The second time she waltzed with Mr. Farwell, he pulled her closer than propriety allowed and whispered, close to her ear, "You are the loveliest woman here. Your eyes sparkle and your smile invites everyone to share your joy."
Unable to respond, she could only look up at him. His smile was tender, his eyes warm.
Mr. Dervigne attempted to engage her for a dance shortly after supper, but she was relieved to be able to refuse him. As she did so, Mr. Farwell materialized at her side.
"Evening, Dervigne," he said, shortly.
"Your servant, Farwell. Miss Phaedra, surely there is someone who will yield me just one dance. I cannot believe that you truly wish to dance with all these callow youths."
"Indeed I do, Mr. Dervigne. Much more than I wish to dance with you. Mr. Farwell, I am thirsty. Could you escort me to the refreshment table, please?" She turned her back on the older man. Such a detestable creature.
When Phaedra had danced away with her next partner, Reggie strolled toward the far side of the room. He was in no mood to dance with anyone else. Phaedra had ruined his taste for sweet innocence and wicked sophistication alike. He had just slipped into a curtained alcove on the opposite wall when Robert Dervigne joined him.
"Your attentions to Miss Phaedra Hazelbourne are becoming particular, Farwell. Are we to assume you and she are...involved?" His tone spoke volumes about what the involvement entailed.
Reggie looked down at the older man. He let his lip curl. "I do not like your tone, Dervigne. You malign the lady."
"Oh, come now. All society knows of her sister's escapades. Can we not expect the same lack of discretion from her?"
Reggie felt his carefully maintained air of ennui slipping, and realized he cared not a whit. "I would watch my words if I were you Dervigne. A loose tongue can be dangerous."
A harsh bark of laughter burst from Dervigne's mouth. "You threaten me, Farwell? A useless fop like you? Don't be ridiculous."
A red haze clouded Reggie's vision. Without hesitation, he doubled his fist and buried it in Dervigne's middle. His other fist caught the man on the chin and sent him sprawling against the alcove wall. "Although you are no gentleman, Dervigne, I promise you that the next time you venture to speak ill of Miss Phaedra or of her sister, I will challenge you. Is that clear?"
Dervigne opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyes narrowed. "So the fop is not all he seems." He sighed lustily. "Very well. Henceforth I will avoid any discussion of the Hazelbourne sisters." He shook his head but made no other move. "Go away, Farwell. I refuse to add to my humiliation by attempting to stand with you here."
Reggie went. Good God. I must be going out of my mind. I need fresh air before I do something foolish.
* * * *
Late in the evening, Phaedra seated herself beside her mother.
"Do you not dance the waltz, dear?"
"No, Mama, for I have already danced twice with Mr. Farwell."
"I doubt it will harm you to do so a third time. Everyone is aware that his attentions to you have been most particular. But I will leave it to you." Phaedra did not see her give a quick nod to the gentleman as he approached. He held out his hand to the girl.
"Come, dance with me. I do not want to sit this one out."
She hesitated. "But what will people think?" She wanted to dance with him. Her mother said it would be all right. But still...
"They will think that I am the most fortunate man in this room, to be dancing with the most beautiful woman here. Come, Phaedra."
His smile overwhelmed her better judgment, and she went into his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
The journey to the estate of the Duke and Duchess of Verbain allowed Phaedra plenty of time to think about her feelings for Mr. Farwell. She rode with her mother and Cousin Louisa in the family coach, the Duchess and Lady Mary having gone ahead on the previous day. Mr. Farwell and Mr. Martin rode alongside with her papa. She frequently had a glimpse of one or the other of them through the coach window. Somehow she had expected a fop to be a poor rider, but Mr. Farwell sat a horse as if he had been born astride. His garments were every bit as colorful as any she had seen him wear, so she never mistook him for one of the other men. The bright lime green of his elegantly tailored coat shone in the sunlight like some outré lantern.
After dancing until the ball at Almack's had ended the night before, Phaedra slept through the first change of horses, in spite of wanting to see the new country through which they passed. They were pulling into a posting house for the second change before she woke fully.
Once Mama and Cousin Louisa had alighted, Phaedra gathered her skirts and prepared to follow. Before she could hop down, as was her habit, Mr. Farwell appeared in the coach's doorway. Holding out his hand, he offered his assistance.
She took the waiting hand, once again noticing how strong it was, for all the skin was white and smooth. To cover the tiny thrill his touch engendered, she said, "I must say, Mr. Farwell, having an attentive suitor is quite exciting. I have never felt so cosseted." She smiled up into his face, and was momentarily nonplussed to see in his usually unrevealing eyes a gleam of...of what? It put her in mind of coals left smoldering in a fireplace. The gleam was gone in an instant, replaced by sleepy ennui.
"Become used to it," he replied, taking her arm. "I have every intention of becoming indispensable to you."
"Well, I do not understand why you are showing this partiality to me, but I shall not complain. It is making the journey ever so much more comfortable than I am used to. Papa always took great care of Mama, when we went to the Assemblies at Huntington, you know, and Chloe required Jem's assistance because she always became so ill from the journey. I was left to manage for myself.
"Oh, do not think I was neglected in any way. I much prefer to be independent. I am not so delicate that I cannot alight from a coach without a gentleman's assistance. All the same, it is a pleasant novelty to be treated as if I were a fragile blossom."
He touched her cheek lightly with a gloved fingertip. "A particularly lovely blossom."
A shiver found its way up her spine.
Their light luncheon was soon consumed. Afterward Phaedra and her mama, desirous of exercise before once again immuring themselves in the coach, walked down a short path to a nearby stream. Phaedra gazed at the moving water, deep in thought. "Mama," she said finally, "Do you receive the impression that Mr. Farwell is really two different people?" She watched a leaf as it floated past, twirling and dipping in the chuckling stream.
"Why, what do you mean, dear?"
"When I first met him, I dismissed him as a fop. His dress bordered on the preposterous, his conversation was full of meaningless flattery. He never said anything of great significance, until one day he scolded me for what he called my snobbery. But then he promptly went to sleep, so I assumed he was teasing." She leaned over the stream, examining the plants growing along its banks. "In the past few days, he has changed, somehow become more serious."
"Mr. Farwell has always seemed a most congenial and intelligent gentleman to me," Mama replied. "I wonder if you have not let his style of clothing influence you too much, so that you failed to perceive the person within. He and I have had several interesting conversations while you were dancing."
"Perhaps." Phaedra knelt at the water's edge, reaching for some floating plants in a tiny pool formed by piled rocks. It looked like a duckweed, but somehow different. She wished she had a bottle so she could collect some. Dipping her fingers in the water again, she washed away the few leaves that had clung. "Mama, there is another thing I wish to ask you about," she said, without looking away from the water.
"What is it, dear?"
Although she knew what she wanted to ask, the words came with difficulty. "Several of the young ladies I become acquainted with, those who are in their second or third Seasons, told me that Mr. Farwell has the reputation of being an excellent escort and very good company, but he has never been known to pay attention to any female in particular.
Selina Carruthers said she developed quite a tendre for him in her first Season and made sure he knew of it. He discouraged her firmly but kindly. According to Sarah, he has never been known to go beyond what is proper with any lady and that there was never any gossip about his having a mistress or pursuing the opera dancers, although her older brother had once seen him at Harriet Wilson's establishment, where he was apparently well known."
"Good heavens, Phaedra. Is that what young ladies discuss these days? How shocking." Her mother chuckled. "Nothing has changed since I was a girl." She sobered. "I do hope that you did not ask Miss Carruthers about Mr. Farwell's amours."
"Of course not, Mama. She volunteered the information. You know how she does run on. I did not discourage her revelations, though," she admitted. "Mama, how could I marry a man who has patronized that...that house of ill repute?"
"If we women refused to marry any man who had indulged himself thus before marriage, England would be populated with old maids. Most gentlemen visit Mrs. Wilson's establishment, or others that are not nearly so well kept, before they marry."
"Do you mean...did...Papa?"
"That is none of your concern. Your papa is an exemplary gentleman, but he is a man. As is Mr. Farwell--both exemplary and a man."
Miserable, Phaedra returned her gaze to the stream, as if she might find answers writ in the moving water.
"I could not bear it if my husband were to be intimate with another woman."
"Then it is up to you to see that he does not. A woman who does not endeavor to please her husband only gets what she has merited when her husband is physically unfaithful to her."
"And that is why I must be sure to love the man I marry, Mama. I could not bear to be so intimate with a man for whom I merely felt respect and admiration." She sat back on the grassy bank with no thought to her gown. "Oh, Mama, I must be sure! You were sure you loved Papa when you married him, were you not?"
"I was, but most women are not so fortunate. Most of the girls I knew during my Season married for money or position or because their parents wished it and chose their husbands."
Mama pulled her into a soft embrace. "Phaedra, I am not trying to push you into marriage with Mr. Farwell, no matter how it must seem so to you. I do wish you to marry well, and your opportunities of meeting worthy young men will be so much less if you return home unwed, so I encourage you to give his proposal serious consideration. Give him a chance while we are at Verbain. If you are still certain that you and he would not suit when our visit is over, then tell him so in no uncertain terms. Then you will be free to enjoy the remainder of your Season heart whole and fancy free."
"I will try, Mama," she promised, with a heartfelt sigh, "but it seems like such a short time to decide the course of one's entire life." She stood up and attempted to brush the mud from her skirt where she had knelt upon it. "I almost wish that he had never offered for me. It has become so complicated, trying to decide how I really feel about him, and now he seems like a different person than the one I thought I knew. If he had not changed so, my decision would have been easier, for I could not have married him as he was when I met him."
"It is your doubts that cause me to urge you to give yourself more time in which to decide," Mama said. "Were you certain you could not marry him, I should cease to do so. I only want you to be happy, my dear, and would be the first to object to any man with whom I felt you would not be." She hugged Phaedra briefly. "Let us go back. Your father will be most out of sorts, so long have we been gone."
Papa demanded to know what had kept them away so long and promised that they would not arrive at Verbain until well after dark, due to their disappearance. He continued to grumble as the ladies entered the coach and did not subside until his wife leaned out the window. She laughingly told him that he was now delaying them and if he would cease his grumblings, they could get on their way.
Behind his back, Mr. Farwell winked at Phaedra.
Winked? Mr. Farwell? Never.
As the coach pulled onto the road, Phaedra cast a last, longing glance at the pretty streambank where, under other circumstances, she could have spent a happy hour or two, collecting plant specimens. Spring was well along, and she had done no collecting at all, there being no place in London where wildflowers grew. The vegetation in Town was either weedy or cultivated. Although she had seen some very interesting weeds, she had not had the opportunity to collect any of them.
She smiled to herself. What would the ton have thought, to see a respectable young woman pulling up weeds with great care and stowing them in her collecting bag? What would Mr. Farwell think if she asked him to assist her?
Why not? Tomorrow I will. If he truly wishes to marry me, he will respect my avocation.
She leaned forward to catch sight of him through the coach window. He was nowhere to be seen, to her considerable disappointment.
By the time they reached Verbain, the passengers in the Hazelbourne coach were travel-weary and stiff. Phaedra hardly noticed the magnificence of the Duke's principal seat. All she wanted was to get to her bedchamber and remove her wrinkled garments, wash her face, and move about a bit. Lady Mary escorted her up the soaring flight of stairs and along a seemingly endless corridor, explaining that the house party was to be lodged in the west wing, while the family inhabited the east.
"Grandpapa is not well, you know, and so we thought you would be more comfortable here, where you would not feel you had to be quiet, so as not to disturb him. Here." She opened a door. "These are your rooms."
Phaedra saw a cheery sitting room, the walls hung with yellow-flowered paper, a wide window that let in the rays of the setting sun, bowls of daffodils on every level surface, and a fireplace burning brightly. She followed Lady Mary to another door and saw beyond it a large bedroom with leaf green hangings and draperies, a forest green rug, and painted pale yellow walls.
"Do you like it?" Lady Mary asked her, after she'd stood a long moment in stunned silence. "It is quite my favorite of all the guest apartments. I thought you would be comfortable here, for it reminds me of a forest glade."
"Oh, it is so grand. I shall become spoiled staying in so lovely a room." She hugged Lady Mary.
"Mrs. Arbuckle is just across the hall and your parents are next door." Lady Mary indicated. "Reggie and Mr. Martin are at the other end of the hall. Now, I shall send Ellen to you, to help you unpack and change. She is so excited, to be asked to be your maid while you are here. Her dream is to become a fine lady's maid, or even a dresser. She is only sixteen, but she has already proven to have a talent for hairdressing. I think you will like her."
"You do not have to provide me with a maid. Mama's dresser can assist me," Phaedra protested.
"But I wanted to. I also wanted to give Ellen a chance to prove herself. My maid, Annie, is so jealous of her prerogatives that I have not dared let Ellen wait upon me."
"Very well, but having my own maid will only increase the danger of my becoming spoiled, you know. I shall be quite insufferable by the time we return to London." Phaedra pulled the bonnet from her head and tossed it upon the bed.
Just then a pale, rather homely girl in a maid's uniform entered somewhat precipitously. Her breath was coming in short gasps. "Lady Mary, am I late? Oh, I am." She curtsied. "I'm that sorry, mum. I was in the kitchen when Mrs. Swinton told me the company was here. I ran all the way, really I did." She turned a blushing face to Phaedra and smiled tremulously.
"It does not matter, Ellen. This is Miss Phaedra Hazelbourne, whom you will serve while she is our guest. Phaedra, I will see you later. Can you find your way or shall I send a footman in half an hour?"
"Send him, please. I was not paying attention when you pointed out the drawing room. It would not do for me to get lost on my way to dinner."
"No, for we would then have to send out a search party, and you might starve before we found you. This is a monstrous big house." Laughing, Lady Mary let herself out the door.
Ellen curtsied again as Phaedra turned to h
er. "Oh, mum, I really am sorry I was late. Would you want to bathe before supper? I can have a tub up in a twinkling."
"No, I think I will settle for just a wash. Half an hour is scarcely time for the tub. Perhaps just before I retire." Ellen helped her to remove her pelisse. As the maid was hanging it in the wardrobe, there was a knock on the door.
The girl dropped the pelisse and scurried to open it. "It's your baggage, mum. Oh!" she cried as she stepped aside to allow the footman to carry Phaedra's trunk and portmanteau inside. "Your pelisse! I'm sorry, mum." She hurried to pick up the garment and this time saw it safely hung in the wardrobe. "Shall I unpack, Mum? Which gown was you wanting to wear?"
Phaedra took pity on her. "Calm yourself, Ellen. We have plenty of time for me to dress, for I shall wear the yellow gown. It does not wrinkle easily, so we should be able to just shake it out before I put it on. Yes", she said when the maid located the dress, "that is the one. See how the wrinkles fall out of it? Now, if there is some hot water, I shall take the worst of the road dust off myself." She looked around.
Ellen's expression showed horror when she founds no water in the pitcher on the commode. She begged Phaedra's pardon and ran out the door. In just a few minutes, she re-entered, carrying a pitcher of hot water and leaving a trail of droplets in her wake. Again she abased herself, and again Phaedra told her to be calm.
The nervous little maid proved to be all that had been promised as she assisted to dress and arrange Phaedra's hair. Apparently apprehension and excitement had combined to make her seem scatterbrained.
"I was that surprised, yesterday, when her ladyship called me in to tell me I was to wait on you while you was here," she confided as she held a mirror up. "Oh, Miss Phaedra, I shall do my best to please you. You just be sure and tell me if I don't."
"I shall, Ellen, but do not worry. I am really very easy to please," Phaedra replied, liking this plain but bubbly girl. "And you have done my hair most attractively. Thank you."
"Oh, thank you, mum. I'll unpack your things while you're gone, and you be sure and send for me when you come to bed, won't you?" Phaedra started to say that she could put herself to bed without help, but not wanting to hurt the obviously eager-to-please maid, she agreed.
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