Teresa’s large black eyes looked up at him in disbelief. She could not have looked more different from her mother. And yet there was her mother’s vibrancy in Teresa when she argued or played the pianoforte. Only Doña Isabella somehow maintained her effervescence all the time.
“You are just saying that to make me feel better.”
Richard could not resist. He gently stroked her smooth pale cheek with his thumb. “No. If I wanted to make you feel better, I would compliment you on your beautiful eyes, on your perfect face, on your sweet temperament, and on your brilliant mind. But just now, I am not sure you would believe me.”
“No, you are right. I would not believe you,” Teresa said, completely honest as always.
Chapter Eleven
Teresa entered the drawing room to find her mother surrounded by three men. She shook her head, dumbfounded. How had they had found out so quickly that Doña Isabella was in London? She had only arrived two days ago.
Teresa was glad no one had noticed her entrance. Just watching her mother and these men converse made her feel tongue-tied. It reminded her vividly of when Doña Isabella had entertained the English soldiers at their home in Madrid.
Her mother, as always, had the gentlemen entranced, hanging on her every word. Teresa wondered how the Doña did it, and why she herself could not do the same thing. Surely it wasn’t only that her mother was beautiful? Surely it was also that she was saying something fascinating and enthralling? Why, otherwise, would these men stay at her feet, both literally and figuratively?
One of the gentlemen noticed Teresa’s presence and stood up. Immediately the other two followed his lead, drawing her mother’s attention as well.
“Teresa, finally you have come,” her mother said, as if they had all been waiting for her.
“I… I apologize, Mama, I… I did not realize you had guests.”
“You remember Sir William, Lord Stowe and Lord Elybank, do you not?” Doña Isabella said, pointing to each man in turn.
Sir William and Lord Elybank were both exquisites, although Elybank obviously aspired to a higher level of dandyism than Sir William. Lord Stowe, on the other hand, looked more like a fearsome farmer, with a black eye patch covering one eye.
As Teresa curtseyed to the bowing men, she vaguely remembered them as visitors to her mother’s drawing room before the English Army had headed further North toward France.
“I believe it has been some time, Miss Seton,” Sir William said, as if reading her mind.
“Indeed, you may not remember us, but I assure you, we remember you, your mother and your kindness during the war.” Lord Stowe smiled at Doña Isabella.
“Yes, yours was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of war,” Lord Elybank added, making a sweeping bow towards Doña Isabella.
Teresa pressed her lips together and bowed her head, stifling her laughter at this ridiculously ornate speech. Her mother, however, clearly appreciated his words for she dabbed at her eyes with her lace handkerchief.
“Oh, Lord Elybank, you are too kind. It was our pleasure to be of service to you and the other soldiers fighting for our freedom.” She gave her daughter a sharp look before smiling warmly once again at the men. She had seen Teresa’s smile.
“I am afraid, gentlemen, we do not have a pianoforte for Teresa to entertain you with here as we did in our home in Madrid,” her mother said. “Perhaps, Lord Stowe, you would be so kind as to attempt to converse with my daughter?” Doña Isabella smiled sweetly at that gentleman.
Her mother’s taunt hit its mark and Teresa felt a sharp stab of anger. How could her mother still treat her like a sixteen year old? She was no longer an awkward child. Yes, she had retreated into stammering incoherence before but no more, Teresa told herself firmly. She was a grown woman. She would behave that way and be treated that way. No more hesitations or stuttering.
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She could do this. She could be witty and charming like her mother, she told herself.
She put on her brightest smile. “You do not need to hide me behind a pianoforte as you did when I was a child, Mother. In fact, I would be delighted to converse with such a distinguished gentleman as Lord Stowe.” She then turned to the gentleman in question. “My lord, would you care to sit over there, by the window?”
The gentleman looked awkwardly from mother to daughter, but then said, “I would be honored, Miss Seton.”
With a last look at her mother who was looking shocked and not a little angry, Teresa led the way to the window seat on the other side of the room.
Teresa could not hide her proud smile. She had done it. She had spoken clearly and without one stutter while in her mother’s presence.
Sitting down at one end of the yellow upholstered bench that blended in beautifully with the yellow walls of the room, she gestured for Lord Stowe to take the other end of the bench. Now she had to actually have a conversation with this man.
She overheard her mother say to one of the other gentlemen, “It is dreadful how rude children have become. It is almost as if I never taught the child any manners, to speak to me in that way.”
Teresa ignored her and turned her full attention to the man sitting next to her. She quickly decided that it was merely his eye patch that made him look forbidding. In fact, when she looked at the rest of his face he was almost good looking, with a gentle aspect. He was not intimidatingly handsome like Richard nor unusually tall like him, but instead rather average in both looks and height. It must have been his very broad shoulders, chest and his short, muscular legs that gave the impression that he was shorter than he actually was, Teresa thought to herself.
“How do you find London, Miss Seton?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Very well, thank you, Lord Stowe. I have been enjoying myself immensely, attending all sorts of ton functions.” She paused and then cocked her head to one side. “I do not believe that we have met at any of the parties I have been to, have we?”
Lord Stowe’s lips twitched as if he were trying not to laugh. “No, we have not. I have only recently come from my estate in Sussex.”
“It is so difficult sometimes to remember everyone I have met, I am afraid,” Teresa quickly explained.
“I understand completely.”
Teresa thought that he might. He looked like a very kind man, now that his eye patch no longer intimidated her.
She turned the conversation to a topic that interested her more. “How have you been faring since your return from the Peninsula, my lord?” Teresa asked.
His mouth turned down as he took a moment to form his answer, perhaps considering how much to reveal.
Before he had time to say anything, however, Teresa added, “I understand that times have been very difficult for many of the returning soldiers. Even noblemen have not had an easy time of it.”
A wave of relief showed on his face. “Indeed, Miss Seton. You are absolutely correct. Things have been very… ah, challenging since I returned.” He paused.
Teresa nodded, “I have heard that many estates were not looked after as properly as they should have been while their owners were away at war.”
Lord Stowe looked startled. “Where did you hear this?”
“I have attended Lady Cowper’s political drawing rooms. The plight of the returning soldiers has been a major topic of conversation there,” Teresa explained.
Her companion looked relieved. “Oh, yes? That sounds very interesting. You have learned a great deal there, perhaps from other veterans of the war?”
“Yes, there were some gentlemen there who were soldiers. And many more who had wished to be, but for one reason or another were unable to join in the fighting.”
“I see. So now, they are doing what they can for the returning soldiers. That is very good of them.”
“Indeed, we all do what we can.” Teresa leaned forward and looked intently at her companion. “Would you be interested in helping us, my lord?”
“Me? What could I do?” Lord Stow
e asked, startled.
“Oh, you could be of such enormous help to other returned soldiers, my lord. We urgently need a nobleman to plead their case in Parliament. As I am sure you know, my lord, there are not nearly enough jobs for all of the men. Many are living on the streets, unable to do more than beg for their daily bread.”
Lord Stowe frowned, the lines on his face increasing moment by moment at the picture Teresa was painting. She stopped herself abruptly, aware that she tended to go on too long when it came to discussing the plight of these soldiers.
“Let me understand you, Miss Seton. You wish for me to be the man who should present their case in Parliament?”
“If you would, my lord,” Teresa said, looking at him hopefully.
Lord Stowe smiled ruefully. “No, Miss Seton, I am not sure that I am the right man for this. I have no clout in Parliament at all. I hardly ever take my seat.”
Teresa sighed, accepting his reasoning. Yet, he had seemed the perfect candidate, with his frank and gallant demeanor contrasting with the rakish eye patch that testified to his wartime sacrifices. “I understand, my lord, if you cannot do it. Perhaps you could think of someone else who would be willing. Do you think Lord Elybank would be interested?”
Lord Stowe let out a laugh. “No, Miss Seton, not Elybank. I do not believe that such a political speech would be up his line at all.” Following his eyes, Teresa looked over at that exquisite, who was delicately holding Doña Isabella’s fingertips while making one of his ornate discourses.
“No, I suppose not,” Teresa admitted, sharing his amusement.
Apparently, Lord Elybank’s oration was one of farewell. As the other gentleman rose, Lord Stowe, too, stood up to join them.
Looking frankly into Teresa’s eyes, he said, “Miss Seton, it has been a privilege to talk with you, however briefly. I will think about what you said and see if I can’t think of someone who would meet your requirements.”
Teresa inclined her head, warmed by his compliment, and held out her hand to Lord Stowe. “Thank you so much, my lord, for listening. Please do try and let me know your thoughts on this matter.”
As he bowed over her hand, Teresa could not help but think how easy the gentleman had been to converse with. He reminded her so much of Richard before… before he had kissed her.
Richard had become a good friend in the short time they had known each other, but after he kissed her everything had changed. Now, every time he touched her it was like being touched by flames. Her skin burned and tingled at the contact, and just being with him made her strangely breathless and very much aware of his proximity. It made being easy and friendly with him difficult.
An appalling thought crossed her mind—if only she had met Lord Stowe before she had met Richard! Here, indeed, was exactly the sort of man she had been looking for. He was not too handsome, and yet not bad-looking either; intelligent, but not intellectual; and interesting and easy to converse with. He was definitely someone that Teresa felt she could fall in love with and not feel overwhelmingly inferior to. And she was sure that his touches would not burn her, as Richard’s did. Oh, why had she not met this gentleman before!
The light sensation of his kiss on the back of her hand nearly made Teresa jump, as her attention was pulled away from her thoughts.
“Once again, it has been my pleasure, Miss Seton,” Lord Stowe was saying.
Teresa felt herself blush furiously, but luckily Lord Stowe had already moved away to say his farewell to her mother. “Doña Isabella, I must thank you for the honor of conversing with your charming daughter. May I be so bold as to ask if I may call on her again?”
Teresa’s mother looked taken aback for a moment. Then she met Teresa’s eye, and turned to smile sweetly at the gentleman standing before her. “I am so sorry, my lord, but my daughter will married in only a few days.”
“Married?” Lord Stowe clearly had not expected this.
Teresa felt herself burn with embarrassment once again. Why had her mother felt the need to tell him this? And why did she look so pleased with Teresa’s discomfiture?
“This is Teresa’s wedding dress. We had it specially ordered from my modiste. Teresa should wear this.” Lady Swinborne, her face a little flushed, held up the beautiful white silk gown with the silver net overdress. “She will look lovely in it, Isabella.”
Teresa had felt like a fairy princess in that dress when she had tried it on at the modiste’s shop. The light flowing fabric of the underdress accentuated what curves she had, while the silver overdress floated around her whenever she moved giving her an almost ethereal quality.
In short, wearing that dress was the one thing Teresa had been looking forward to in her wedding. The groom made her nervous, sending tingles down her spine with just a look. And she still had not reconciled herself to breaking her promise to her father. She only had to think of the social ostracism that she and her aunt would have to endure if she did not marry the Marquis in order for her not to just call the whole thing off.
If only her mother would relent. One look at her, however, quickly destroyed her hopes.
Doña Isabella eyed the dress, distaste writ plain upon her face. “In deference to her deceased father, she will wear the dark blue I chose for her.”
“But it does not flatter her as this one does!” Lady Swinborne sounded thoroughly exasperated.
This was the third time in two days Teresa had sat in her bedchamber watching her mother and aunt have the same argument. Finally, she could not take it any more. She knew her mother, she would not give up until she had her own way.
Teresa swallowed her frustration and stood up. “Aunt Catherine, Mama is right. Out of respect for my father, I will wear the blue.” She put her hand on her aunt’s arm. “Please, leave it be.”
Lady Swinborne’s mouth tightened. She looked at Teresa, then at Doña Isabella, and finally gave the dress in her hand to the maid standing nearby. “Return it to the clothespress,” she said, sadly.
Enveloping Teresa in a warm embrace, she said, “It will be as you wish, my dearest. It is your special day. I only want you to be happy.”
Teresa blinked back the tears that started in her eyes. “I know. But, unless I do as she wishes, I will never hear the end of it,” she whispered in her aunt’s ear, while Doña Isabella was imperiously ordering the maid to see that the blue dress was properly pressed for the following day.
“Good night then, my dear,” Lady Swinborne said with a final squeeze to Teresa’s arm. With a tinge of the rancor she obviously still felt, she wished her sister-in-law a good night as well.
Doña Isabella closed the door behind Lady Swinborne and then turned to her daughter. Her beautiful face was unusually serious. “Sit down, querida. There is something I must discuss with you.”
Teresa sat on one of the chairs near the fireplace. Nervously, she fingered the tassel on the blue-and-white pillow beside her. She was normally soothed by the décor of the room she had been given in her aunt’s house. The upholstery on the chairs and matching coverlet was of a soft azure, beautifully harmonizing with the blue fleur-de-lis on the white silk-covered walls. But just now, the color just accentuated her anxiety at the prospect of a tête-à-tête with her formidable mother.
Doña Isabella sat at the edge of the chair next to hers. She looked closely at Teresa, her large eyes twinkling with mischief. “Querida, tomorrow is your wedding day and there are things you ought to know.”
Teresa tilted her head. “Like what, Mama?”
A little smile tugged up one corner of Doña Isabella’s lips. “You should know something of what to expect on your wedding night, querida.”
“Oh!” Teresa felt her face heat with embarrassment.
Her mother’s smile became a laugh. “There is nothing to feel frightened about. I am sure that Lord Merrick will be a very gentle and talented lover.”
Teresa flushed again, intrigued yet confused. Doña Isabella leaned forward and continued, “You are surely a lucky girl, quer
ida. Why, any man with his broad shoulders, strong legs… and his hands, querida, his hands.” she stopped, lost in her own thoughts, her small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
“His hands, Mama?” Teresa was confused. “What is so special about his hands?”
“Have you not noticed? Ah, Teresita, you have a lot left to know! They are large hands, Teresa. And, usually, when a man has large hands … well, he is large in every way.” Her mother’s eyes grew round and she looked like she had just divulged the most wonderful secret.
But Teresa did not understand and she was not sure she wanted to.
Doña Isabella’s tinkling laugh filled the room. “You will learn. And, I am sure, his lordship will be an excellent teacher.”
Teresa swallowed hard. The thought of having Richard teach her about the mysteries of married life made her very nervous. Secretly, she wondered what it would be like to see his broad shoulders and strong legs unclothed.
No, she must not think such things. It would never happen. Theirs would be a marriage of convenience. He had said so. It would fall to another man to teach her about the joys of, of whatever it was her mother was trying to tell her.
Another man. Perhaps Lord Stowe, or someone else whom she had yet to meet. Suddenly she felt very sad and tired.
“Mama, I am sorry, but I am very tired.”
Doña Isabella looked up from her own thoughts, her smile still on her face. “Yes, of course, querida. You must get plenty of rest tonight. Tomorrow is going to be a very long and exciting day.”
Yes, it was going to be exciting, thought Teresa as she quickly brushed and plaited her long black hair before going to sleep.
Exciting, nerve-wracking, and not a little terrifying.
Chapter Twelve
Teresa looked in the mirror on her wedding morning and thought again how plain she looked.
The Merry Marquis Page 8