"Oh, but I am afraid that my unruly tongue will lead me into disgrace. I become so tired with always keeping it in control."
"Once we are married, Phaedra, you may say whatever you like. A married woman may be much more frank than her unwed sisters."
She let the artificial gaiety drain from her voice. "I have not yet said that I will marry you, Mr. Farwell." Suddenly she was very tired. "I think you had better take me home."
Reggie mentally kicked himself. What was it about Phaedra that made him forget his public persona so frequently?
The drive home passed in silence. Phaedra seemed depressed. He berated himself, because for a while they had been in perfect accord--until his mention of marriage had driven her to withdraw into herself.
When he escorted her to her door, she said, "Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Mr. Farwell. I enjoyed it very much." The tone of her voice belied her words. He bowed over her hand, keeping his lips a scant quarter-inch from her leather-covered fingertips.
I wish I could kiss her hand. Her mouth.
Great God, I want to kiss her.
* * * *
Edgemont handed Phaedra a note as she entered. "From your sister, Miss Phaedra. She wrote to your parents, as well."
She tore it open and read it, standing in the foyer. "Oh, Edgemont, she sounds very happy," she said, knowing the butler had been almost as concerned as she that Chloe's marriage was not a mistake.
"Very good, Miss. May I take the liberty of saying that I was quite impressed with his lordship. He seems a proper gentleman."
"Not like the madcap Hazelbournes, you mean," she teased.
"I am quite satisfied to serve your family, Miss Phaedra. What I inferred was that I think he will do very well for Miss Chloe, I mean to say, her ladyship."
"Yes, he'll keep her in line, I'll wager. I am so glad to hear that she is happy. I was worried, you know."
"Of course you were, Miss Phaedra," he told her in his most butlerish tones. But he winked as he so often had when she and Chloe were children.
She laughed and returned the wink, then ran up the stairs to change her dress. The faint depression that had taken possession of her after the encounter with Lady Everingham was gone.
The next day Phaedra, her mother, and Cousin Louisa went to a tea party at Marie Sefton's. The announcement of Chloe's marriage had appeared in that morning's Gazette, so they were expecting to be questioned about the suddenness of it. And so they were. Lady Gifford had decreed they would say that Wilderlake had been unexpectedly called back to his estates. Not wanting to depart without Chloe, he had begged that their nuptials be moved forward. His mother had agreed to support the story.
They had reckoned without Lady Everingham and her cronies.
Lady Sefton's first words to Lady Gifford were, "My dear, I was so surprised to read of your daughter's marriage. Why I had heard that she and Everingham were practically betrothed."
"Nonsense, Maria, you should not listen to gossip," Lady Gifford replied. "She and Wilderlake fell in love at first sight and wished to marry immediately. So impetuous, you know, as all young lovers are. We told them that they must wait until they knew each other better before formalizing their relationship."
"What made you change your minds? Surely not her behavior at the Duchess' ball, Isabella?"
Lady Gifford smiled serenely as she told of the emergency situation at Wilderlake's estate. "He feared that, because of the distance, he might not get the situation resolved until it was too late to return to Town this Season. So he convinced my husband and me to give our consent to an immediate marriage. We could not, you know, leave London at this time, because of Phaedra."
"I had heard that the gel was seriously ill," a nearby woman said, her tone positively dripping unction. "Surely, Lady Gifford, you did not let her be married from her sickbed."
"Of course not. Her illness was not serious, and she was quite recovered from it."
"Enough to take a little jaunt into Hertfordshire, dear Lady Gifford?" came a syrupy voice from across the room. Lady Gifford ignored the question, but her back stiffened and her face reddened.
Phaedra started to turn to see who had made the remark, but Cousin Louisa prevented her from doing so. Just then, Lady Mary came up and drew Phaedra away, saying, "I am so glad to see you today, Phaedra. Grandmama has said your parents have accepted her invitation to a house party at Verbain. What fun we will have."
Phaedra ground her teeth, but she managed to smile back at Lady Mary. "Yes, I am sure we will, Lady Mary. I am quite looking forward to it." She smiled at the quiet girl who waited in the corner. "How do you do, Miss Graham."
"Oh, Miss Hazelbourne, how brave you are," Miss Graham ventured, in a near whisper. "I would not have come here for anything, had I been you."
"Sarah, come here," Mrs. Graham called from across the room.
"Not just now, please, Mama. Miss Hazelbourne just arrived and I wish to visit with her for a few moments," the girl replied, not moving from where she sat. Both Phaedra and Lady Mary stared at her in amazement. She blushed furiously.
"Good in you, Sarah," Lady Mary said. "For we know your mother would not wish you to associate with Miss Hazelbourne, after the gossip that has been raging in this room today."
Still blushing, Sarah Graham said, still almost whispering, "I know she does not. She told me this morning that we would no longer acknowledge the Hazelbournes. But I could not obey her. Miss Phaedra was kind to me before anyone. I could not desert her when she is in need of friends." It was quite the longest speech either of the other two had ever heard from the shy girl and their amazement grew.
"Sarah, there are depths to you that I never suspected," Phaedra told her. "I am honored to have you for a friend. But friends are not so formal with one another. My name is Phaedra."
"And mine is Mary," the tiny redhead added.
"Oh, I could not..." Sarah said, awed at such familiarity.
"Of course you could," Lady Mary assured her with a kind smile. "I cannot allow such formality from my friends. It is most uncomfortable."
The three girls chatted quite happily for quite some time. Sarah, ignoring her mother's frequent beckonings, was found to be quite a delightful person, well read and interesting. When her mother finally insisted that it was time for them to depart, she did so reluctantly, but with an invitation to call upon Lady Mary after her return from Verbain. She said, quite decisively, "I appreciate the invitation, Mary, but I do not think I will accept. I would not expose your grandmother to Mama. We will see each other at parties, where Mama will not be able to hang upon the Duchess' skirts. Goodbye, Phaedra. Please, do not let the gossip depress you. Yes, Mama, I am coming."
"Well!" exclaimed Lady Mary as the girl and her mother left the room. "I never thought that she would speak up like that."
"Nor did I. What a nice girl. I quite like her. But what a terrible mother," Phaedra said.
"Is she not?" Mary giggled. "I do hope that Sarah will not receive too harsh a scold. Now, Phaedra, what is this I hear about your refusing Reggie's offer?"
"Oh, dear. He should not have told you. And I did not exactly refuse him."
"Reggie and I tell each other practically everything. I knew a fortnight ago that he intended to offer for you. Come, Phaedra, do you hold him in such distaste?"
"No, I do not. I am just not sure we would suit. Oh, Mary, I am in such a quandary. I do like him, but I cannot feel I know him. Have you--" He closed her mouth, not wanting to reveal her uncertainties. "You and he have been friends for many years. Can you tell me of his childhood? His interests?"
Lady Mary shook her head. "Reggie is a very private person. I must let him tell you of himself."
"But Mary, how can I make such a momentous decision when I have no knowledge of the man. I greatly fear his values are widely divergent from mine."
"Are they? I think you would be surprised. Perhaps you will learn better while you are at Verbain. He is coming, you know, as is Mr. Martin."
"Yes, I did know. But I am not sure..."
"Well, I am sure. We all will have a perfectly marvelous time. Oh, dear, it looks as if Grandmama is ready to leave. Please excuse me, Phaedra. Will I see you this evening at the Dillingsworth musicale?"
"We will be there. Mama says that we will refuse practically no invitations until we leave for Verbain." Surely not admitting she was attending because Mr. Farwell would be there was only a small fib.
Deserted by her friends, Phaedra conversed with some of the other young ladies at the tea party. Most were kind to her, but a few ventured unpleasant remarks about Chloe's sudden marriage. Phaedra was able to return unexceptionable replies to most of these, but her patience was strained almost to the breaking point. When Miss Evelyn Stockton asked her if she was not ashamed of her sister's quite improper behavior, she lost all control of her temper and her tongue.
"My sister has done nothing for which any of her family is ashamed, Miss Stockton. It is only the evil gossips, of which Society has far too many, that have besmirched her good name. If the so-called ladies of the ton would spend less time watching the behavior of innocent girls and more in mending their own questionable behavior, the world would be a much better place. What have you done recently to improve the world in which you live, Miss Stockton? Or is all your time spent in shopping, partying, and gossiping?"
Miss Stockton drew back in alarm from Phaedra's flashing eyes and caustic voice. "I can see that you are no better mannered than your sister, Miss Hazelbourne. How rude you are!"
Ignoring the hand Cousin Louisa had laid on her arm, Phaedra continued, "It is you who are rude. Spreading rumors about my sister, whom you hardly know, and making remarks calculated to discomfort me. Your manners are in need of mending, not mine! Good day, Miss Stockton. I hope I will not meet you again." She turned on her heel and stalked away, Cousin Louisa in her wake, to where her mother sat against the opposite wall, speaking with Lady Jersey.
"Mama, forgive me, but I wish to return home. There are persons here with whom I do not care to associate further. Lady Jersey, I do not include you, unless you choose to be among those who would insult my sister." She ignored the shocked expression on her mother's face and walked from the room.
Lady Gifford half rose from her chair, but sat again when Cousin Louisa told her, "Stay here, Isabella, and enjoy yourself. I will see her home."
Lady Jersey let out a peal of laughter. "Lud, Isabella, I never thought she had a temper. That one always impressed me as being too quiet, too serious. Good girl, standing up for her sister like that. I saw her talking to that mealy-mouthed Stockton girl. She probably gave the chit a good tongue-lashing. Here, now, Isabella, cheer up. Your daughter's done nothing to harm herself. Those who matter will admire her for her defense of her sister, you know, just as I admire you for holding your head up and coming here today. Oh, yes, I've heard what Lady Everingham has said, and I'll wager there is some basis in it, but no daughter of yours would ever do anything more than mildly improper, and you've got her married off now, so you can stop worrying about her. Now all you have to concern yourself with is whether the first little one comes along too soon. No, now don't you frown at me. I did not say that Chloe was ruined when she married Wilderlake, but you must admit that it would be better for all concerned if they waited a few months before she started breeding. But there, no expecting any man to hold himself back, just to still the gossip, so all we can do is hope. Besides, by next Season, this will all be forgotten anyway. I still call myself your friend, Isabella, and you just remind yourself of that whenever the gossip gets too thick. I am not without influence, you know. I'll do what I can to still the talk about your other girl. Oh, dear, Maria is beckoning to me. I must go see what she wants. Now, Isabella, you just worry about finding a husband suitable for Phaedra. She will need someone quite out of the ordinary. Yes, Maria, I am coming. So good chatting with you, Isabella." She left a breathless but relieved Lady Gifford behind her.
Phaedra left the tea party and went home, fully expecting to receive a thorough scold from her mama later. She was mildly surprised when Cousin Louisa said nothing about her outburst, but only related on dits she had heard that afternoon.
When Mama came home later, she merely cautioned Phaedra to choose her words carefully, "For it would not do for you to say anything really insulting to anyone. I do not expect you to refrain from defending your sister, as long as you do so in a ladylike manner, you know."
Phaedra was quite relieved to know that her mother was not unduly upset by her loss of temper. She vowed to keep a better rein on it in the future.
The rest of the week passed all too slowly. Everywhere they went, Phaedra was forced to bite back angry words more than once. No one ever said anything overtly derogatory about Chloe to her face, however, so she managed to hold her temper.
Lady Everingham glared at each of their two encounters. She had not discontinued her criticisms of the Hazelbournes. Phaedra was therefore pleasantly surprised to find that few members of Society paid heed to Lady Everingham's words. In fact, most seemed arrayed on the side of the Hazelbournes.
The most distressing part of the next few days was being forced to be polite to Mr. Dervigne. That gentleman sought her out at every opportunity. He continued to voice flattering phrases, and frequently invited her to drive with him.
She never quite gave him the set down that she wished to, however, because Lady Mary had warned her that he was capable of exacting revenge when snubbed as he deserved. "In Grandmama's words, he can damn with faint praise. Without saying anything precisely true, he is adept at spreading the worst sort of gossip and innuendo." After that Phaedra was grateful for Mr. Farwell's almost constant presence. When he was with her, Mr. Dervigne kept his distance.
Mr. Farwell, in fact, was proving to be quite a useful person to have about. He knew, and was known by, nearly everyone in Society, it seemed. At Lady Jersey's ball, he had introduced her to a number of young gentlemen, all of whom had asked her to dance, so that she had not sat out even once. He was ever at her side when neither was engaged to dance with someone else. His presence ensured that she was rarely exposed to unkind remarks or cuts direct.
He took her driving in the park nearly every afternoon. On Sunday he accompanied the family to church. The following Tuesday, her free day, he invited her to visit Astley's Amphitheatre. The proposed outing held far more charm than Mrs. Stewart's weekly literary salon, although she had to admit that if this week had been the meeting of the Association for the Preservation of British Compositae, she might have wavered.
He kept both her and Cousin Louisa in stitches that afternoon, making often quite acerbic comparisons between the antics of the clowns and those of certain members of the ton. His foppish dress and behavior still bothered her, but once in a while, she caught a quick, elusive glimpse of another, more serious man beneath the outward dandy. Intrigued, she decided she was quite content to have him constantly in attendance.
The night before the house party was to depart for Verbain, she and her mama again accompanied Lady Mary and the Duchess to the weekly ball at Almack's. For the first time, Phaedra found herself looking forward to it. She wore a new gown of silk, a deep, rich bronze-green in shade, her mother having decided that the restriction to pastel muslins could be relaxed.
Phaedra had again lost the battle to have the neckline modestly high, and the curve of her breasts showed above the unadorned silk. The skirt, with its demi-train, was fuller than she was used to. When she twirled, it billowed out to show a paler olive-green slip, embroidered with emerald green leaves for about six inches above the hem. Her grandmother's pearls encircled her throat, and dainty pearl eardrops, leant by her mama, matched them.
Mr. Farwell had again sent her ivory roses. She broke one from her posy to tuck into her curls among the bronze-green ribbons that held them high on her head. Gazing at herself in the pier glass in her mama's dressing room, she decided she looked quite well indeed.
Mr. Farwell was waiting in the foyer with her father as she and her mother came down the stairs. She stopped halfway down, frozen in surprise. Gone was the fop in primrose inexpressibles and colorful, almost garish, waistcoat. An elegant gentleman in black evening clothes was in his place. She could not take her eyes from him as she descended. His snowy cravat was tied in a tasteful and restrained knot, his shirt points rose to a modest height, his clocked hose showed strong, shapely calves. She caught her breath and looked quickly away when she realized she was staring at his thighs, clearly defined by his clinging satin breeches. Why had she never before noticed how golden his hair was, how gray his eyes? How strange she had never she really seen the determination bespoken by his square, firm jaw.
She managed to greet him politely, but found that she could not talk so easily to this elegantly dressed stranger as she had to the fop. She allowed him to place her cloak over her shoulders, shivering as his fingertips lingered a moment on her bare shoulder.
When she took his arm to enter the ballroom at Almack's, Phaedra finally found her voice. "How elegant you look tonight, Mr. Farwell and how restrained your garments. Are you sure you are not ill?"
"My dear, I am dressed this way in an attempt to win your favor. You have so many times deplored my foppish styles that I was forced to purchase these to please you."
"You did not! Oh, you should not have. Not for me."
"Only for you, my love," he said softly. "Now, may I have your dance card before all your other admirers steal away my waltzes. There, I have put my name down for all of them."
"But you cannot! There are three; I can only dance with you twice."
"Then we will sit out the third. But I do not want you to waltz with anyone else." His eyes held hers, compellingly, until she agreed.
Phaedra's card was soon filled. She danced that night as she never had before. Her sense that she was in her best looks gave her confidence. She never felt at a loss for words, never felt clumsy or awkward.
A Sisterly Regard Page 22