A Sapphire Season

by Lynn Morris

  “Sir, how presumptuous you are!” Mirabella said, her eyes dancing. “Requesting dances nine days ahead of a ball!”

  Lady FitzGeorge said merrily, “I find it daring, and admire his pluck, Mirabella. Surely you can’t refuse such a charming request.”

  With an appearance of reluctance Mirabella said, “No, I suppose I cannot. Yes, Lord Trevor, you may have the quadrille and the first waltz.”

  Mr. Aldington said ruefully, “It is genius, Brydges, I wish I’d thought of it first. However, I shall risk being thought a sad mime, and ask all three of you ladies for the honor of two dances at Lady Mirabella’s ball.”

  With amusement the ladies agreed. Mirabella said, “I confess I’m surprised that you don’t request the waltz, Mr. Aldington, it’s all the rage, and seems to be the first choice of gentlemen. Now that I think of it, I don’t believe I’ve seen you waltz. Is it possible that you haven’t yet mastered it?”

  Mr. Aldington began to answer, but Lord Trevor, with a devilish air, said, “Oh, he can waltz very well, we all learned it in Vienna. But some people, in particular Lord Byron, have said that it shouldn’t be danced in polite English society. He maintains that it’s scandalous for couples to embrace in public.”

  Aldington rasped, “Brydges, at times you go too far. My ladies, Miss Rosborough, I assure you that I think no ill, at all, of anyone who chooses to waltz. He exaggerates, I do not waltz well, I find I’m as awkward as a goat when I attempt it, therefore I save myself from the humiliation.”

  Mirabella said, “It’s really quite all right, Mr. Aldington, we know you would never say the least thing to offend. I myself had conflicting feelings about it when I first learned. In truth, I believe I blurted out the identical phrase that Lord Byron used. I’m amazed that he and I should agree on such a matter.”

  Mr. Aldington said quietly, “I know that he has a scandalous reputation, but not all of that is his fault, you know. He does possess a great sense of propriety, particularly regarding ladies.”

  Lady FitzGeorge laughed, a low, throaty sound. “So he does, in public. In private I hear he’s not so fastidious.”

  Mr. Aldington looked slightly distressed but didn’t respond. Lord Trevor said lightly, “Oh, Byron’s all right, he just has a tendency for dramatics, from one extreme to the other, and he gets entangled, shall we say. I feel some sympathy for him, he’s fairly hiding from Lady Caroline Lamb. Her insane antics have reflected, perhaps unfairly, on him.”

  “Yes, they have,” Mr. Aldington readily agreed.

  “I suppose he can’t be blamed that she fell so rabidly in love with him that their estrangement made her stark barking mad,” Lady FitzGeorge said acidly. “That is, except for the part about him making her fall in love with him.”

  Lord Trevor said, “Our merry party is deteriorating into melancholy, which would suit Byron but does not suit me. Lady Mirabella, by chance are you going to eat all of your macaroons? Since Lady FitzGeorge hasn’t seen fit to offer her marshmallow cherry paste, I would be obliged if you would be so generous as to share with me.”

  “Don’t you dare, Mirabella, I did place a precondition on sharing with him,” Lady FitzGeorge warned. “And he’s been most impertinent.”

  “So sorry, Rosalind,” Mirabella said sweetly, “but I find his request daring, and I admire his pluck. Lord Trevor, you may come sit by me and share my macaroons.”

  He did so with great enthusiasm, and the ladies exchanged amused glances.

  But Mr. Denys Aldington looked wistful, perhaps even doleful. Mirabella thought that she knew the reason why, and felt sorry for him.

  But she was wrong.

  Chapter Ten

  Mirabella and Josephine had another most congenial night at Almack’s, and arrived home at three o’clock in the morning. As they were going upstairs Mirabella asked, “Dearest, are you fatigued? Do you wish to retire?”

  “No, not at all. Shall I come to your room?”

  “Yes, as soon as you’re undressed, I’ll send Colette to you first, it takes me so much longer because she has to do my hair.”

  Soon the girls were making themselves comfortable in Mirabella’s bedroom. Mirabella said with disdain, “You are so fortunate to have such glorious hair. I despise wearing these curling rags, they look positively ludicrous.”

  “No one sees you in them except me and Colette and we don’t think you look ludicrous.”

  “Still, I can’t bear to look in the mirror when I’m all tied up. In fact, one of them on the back of my head is much too tight, will you help me find the particular demon and loosen it?” This took no little time, for Colette was very conscientious in using dozens of the rags to form the wispy little Grecian curls that Mirabella favored. Finally the offending rag was located and loosened. Mirabella said, “There, I already have the beginnings of a headache. Would you share a glass of ratafia with me?”

  “That sounds inviting, after Almack’s abysmal lemonade.”

  “Madame Danton has created a new recipe, it’s plum, and it’s heavenly. And it seems to me it also soothes me to sleep better than the orange ratafia,” Mirabella said as she poured them two small glasses. As Mirabella had only one recamier in her bedroom, it was the custom of the girls to settle on her four-poster bed, sitting up with piles of fluffy pillows behind them.

  “And so? What did you think of the evening?” Mirabella asked.

  “It was diverting, as always,” Josephine answered, her eyes bright. “Do you know, Mirabella, even though I’ve been accepted into the highest circles of society, I know I’m still an outsider. Please don’t think I’m complaining, I would never. As a matter of fact, I find it entertaining to stand aside, as it were, and observe.”

  “Observe how? Observe what?” Mirabella asked curiously.

  “The people. The undercurrents. The nuances.”

  “Explain, please. With anecdotes.”

  “For instance, I found it interesting to see the open friction between Lady FitzGeorge and her stepdaughters. Of course that situation must always be awkward, with the stepmother only a year or two older than her stepdaughters. Or is Lady Chandos actually older than Lady FitzGeorge?”

  “She is, by a year. Lord FitzGeorge married Rosalind five years ago, when she was seventeen and he was in his late fifties, his second marriage, of course. He’d been widowed for fifteen years. He was always in ill health, and died of the pneumonia.”

  “I like Lady FitzGeorge, she’s vivacious and spirited. It’s difficult to imagine her being married to a much older, frail man.”

  “Mm, I’ve found her much altered this Season. It was an arranged marriage, of course. Rosalind’s family was penniless, but both of her parents were grandchildren of earls, and well connected. Lord FitzGeorge apparently was utterly bewitched by her, and took very good care of her and provided generously for her family. They appeared to do very well together. Rosalind seemed content.”

  “I see,” Josephine said thoughtfully. “I’ve learned that in your circles arranged marriages are very common, but I find it odd that they can be so successful. This is the first time I’ve seen Lord and Lady Jersey together, and they appear to be very devoted. It’s the same with Lord and Lady Cowper, their mutual affection and warmth is obvious. But surely he knows of her affair with Lord Palmerston.”

  “Of course he does. I’ve thought much about such things myself. I’ve come to the conclusion that an arranged marriage is as likely to be a good marriage as one resulting from supposed helpless, breathless love,” Mirabella said with some disdain. “Look at Caroline Lamb. When she married Mr. Lamb in 1805, they were so deeply in love they were almost oblivious to anyone else in the world, and they remained that way until last year, when Byron burst onto the scene, and oh my, again Caro is overcome with romantic love.”

  “But surely, dearest, Lady Caroline has a tendency toward mental illness,” Josephine said.

  Mirabella shrugged. “I could give you another dozen examples of both men and women who’ve m
ade fools of themselves, and utterly wrecked their lives, by falling in and out and in and out of love. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s usually a fallacy, all this complicated tangle of starry-eyed enchantment.”

  Hesitantly Josephine said, “Surely you haven’t always had this rather cold-blooded view.”

  Mirabella looked straight at her. “You’re speaking of Captain Pryce. It’s quite all right, it’s of no consequence. ‘When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.’ Now I understand that it’s much simpler if two mature, clear-minded people decide to make a good marriage, commit to it, and get on with their lives together.”

  “Mirabella, you cannot mean that you don’t believe that people meet, fall in love, get married, and maintain that love all of their lives.”

  “I believe that some few, some very few do. But it’s not meant for everyone.”

  Josephine sighed. “I’m not sure if I agree with you, not completely. But I won’t argue with you.”

  “How glad I am to hear it! In my mind I’ve gnawed away at stupid romantic love for so long that now I find it quite tiresome. Let’s talk of something fun.”

  “Very well. Of what particular fun shall we speak?”

  Mirabella’s eyes sparkled. “Of this one. I’ve come to a decision. No, no, that’s not right. I’ve come to a decision to make a decision.”

  “Why, yes, this sounds a merry topic indeed,” Josephine said sardonically. “The process of decision-making.”

  “Oh, you may be as droll as you like. What I mean is, there are three gentlemen that particularly interest me, and I want you to help me assess them. I value your opinion extremely.”

  Josephine rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like choosing a fabric for a gown. No, no, don’t fuss, I apologize, I said I wouldn’t argue with you any more. Who are these three extremely fortunate gentlemen?”

  “Lord Trevor Brydges, Denys Aldington, and Lord Southam.”

  “Truly? I mean, I have discerned a certain attraction between you and Lord Trevor. But Mr. Aldington and Lord Southam I find somewhat surprising.”

  Mirabella nodded and said eagerly, “That’s because you aren’t acquainted with all of the particulars of each gentleman yet, and that’s why I want you to help me assess them. You yourself said you enjoy impartial observation.”

  “One half of my mind says this must be the most preposterous conversation I’ve ever had, and the other half tells me I shouldn’t be at all surprised because it’s with you. Please proceed. How may I be of assistance?”

  “I’d like to discuss the benefits and drawbacks of each gentleman. In fact, let’s be organized with it. Come over and sit at my secretary, and here are three papers. On the first one, entitle it ‘Viscount Southam,’ and make two columns, pro et contra.”

  Josephine wrote, murmuring, “For and against.”

  Pacing behind Josephine’s chair, Mirabella said, “Now for the advantages of marriage to Lord Southam. He has already inherited his title. I’m fairly certain that his income is twenty thousand pounds or more per annum. He has a magnificent estate in Hertfordshire, and that’s close to Camarden. My children will be ‘the Honourable Firstname Wetherley,’ and when my eldest son inherits, of course he’ll be Viscount Southam.”

  Josephine finished writing, then said, “Darling, I am not arguing, I promise. It’s just difficult for me to understand this—this callous calculation.”

  Coolly Mirabella said, “We spoke of arranged marriages before. Believe me, this is exactly how parents weigh potential suitors for their daughters.”

  “By making charts?”

  “Oh, do be quiet. Now, add to the pro: I believe my parents would approve, he cuts a very manly figure and is always exquisitely tailored, and I’m fascinated by his mouth.”

  “His mouth! Have you kissed him?”

  “Certainly not!” Mirabella said indignantly. Then slyly she added, “I have thought of it, however. Oh, don’t look so shocked, we both know that physical attraction is an imperative, one can hardly contemplate marrying a troll, no matter how amiable. And I find his person, and his mouth, attractive.”

  “Mirabella, you are outrageous!”

  “Only in private, with friends. Now for the contra. I’m unsure whether he is attracted to me. He’s somewhat aloof. In point of fact, he’s rather a mystery to me, he always has been.”

  “Yes, that’s why I was surprised to hear that you were seriously contemplating him. I hadn’t observed him dancing attendance on you as so many of the young gentlemen have been doing.”

  “No, he hasn’t been, and never has. But when he is with me, he makes it seem personal, not just a display of charm and gallantry to a lady. I find it intriguing.”

  Josephine knowingly said, “I think what you find intriguing is that he isn’t pursuing you, and perhaps that may be quite clever of him. He seems to me to be an intelligent man.”

  “There, you see! That’s precisely why I wanted you to help me. So, hm, put in both columns that I find him mysterious. In time I shall discern which it is, for or against. Now, I believe that finishes Lord Southam. Let’s proceed to Lord Trevor Brydges.”

  “Lord Trevor, pro et contra. I believe even I might be able to fill in the first pro.”

  “Yes? Go on.”

  “I think he’s possibly the handsomest—no, that’s not apt at all. He’s certainly not the conventional ideal of a handsome man. He’s—rough-hewn, knife-edged, with a sort of blatant masculinity that would affect any woman. At least, that is the pro for the factor of physical attraction.”

  “Oh, no, please don’t tell me I’m going to be forced to compete with you for Lord Trevor’s attentions.”

  “Of course not, you great ninny, it would drive me to distraction to be around a man like him all of the time, I’d always be afraid he was going to dash off to fight duels or kill bears or something. I know, however, that you’re sure to find him exciting.”

  “So I do. And diverting, and entertaining, and amusing. Write all of that down. Mm, let me think…what else? Although he is the second son, his financial condition seems to be assured, for the Marquess of Levenden is extremely wealthy. I think that he has three or four estates; if I should decide to seriously consider him, I shall have Pappa find out if they are all entailed, or if one of them may come to Lord Trevor. At any rate, put that down as a pro.”

  Faithfully Josephine recorded Lord Trevor’s benefits. “What more? Any certain feature, such as Lord Southam’s mouth?”

  “No, for Lord Trevor you may write, ‘All of his features, from his face to his muscular calves,’” Mirabella replied, and both girls giggled. She continued, “One thing we should add in his favor. Giles thinks very highly of him. They went to Eton and then Oxford together, you know, and so have been friends since childhood.”

  “Now that is interesting,” Josephine said under her breath.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing, I was just muttering as I scribble.”

  “Oh. So, now for the drawbacks of marrying Lord Trevor. His financial condition, in the future, is also a contra. I have no idea if he has some sort of life benefit, or if he’ll be dependent upon his brother, the Earl of Stowe, when Lord Levenden dies and Lord Stowe inherits. Again, that’s something Pappa could find out for me, it’s generally complicated, with younger sons.”

  “Younger sons,” Josephine repeated, then said, “Oh dear, Mirabella, if you marry him should I have to call you Lady Trevor? I don’t think I could ever become accustomed to that, it would make you seem like a stranger.”

  Mirabella was amused. “Whyever should that be? I’ll still be me, and we’ll still be fast friends, no matter what I’m called. Actually, the answer is no, I should still be styled Lady Mirabella Brydges.”

  “But I thought that the wives of younger sons of marquesses and dukes were styled ‘Lady Firstname’ of the younger son.”

 
“The order of precedence dictates that the daughters of marquesses and dukes are accorded the rank of the eldest son. Since I rank as highly as Philip, I actually outrank Lord Trevor, who is a younger son of a marquess, and I shall retain my courtesy title.”

  Bewildered, Josephine asked, “But then—doesn’t that mean that if you marry Lord Southam, you can still retain your much higher rank in the order of precedence?”

  “No, if I marry anyone below the rank of marquess, that is an earl, viscount, or baron, upon my marriage I must take on their rank, and title. It’s only if you marry sort of—horizontally, if you will, that I may retain Philip’s rank.”

  “Good heavens, Mirabella, you people have the murkiest and most indecipherable rules, it’s a seven days’ wonder that anyone, in particular commoners, can ever fathom them.”

  Mirabella smiled. “My grandfather, and now my father, says that down through the centuries the nobility have designed it precisely that way, in order to keep our society completely separated from the lower classes. I think they’re right, and I share their disdain. All of our heads are so stuffed with meaningless trivial minutiae that it’s a wonder we ever learn to read and write. Now, for children. Since Lord Trevor is a younger son, they will be commoners.”

  “So that is a contra.”

  Mirabella shrugged carelessly. “I suppose. But they will have their lineage, and that will assure them a place in society, so put ‘lineage’ on the pro side.”

  Josephine looked up to study her. “This really is not of much consequence to you, is it?”

  “No, it’s not. When I was younger, my father used to often quote to me: ‘Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain.’ I used to hate it when he did, but now that I’ve gotten older I’ve come to see the truth of it. Privilege accorded to you simply by your birth is nothing to be proud of. Beauty fades, and the admiration you receive when you’re young is meaningless.” She smiled slyly, “Of course it’s rather nice all the same.”