by Lynn Morris
Giles said with an appearance of carelessness, “You’re mistaken, Lewin. She’s probably going to be pursued by half a dozen men whose families might represent a fourth of the wealth in England. She deserves to live in the luxury she’s always known. Some of those are good men, like Brydges, and Aldington. Mirabella’s no fool. If she finds one of them to be agreeable enough, she’ll likely make a suitable marriage.”
Lewin sighed. “Sounds cold and dreary. Not like Mirabella at all.”
Giles thought, No, it’s not like her at all…but what can I do? She’s a grown woman, she can make her own decisions. And so it seems that I’m the one who is feeling cold and dreary…
* * *
Mirabella glowed in her evening gown. It was made of the finest corded silk in a deep peach color. It was simply made, with a high waistline, low square neckline, and short puffed sleeves; it was the unusual embellishments that made the gown distinctive. It was embroidered around the hem in one of the season’s newest and most fashionable colors, coquelicot, a bright poppy orange-red. In spite of her sister-in-law’s disdain for Mirabella’s scarlet pelisse, Mirabella had been correct; this year even young women could wear more daring colors, in trim at least. The embroidery was of the Oriental poppy, with the black center, surrounded by green ivy leaves. The silk bandeau about her waist had an identical design. Colette had fashioned small poppies out of silk that Mirabella wore in her hair, entwined with live ivy tendrils.
Her jewelry was distinctive, too. Rundell & Bridge had made a necklace and earrings that were of Mirabella’s own design. The stones in the gold filigree setting were of coral, but instead of the usual round stone or bead, they were square-cut. At her request, Rundell & Bridge had found coral stones that exactly matched the coquelicot trim of her dress.
Josephine looked lovely, too, in a similar gown of creamy mint green, trimmed in white. She wore a single strand of pearls, and white jasmine in her hair.
As soon as they entered the ballroom, they went to the dais to curtsy to the patronesses, who greeted them warmly. Admission to Almack’s was considered quite as important to a young lady as being presented in the Queen’s Drawing Room, and was choreographed as strictly. If her first appearance at Almack’s was considered her “coming out,” a patroness was chosen to arrange the young lady’s dance partners. Lady Cowper was sponsoring Josephine, and she said, “Miss Rosborough, as soon as everyone has arrived, I shall come fetch you and make known to you all of your dance partners I’ve chosen. I think you’ll be pleased, and will have a fine debut.”
Josephine thanked her warmly. Lord Camarden went to join a group of men that included Lord Liverpool, and Lady Camarden went to speak to Lady Liverpool. Mirabella took Josephine’s arm and said, “What a rout, but then it always is, on opening night. Let me look around, to whom shall I first introduce you?”
Josephine whispered, “Perhaps to this herd of young gentlemen approaching us? I did warn you, you know.”
“Oh, do be quiet, no one likes an I-told-you-so,” Mirabella hissed. Then she smiled warmly and curtsied. “Good evening, gentlemen, how good to see you tonight. Please allow me to introduce you to my friend, Miss Rosborough, although I see that not everyone requires an introduction. Lord Southam, we met only briefly at Lady Jersey’s, but you do remember Miss Rosborough?”
“Of course, how could I forget such a lovely young lady,” he said as he bowed and Josephine curtsied.
Mirabella continued, “Miss Rosborough, I’m happy to present to you Lord Palmerston, Mr. Aldington, and Mr. Smythe. My particular friend, Miss Rosborough.”
Bows and curtsies were exchanged. Lord Palmerston said, “I had already heard of the charming Miss Rosborough, I’m honored to finally make your acquaintance. Lady Cowper, I understand, is assigning your dance partners tonight, ma’am, and I have taken the liberty of requesting the first waltz. I hope that is agreeable to you?”
“Perfectly agreeable, my lord, I thank you,” Josephine said. Mirabella and Josephine exchanged mischievous glances as he took his leave. He was not a particularly handsome man, but his face was warm and lively, his dark eyes sparkled, and his voice was deep and resonant, like velvet. But it was especially his wholehearted devilish smile that emanated charm, and had earned him the nickname Cupid.
“I, too, have requested a dance, Miss Rosborough,” Lord Southam said cordially. “It was, I believe, the fifth one; however, as I’m unsure and I would hate myself if I left you standing, I’ll take care to check your card when Lady Cowper gives it to you.”
“You’re very kind, my lord. Indeed, I should be vexed to be left stranded without a partner, but I promise if such a mishap should occur I won’t hate you,” Josephine replied. Both Mr. Aldington and Mr. Smythe then began to assure Josephine that they, too, had requested dances.
Lord Southam turned his attention back to Mirabella. In contrast to Lord Palmerston, he was a tall, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man of quite imposing size. He had dark hair, stylishly arranged in careless curls, deep-set dark eyes, a fine straight nose, and, curious on his manly features, a wide, full mouth. He was older than Mirabella; she thought that he must be thirty-six or thirty-seven. In the exclusive realm of the haut ton of London, she had met him several times, and had danced with him twice that she could recall, but he had always been something of an enigma to her.
He said politely, “Your friend seems very amiable, I foresee that it will be a pleasure to make her acquaintance. And so, Lady Mirabella, are all of your dances bespoken yet?”
“Of course not, my lord, we’ve only just arrived. I’ve hardly had time to greet anyone yet, and beg for partners,” Mirabella said impishly.
“As if you should ever be required to do such a thing. Would you do me the honor of dancing the opening quadrille with me? And I should also like to request the first waltz.”
Mirabella smiled. “You are very bold, sir.”
“Fortune favors the bold.”
“Ah, yes. Virgil’s Aeneid.”
One eyebrow lifted sardonically. “Good heavens, a bluestocking. You don’t look like a bluestocking.”
“I thank you, since I understand they were reputed to be extremely frumpy.”
“Yes, they were, and obviously you have nothing to be concerned about on that score. Tell me, have you actually read the Aeneid?” he asked curiously.
“I have.”
“In the Latin, or a translation?”
“In the Latin. You appear to be shocked. But let me reassure you, I could hardly cipher much of it without assistance, and I found it to be rather heavy reading. ’Tis a wonder I finished it, I was so wearied of it by the end.”
“I am relieved, a lady who thoroughly enjoys reading Virgil is a fearful thing. But we’ve strayed from the most important topic. Are you, goddess Fortuna, to favor me for my boldness? Am I to have the quadrille and the waltz?”
“You may, sir,” she answered, handing him her dance card. He signed it with a flourish.
Lady Cowper appeared to usher Josephine around to make certain she was introduced to her chosen dance partners. Both Mr. Aldington and Mr. Smythe seemed to be about to try to converse with Mirabella, but just then Lord Trevor Brydges came to stand in front of them and bow to Mirabella.
“Good evening to you, Lord Trevor,” she said.
“Good evening, Lady Mirabella, may I say that you are a perfect vision tonight?” he said.
“Thank you, sir, you’re too kind.”
Lord Southam said with a half-smile, “Too late, Brydges, I’ve already got the quadrille and the first waltz.”
Cheerfully Lord Trevor said, “I thought such, but it’s of no consequence. There are three more waltzes, are there not? Lady Mirabella, I beg you will do me the honor of the second and third waltz.”
“I see that the waltzes are going to be in much demand this evening,” she said with amusement. “I’m so glad that I was able to learn it quickly, after what I must admit was a distinctly unpromising beginning. Thank yo
u, Lord Trevor, the second and third waltz will be my pleasure.” She handed him her card.
Harry Smythe, a boyish, bright-eyed young man, had barely been able to contain himself while the other, more important men monopolized Mirabella. But now he couldn’t resist saying, “Then that just leaves one waltz. Please, Lady Mirabella, may I have the honor? And also for the second dance?” Mirabella accepted these, and then Aldington signed for two dances. Lord Southam excused himself, but Lord Trevor, Mr. Aldington, and Mr. Smythe lingered. Mirabella had known Denys Aldington for years, and found him to be an agreeable young man, with curly brown hair and expressive brown eyes and pleasant features. However, she wanted to visit some of her other friends before the dancing started.
Firmly Mirabella said, “Gentlemen, I must beg you to excuse me. Mr. Smythe, I hope that Miss Smythe is here tonight, I long to see her. Pray, where is she, one can hardly find anyone in this crowd.”
Eagerly he said, “She is over there, with my mother. Would you allow me to escort you to her?”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, and took his arm. He fairly strutted across the room.
Mr. Henry Smythe was a very wealthy man who owned vast estates in Northumberland, and was also a well-respected MP for his borough. Although his family was not particularly distinguished, he had married a young woman of noble connections, Miss Frances Molyneaux. They had two children, Harry, who was twenty-five, and a girl who was now nineteen, Miss Barbara Smythe. Two years ago, when Barbara had come out, she and Mirabella had become fast friends. Mirabella found her to be charming. She was very pretty, tall and willowy, with thick curly yellow-gold hair, china-blue eyes, a delicate complexion, and a rare sweetness of expression. Miss Smythe was also a little shy, and Mirabella had, in effect, taken her under her wing.
Miss Smythe and her mother were seated on a settee, and Mirabella saw with pleasure that they were talking to Giles and Lewin. When she approached, the two ladies rose and curtsied, as was perfectly proper. Mirabella couldn’t help but recall that what Lady Jersey had said about Mrs. Smythe’s groveling was unfortunately close to the truth. Her curtsy was much too deep and subservient, and she deeply bowed her head, which one did only with the royal family. Barbara’s curtsy was perfectly correct and graceful.
Before Mirabella could greet them, Mrs. Smythe burst out, “Oh, how wonderful you’ve come as we were speaking of you, Lady Mirabella! I was just saying to Sir Giles that I was desolate when I realized you were in Town, and you and Lady Camarden had not yet found time to call on us. You will do so, at your first opportunity, will you not?”
“Of course, Mrs. Smythe,” Mirabella said courteously. “Miss Smythe, I’m so happy to see you again. You look lovely tonight, but then you always do.”
“Thank you, Lady Mirabella,” she said with some diffidence. “I was unsure about this new shade, Pomona green, but Mamma says it does flatter me.”
“So it does,” Mirabella agreed. “Good evening, Sir Giles, Captain Rosborough.”
They bowed, and Giles started to say something, but Mrs. Smythe gushed, “Sir Giles and Captain Rosborough were kind enough to come request Barbara to dance, of course she’s thrilled. Captain Rosborough, I must say that you look quite splendid in your regimentals, I always thought that the green jackets were most dashing, especially in the full dress, with the Hussar jacket on one shoulder, it’s so swashbuckling, is it not? And Sir Giles, I must compliment you on the intricacy of your cravat, I do so wish Mr. Smythe’s valet had a little more creativity in the matter of arranging fashionable cravats. I was just saying to Mr. Brummel the other day that he alone has made the fashionable cravat de rigueur.”
“That he has, Mrs. Smythe, a gentleman can hardly show his face in public unless his cravat is exquisite,” Giles gravely agreed. He turned to Mirabella. “Lady Mirabella, I observe that your dance card has already been signed several times. By chance do you have a waltz available?”
“I’m afraid not,” Mirabella said. “Those were claimed first of all. But you shouldn’t mind another dance, I’ve been waltzing with you all week.”
Giles grumbled, “Since I was your teacher, I would have thought you’d be considerate enough to allow me to be your partner at your debut. I suppose I’ll settle for a country dance.”
Aside to Mrs. and Miss Smythe, Mirabella said, “I hope, Miss Smythe, that Sir Giles’s request to you to dance was phrased slightly more elegantly.”
Barbara blushed. Mrs. Smythe said strenuously, “No, no, Sir Giles was most courteous and charming in his application to Barbara. That is, of course I didn’t mean to imply that he wasn’t courteous to you, Lady Mirabella, what I meant was that—er—he’s not, of course, on such intimate—that is, I mean friendly terms with my daughter as he appears to be with you. My lady.”
Barbara’s blush deepened, and Mirabella, as she always did, felt sorry for her, so she replied warmly, “Yes, Sir Giles is a lifelong friend of my family’s, and we often treat each other more as siblings than as friends. Sir Giles, you may have the country dance of your choice.”
The orchestra had been warming up, and now the conductor announced, “We will now have the quadrille.”
As was traditional, the four highest-ranking couples took the floor to begin the dance. Lord Southam came to Mirabella, and immediately Mrs. Smythe trilled, “Lord Southam, how good it is to see you again. Pray, have you spoken with my husband tonight? I believe he wanted to have a word with you concerning some business in the House.”
He bowed and said in a cool tone, “Good evening Mrs. Smythe, Miss Smythe. No, madam, I’ve not seen Mr. Smythe. I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to speak with him soon.” He then led Mirabella to the edge of the dance floor to wait for the other dancers to join the quadrille.
“Mrs. Smythe is very solicitous, shall I say,” he said.
Mirabella sighed. “Yes, and I feel so sorry for Miss Smythe, for I like her very well, and her mother does embarrass her.”
“It’s unfortunate, for the girl is pretty and amiable, and she has twenty thousand pounds. But Mrs. Smythe puts men off. Particularly noblemen, as it’s clear to see that snagging a title for Miss Smythe is her sole aim in life. Let’s not waste more time talking of Mrs. Smythe, I find the topic excessively tedious. Tell me all about Camarden, particularly the famous fox hunt. How was it this year?”
As they danced, Mirabella recalled that Lord Southam was a superb dancer for a man of his bulk. She regaled him with anecdotes of the fox hunt, including Mr. Rosborough’s garb and how, unfortunately and inexplicably, Mr. Eldridge’s old mare had gotten it into her head that she would back up instead of going forward, and had backed right into a fallen tree, lost her balance, and sat down, causing Mr. Eldridge to slide off backward. Lord Southam showed a flattering interest in her conversation; generally Mirabella had found that men loved more to talk of themselves than to listen to a young lady prattling on. But Lord Southam’s repartee, though a little heavy, was clever and engaging. She enjoyed the dance immensely.
There were four more dances before the first waltz, and Mirabella found that she was particularly looking forward to waltzing with Lord Southam. She watched unobtrusively as he did the allemande with Lady Jersey. She talked incessantly, as usual, but he was smiling at her. Her manner was obviously flirtatious.
It was time for the waltz, and there was no little confusion in arranging the couples in a circle, for the dancers were accustomed to dancing only in lines. At length the waltz began. Mirabella noted that Lord Southam held her closer than Giles had done, although of course their bodies didn’t actually touch. He was such a big man, and so muscular, that she was very aware of his nearness and warmth.
“Never in this life did I think I’d be waltzing at Almack’s,” he said with amusement. “Look there, it’s as I suspected, Mrs. Drummond-Burrell looks as if she’s bitten into a lemon. I can’t fathom how they persuaded her to allow it.”
“I’m not privy to the patronesses’ weekly meetings, but I believe that
sometimes Lady Jersey and Countess Lieven simply overpower her. Lady Jersey, in particular, can leave you somewhat breathless, can she not?” Mirabella said brightly.
“In a manner of speaking,” he replied carelessly. “May I compliment you on your waltz, Lady Mirabella. You’re really quite accomplished and graceful, unlike some others.” He nodded to the other side of the circle. An elderly gentleman and an elderly lady were apparently having some trouble with their change step, as every time they switched their direction they fell a little farther behind the couple in front of them. The dancers behind them were getting rather too close together.
“Oh dear, it appears that we may have some sort of jam-up,” Mirabella said, the dimples flashing. “Like the carriages on Piccadilly.”
He smiled. “Do you know, you are delightful. It’s refreshing, for I find many young ladies to be vapid and banal. Here, I think we must compensate, or we’re all likely to end up in a lump. We must turn circles in one place until we can manage to space out again.”
Again Mirabella found him to be charming. She thought he might ask to take her in to supper, but after the waltz he disappeared.
Precisely at eleven supper was announced. Lewin escorted Mirabella in, and Giles escorted Josephine, and they sat together. In contrast to the ballroom, the supper room was plainly furnished, with straight-backed chairs and long tables covered with white cloths. It was painted an uninspired blue and the sole decorations on the walls were the candle sconces, which were of gold. The food and drink at Almack’s was famous, or infamous, for it was so plain as to be insipid. The bread was a day old so that it could be sliced very thinly, the cake was simple and unflavored. No alcoholic beverages were served, only tea and lemonade, and both of those were watery.
Josephine said, “Now I can understand why you insisted we eat before we came, Mirabella. I admit I’m surprised at this lamentable fare. But no, I shan’t complain at all, I’m having a marvelous time.”