last few days she’d sensed a difference in his manner towards her. Twice, he had been on the verge of saying...what? She did not know, and could not guess.

  It could have been another apology, or had he been about to tell her that he was to marry Judith Aveton? She crushed the unwelcome thought. Perry had betrayed no particular interest in the girl, and had driven her back to London with him only at Mrs Aveton’s insistence.

  It wasn’t what he’d intended. He’d told her so himself, but what did he intend? Hope blossomed in her heart. Suppose he should propose to her again? He was under no coercion. This time it would be of his own free will, and she would not throw the chance of happiness away.

  On the day of the ball she felt a nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Would this evening seal her fate? How missish to be trembling like some foolish schoolgirl, when she wished to present an appearance of dignity to the world.

  She summoned all her resolution as she and Miss Grantham climbed the staircase of the house in Grosvenor Square.

  The Earl of Brandon, flanked by his family, headed the reception line, and he greeted her aunt with extreme courtesy, holding her in conversation, and promising himself the pleasure of a long talk with her later in the evening.