'Gina, you look positively splendid!' cried Mair. 'You are putting us in the shade.'
'Nonsense! You both look charming. Elspeth, would you like to wear my necklace of river pearls? Mair may have this ornament for her hair.'
'Pearls too!' Simple as the jewels were, the girls preened themselves, reconciled to the fact that they were both in the simplest of white dresses.
Gina smiled at them. 'We'll do,' she teased. 'At the very least we won't frighten the horses.'
They were still laughing as they set off for the Grange, but as they drew closer Mair grew silent.
Gina was quick to sense it. 'What is it, darling?' she asked.
'I shan't be able to think of anything to say,' Mair whispered in despair. "They'll all think me stupid.'
'Not a bit of it! Ask them about themselves. After that you won't need to say another word of your own, but you'll gain the reputation of a brilliant conversationalist.'
'That's an unkind thing to say.' Mair began to laugh. 'I'm sure it isn't true!'
'Try it!' Gina advised. 'The most absorbing topics of interest for most people are their own concerns.'
'Gina, are you what is known as a cynic?' Elspeth enquired.
'No, darling, just a realist.' Gina picked up her wrap as the carriage drew to a halt, and led the way into the house.
As she walked into the salon followed by the girls there was a hush. Then India came towards her with a welcoming smile.
'I don't propose to treat you as a stranger, Lady Whitelaw,' she said quickly. 'Welcome home to Abbot Quincey. We are all so glad to see you again, are we not, Mama?'
Mrs Rushford had had much to think about in the past few days. If the former Gina Westcott was now as wealthy as Lord Isham had suggested, it would be the height of folly to ruin the chances of her only son with an ill-timed fit of pique. Besides, she dared not snub the girl or attempt to quell her pretensions with Isham's eyes upon her.
She came forward holding out her hands. 'Little Gina!' she said in sentimental tones. 'Who would have thought that you would come back to us as Lady Whitelaw?'
'Not many people, I imagine, ma'am.' Gina affected not to see the outstretched hands. 'May I present Mair and Elspeth to you? They are my stepdaughters.'
'Charming... charming... and scarce more than children, Lady Whitelaw...' Mrs Rushford was about to give her views on the unsuitability of allowing young people to dine with their elders, but Gina turned away.
'You will remember my sister, Letty, I think?' India continued.
'Of course. I remember you with pleasure. You were always such a happy child.'
'Letty is even happier now. She has just become engaged to Oliver Wells.'
Gina's felicitations were sincere. As a child growing up in Abbot Quincey she had always liked the Rushford children and their father. They'd been kind to her, unlike their snobbish mother, who'd spoken to her only to administer some sharp rebuke for speaking up too freely when accused of some trivial misdemeanour.
'Anthony you know very well, but this is Mr Thomas Newby, who is our house-guest, and already one of the family.'
Thomas bowed. 'You are too kind. I have already had the pleasure of meeting Lady Whitelaw and her daughters. We met when Giles and I were out riding some few days ago.' He beamed at the girls and won a smile from each of them.
'Giles, you said nothing of this. What a dark horse you are!'
His sister's teasing had no effect on Giles. His formal bow was perfection, but his face was expressionless.
'I see what it is,' India began to laugh. 'Giles fears for his dignity. He knows that you remember him as a grubby lad, forever falling out of trees.'
This brought a smile from the assembled company and Gina turned to the object of their amusement.
'I promise to forget it,' she said lightly. 'There, it is gone, and lost in the mists of time.' She nodded as if to dismiss the subject, and turned back to India.
'I was hoping to offer my condolences to the Dowager Lady Isham,' she announced. 'Isham has told me that she lost her son. It must have been a great sorrow to her.'
'It hit her very hard,' India agreed. 'Lucia has been very brave, but sometimes She prefers to be alone. Tonight she will dine in her room.'
'I understand.' Gina grew thoughtful. 'For a mother it must be the greatest tragedy in the world. You will give her my good wishes, will you not?'
'So kind, Lady Whitelaw.' Mrs Rushford sat down beside them and heaved a gusty sigh. 'A mother's heart must bleed for her. Should anything happen to my darling Giles I should not want to live. Such a tower of strength as he has been since the loss of my dear husband.' She touched a lace-trimmed handkerchief to her eyes.
'Mama, please don't distress yourself. Did we not promise each other that this was to be a happy occasion? Lady Whitelaw and her daughters will be such an asset to the village.'
'True!' Mrs Rushford gave a brave smile and returned her unsullied handkerchief to her reticule. 'Have you seen your parents yet, my dear?'
'I called at the bakery,' Gina replied in unaffected tones. If it was vulgar to be in trade so be it. She was not ashamed of her background. That, in her eyes, would be an even greater vulgarity. 'My parents are both well, thank you, ma'am.'
'You did not visit the new house? Why, my dear, it is very fine. I declare that I have been hoping this age for an invitation.'
India exchanged a look with her sister, half amused and half irritated by such a bare-faced lie. Mrs Rushford would have considered an invitation from a tradesman as an insult in itself. It would not even have merited a reply.
'You intend to widen your circle of acquaintance, Isabel? A worthy notion...' Isham looked down at his mother-in-law, his dark face alive with amusement.
Mrs Rushford gave him an uncertain glance. Totally devoid of humour herself, she was never sure whether Anthony was being sarcastic or merely funning.
'Naturally,' she replied in & defensive tone. 'We must all move with the times...' In its way this was an admission that the once despised lower classes were beginning to encroach upon the ranks of the aristocracy, but it was a faux pas which reduced her companions to silence.
Gina was the first to recover. A lesser woman might have been crushed by the condescending tone of Mrs Rushford's statement, but Gina's lips began to twitch. It was only with an effort that she preserved her countenance, and when she turned to India her eyes were twinkling.
'Lady Isham, I believe that you and your sister attended Mrs Guarding's Academy? Is she still accepting pupils? Mair and Elspeth must finish their education, and I will apply there if you recommend it.'
'Pray don't think of it, Lady Whitelaw.' Mrs Rushford interrupted in an uncompromising tone. 'That woman corrupts young minds. The place should be closed by order of the magistrates. She preaches sedition.'
Lord Isham took a seat beside her with every expectation of enjoyment. 'Strong words, Isabel! Will you not explain?'
'You know my views,' Mrs Rushford retorted. 'She tries to turn her pupils into blue-stockings, filling their heads with nonsense about independence and women's rights. No man wants a pert, opinionated woman to wife.' Her gaze fell upon Gina, who gave her the sweetest of smiles.
'But neither does a sensible man wish for his lifelong companion and the mother of his children to be an empty-headed nincompoop,' Giles said hotly.
'Of course not, my dear boy. You misunderstand me. A girl must be trained to be an ornament to society. She must learn to carry herself gracefully, to dress well, to dance, to sing' a little, and there can be no objections to lessons in painting and drawing.'
Gina's shoulders were shaking. Her own 'training', such as it was, had been very different, especially as it had included lessons in marksmanship. She had also learnt how to throw a knife. These accomplishments were, however, unlikely to be of use to young ladies brought up in the heart of England.
She raised her head to find that Giles was looking at her. She suspected that, as always, he had read her min
d, for his own eyes were dancing. She looked away.
'Mama, we learned those things at Mrs Guarding's Academy,' Letty protested gently. 'Her teachers were the best that could be found.'
'Some of them, if not others,' her mother said darkly. 'However, I don't propose to indulge in gossip.'
With a valiant effort, India avoided her husband's eye, and also that of Letty, but the tirade wasn't over.
'What, may I ask, is the use of filling a young woman's head with mathematics, and so-called philosophy, which, as I understand it, is simply another name for radical views? It will not help her to run her household or hire and fire her servants.'
'Mrs Guarding seeks merely to teach a girl to use her mind,' India protested. 'The actual subjects do not matter over-much.'
'That's as maybe! That woman has done untold damage. Look at your cousin Hester! She's a constant worry to her parents. And as for that trollop, Desiree Nash, she should be whipped at the cart's tail. Teaching philosophy, Greek and Latin. She'd have taught her pupils more than that if Mrs Guarding hadn't dismissed her.'
India gave a discreet cough to call her mother's attention to the fact that Mair and Elspeth had drifted away from Thomas Newby's side when schooling was mentioned, and were both listening with avid interest to Mrs Rushford's remarks.
It was fortunate that at that moment dinner was announced. With his customary courtesy Isham offered his arm to Mrs Rushford. Thomas Newby escorted India and Giles offered an arm to Gina and Letty.
Gina found herself seated between Giles and Lord Isham. She had not expected it, and was disturbed to be so close to her former love. His hand was inches from her own, and when he reached across her shoulders to help her remove her gauzy scarf his fingers touched the bare flesh of her neck.
Giles started back as if he'd been stung.
'I beg your pardon,' he muttered.
'Not at all,' Gina replied politely. 'It is kind of you to help me. Some of these fashions are well enough in their way, but a scarf is not improved when it falls into the soup.'
It was not the most sophisticated of remarks. Gina felt that she was babbling to hide the fact that her senses were on fire. Her heart was beating wildly, but she was determined not to betray herself. The long-practised self-control came to her aid once more. She turned to Isham.
'What do you think, Anthony? Shall I send the girls to the Academy?'
'By all means. The standard of teaching is high. You won't do better for them.' Isham smiled down at his companion, apparently unaware of the tension in the air. Yet he had felt it from the first. Gina was more on edge than he had ever known her. There was some mystery here.
Chapter Four
'Shall you go up to London for the Season, Lady Whitelaw?' Thomas enquired.
'We've decided to postpone that pleasure until next year, when Mair comes out. Anthony, I hope, will advise us as to a house when the time comes.'
Lord Isham nodded his agreement.
Then Gina was possessed by an imp of mischief. 'Besides,' she said, 'before I go I must learn to waltz...'
'Shocking!' There was a sniff of disapproval from Mrs Rushford. 'Young men careering about a ballroom with ladies in their arms? I must hope that my own girls won't consider it.'
'I'm sorry to hear you say so,' Gina replied solemnly. 'The Prince Regent finds it delightful. In future it will be the rage at all his parties.'
'Which, of course, you will attend, Lady Whitelaw?' There was no mistaking the malicious note in Mrs Rushford's voice.
'Why yes, I believe so, ma'am.' Gina regarded her questioner with an innocent gaze. 'We are invited to Brighton in September.'
This was enough to reduce Mrs Rushford to silence, and Thomas Newby stepped into the breach.
'When I left town Lady Caroline Lamb was holding waltz parties in the mornings,' he observed to no one in particular. 'It gave me a chance to practice.'
'Truly, can you waltz?' Elspeth was seated beside him, much to her delight. Now she gazed at him with awe.
'I make some kind of a stab at it,' he admitted modestly.
'I don't suppose...I mean...if you came to see us would you show us how it is done?' Elspeth knew that whispering was rude, but she wasn't exactly whispering, was she? She was simply speaking in too low a voice for her words to reach Mrs Rushford's ears.
Thomas replied in the same tone. 'Glad to, Miss Elspeth, if your stepmama don't mind. Got to be up to the mark with the latest fads and fancies, haven't we?'
'Oh, you do understand!' Elspeth gave him a grateful look. 'When one is almost out it is very hard to be treated like a child. Gina doesn't do it, but other people do. I hope she won't insist on sending us to that Academy to finish our education.'
'Well, as I understand it, it isn't a school, Miss Elspeth. It's more like a university for ladies, in a small way, of course.' He smiled. 'It might turn you into a revolutionary.'
Elspeth giggled. 'Are you a revolutionary, Mr Newby?'
'Not I! Don't understand these politician fellows. Always arguing about something, and never getting anything done.' His voice had risen and his words were clearly audible during a pause in the conversation of his fellow guests.
'You are very hard on us, Newby.' Anthony was laughing openly. 'Give us some credit, man. We do try, you know.'
Thomas flushed to the roots of his hair, and he made haste to apologise to his host. 'I didn't mean you, my lord. We know how hard you've worked to ease conditions in the north, and for the machinists here.'
Isham grinned at him. 'So it doesn't all escape you, Mr Newby?'
'I talk to people,' Thomas said vaguely. 'What I know don't come from books, my lord.'
'Many more of us might profit by your example,' Isham replied. 'Sometimes I feel that we foist our ideas on the people, giving them what we think they need, instead of what they want.'
'My dear Anthony! Unlettered louts? Would you have them decide the conduct of the country?' Mrs Rushford could contain herself no longer.
'I thought you believed in a lack of education?' Anthony said mildly. 'Have we not just been discussing the matter?'
'We were speaking of women,' his mother-in-law replied in angry tones.
It was enough to bring India into the conversation with a request to be brought up to date with the London gossip.
'I hope you don't mind,' she said to Gina in a low voice. 'I'll take care to see that nothing untoward reaches the ears of the girls, though Mr Newby will be well aware of the need for discretion in young company.'
She was right. Thomas rose to the occasion. In minutes he had them laughing at the Prince Regent's favourite story.
'Do stop me if you've heard it...' He looked around the table. 'It's the one about the running race.'
'Oh, no! Do tell us!' Elspeth couldn't contain her curiosity, and was rewarded with a look from Mrs Rushford which indicated that young people should be seen and not heard.
'Very well then. This is the story of the fattest man in Brighton. He wagered heavily on himself to win a foot race against the town's best runner.'
'That doesn't sound very sensible...' Gina was smiling as she awaited the outcome of the story.
'He was cunning, ma'am. He made only two conditions. The first was that he should choose the route, and the second was that he should have a ten-yard start. As you can imagine, there were no objections. In fact, he was offered a fifty-yard start, but he didn't take it.'
'The spectators must have thought him mad,' Giles interjected. 'The odds against him winning must have been enormous.'
'They were, but this crafty fellow made a fortune. When the starting pistol was fired he set off down the narrowest streets in Brighton at a jog-trot. His rival came up from behind, but he couldn't pass that vast bulk. Our hero filled the narrow lanes from side to side.'
Even Mrs Rushford was forced to smile. 'Mr Newby, are you acquainted with the Prince?' she asked.
'No, ma'am, my father...er...feels that his fortune would be insufficient to support m
e in those circles.'
This brought another smile from the assembled company.
'Even so, I'd like to see his palace by the sea,' Thomas admitted. 'I'm told It's like an Oriental seraglio, whatever that is.'
Being well acquainted with the exact meaning of the word, Isham felt it time to step in.
'The Prince refers to his place as a cottage,' he said with some amusement. 'In view of the vast sums lavished on it, it must be the most expensive cottage in the country.'
'Do you like it, Anthony?' Gina was curious.
'It isn't to my taste. I have no quarrel with this fascination for the East and Orientalism. Some of the Prince's treasures are very fine indeed. However, it is difficult to appreciate so many when they fill every room.'
'I hear that he keeps the place at hothouse temperature.' Mrs Rushford was fascinated by this glimpse into the lifestyle of the heir to the throne.
'He does, ma'am, and that, combined with his taste for busy wallpapers and extravagant decoration of every kind, has had a stifling effect on some of his visitors. A lady of my acquaintance described it as "fairly buzzing". It made her feel quite faint.'
'So one must suffer a little if one wishes to hear the Prince sing or conduct the orchestra in his music room?'
'Yes, Gina. You must be prepared for some discomfort when you visit Brighton in September.'
'We shan't mind. I hear he has a pleasant singing voice and reads the poetry of Scott and Southey to perfection. That will please Mair.'
'Your stepdaughter will be in a minority,' Mrs Rushford retorted sharply. "The Regent is one of the most unpopular men in England with his constant spending, and his disloyalty to his friends, to say nothing of certain other matters.' She glanced significantly at the two young girls. 'As for that poor wife of his...!'
Gina was tempted to ask which wife she had in mind. It was common knowledge that the Prince had gone through some sort of wedding ceremony with his mistress, Mrs Fitzherbert, before his official marriage to the Princess Caroline. His reputation as a bigamist did nothing to enhance his popularity in the country.
'Now, Mama, we know that you champion the Princess's cause, but we must leave the gentlemen to their port...' India rose from the table, anxious to avoid a diatribe about the Regent's treatment of his wife. She herself imagined that there must be faults on both sides, but her mother would not hear of it.
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