Tempting Sarah

by Gayle Buck

  Sarah stared at Lady Frobisher. “Pray, what are you saying?”

  Lady Frobisher closed her fan and smiled. “You are clever enough to take my meaning, Sarah. Ah, here is Lord Dissinger to lead you out in the cotillion! My lord, I am glad to see you this evening. Lord Frobisher was mentioning your name to me just yesterday. He has a hunter that he wishes to show to you.”

  The tall nobleman bowed over her ladyship’s hand. “Lady Frobisher, a pleasure as always. A hunter, did you say? I shall be certain to call on his lordship tomorrow.” As Lady Frobisher excused herself with a smile, Lord Dissinger turned to Sarah. He smiled down at her. “It is my dance, I believe, Miss Sommers.”

  “Indeed it is, my lord,” said Sarah, rising from her chair and putting her hand into his. She looked up into his pleasant face. “Do you hunt much, my lord?”

  Lord Dissinger nodded, an eager light coming into his rather prominent brown eyes. “I am in the saddle morning to dusk during the hunting season. There is nothing like a good run to stir one’s blood. Do you hunt also, Miss Sommers?”

  “We lived so quietly in the country that I seldom had the opportunity, my lord. However, I think that I would like it very much. I enjoy sitting a good horse,” said Sarah.

  Lord Dissinger eagerly expounded on the manifold positive qualities of horses and hunting until they formed up in the set. Then the figures of the cotillion separated them too often to really converse. When the set ended, his lordship steered Sarah back to her chair and lingered for a moment. “I have enjoyed your company, Miss Sommers. Perhaps, if you do not dislike it, I shall call on you later in the week,” he said.

  “I shall not mind it in the least. Lord Dissinger,” said Sarah with a smile. She gave her hand to him as he bowed farewell.

  Lord Eustace came up to her, exchanging a nod with Lord Dissinger as his lordship left. He bowed to Sarah. “I hope that you kept a set open for me. Miss Sommers,” he said.

  Sarah felt a faint flutter in her breast as she consulted her dance card. “I do have one opening, my lord.” She looked up with a smile. “I am free for the next reel.”

  Lord Eustace sat down on the chair beside her. “I shall wait with you until it strikes up.”

  Sarah looked at him. “I am surprised that you are here this evening, my lord. I did not think that Almack’s was just in your line.”

  He looked inquiringly at her. “Why would you think that, Miss Sommers?”

  Sarah’s color rose. She could not very well disclose that she and his sister had been gossiping about him. For answer, she gestured at the crowded ballroom. “It is a younger company than you must really care for, Lord Eustace.”

  “Do you mean that I am past the age of my callow youth?” asked Lord Eustace, smiling.

  Sarah chuckled. “Just so, my lord! I was informed that Almack’s is commonly referred to as the Marriage Mart because each Season’s newest crop of debutantes make their initial bows to society here. That explains my own presence, naturally, though I am a bit older than most.”

  Lord Eustace laughed. “Perhaps, Miss Sommers, but you are hardly an anecdote. I imagine that you have already excited the interest of several admirers this evening.”

  “You are kind, my lord. But I suspect that my sister is more likely to take the honors rather than I. I don’t believe that I have been able to exchange more than two words with her all evening,” said Sarah, nodding in her sister’s direction.

  Lord Eustace’s gaze followed hers. “Yes, so I have noticed. Miss Margaret draws admiration like bees to honey. She has already made a mark for herself.”

  Sarah glanced at him, surprised by the reflective tone of his voice. “Do you disapprove, my lord?”

  He glanced at her swiftly. “Of course not! What have I to say to anything? I was merely remarking upon your own observation, Miss Sommers.” He stood up and held his hand down to her. “I believe that the reel is striking up, Miss Sommers. Will you honor me, ma’am?”

  “Certainly, my lord,” said Sarah, rising, and putting her hand into his.

  The remainder of the evening went off very pleasantly. Sarah danced nearly every set. She knew that Margaret had, too. Neither of them was stigmatized as a wallflower, as happened to one or two unhappy maidens.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  Over the next few days it became obvious that Miss Sommers and her sister, Miss Margaret, had been favorably received by the new society that they had entered. A flattering number of posies and cards from admirers were left at the town house.

  Lady Alverley graciously received some of the bolder gentlemen when they came to call, showing them a civil hospitality. Sarah and Margaret enjoyed the visits from their admirers. The attention lavished upon them was very pleasant for two country misses who were used to spending much of their time in a solitary fashion.

  One afternoon, it seemed as though a dam had broken and the drawing room was filled with so many visitors that the gathering almost resembled a private party. Mr. Lawrence, a fine gentleman of dandified tastes, came with his sister, Miss Penelope Lawrence. Miss Lawrence was a particular friend of Margaret’s. They had met at Almack’s and it was Miss Lawrence’s praises for her new friend that had originally piqued her brother’s interest in meeting the young beauty. Mr. Lawrence had accompanied his sister to Almack’s the following Wednesday and upon first sight of Miss Margaret Sommers had promptly declared himself to have been knocked for a loop. He had subsequently become one of Margaret’s most faithful of swains.

  Sir Thomas Eppherd, who was known for his powerful showing in several private curricle races, was also patently smitten with Margaret. When he entered the drawing room and realized that Mr. Lawrence had arrived before him, he virtually ground his teeth. Thereafter the two eyed one another with jealous gazes and jostled for position in winning Margaret’s dazzling smiles.

  The rivalry between Mr. Lawrence and Sir Thomas did not perturb Margaret. She preferred those two youthful gentlemen to Lord Mittenger, whose serious mien was rather daunting. Casting the baron a thoughtful glance as he crossed the room toward her sister, Margaret confided behind her hand to Miss Lawrence, “I never know quite what to say to the baron.”

  “Nor I,” agreed Miss Lawrence in a whisper. “My brother says that he is rather stiff-rumped.”

  Margaret went into a peal of laughter. Her admirers begged to be let in on the secret, but she only shook her head. “No, no! It is a private joke between Penelope and myself.”

  Captain Jeffries also seemed to have found favor in Margaret’s eyes, though she was more likely to address her funning remarks to Mr. Lawrence or Sir Thomas. Captain Jeffries did not seem to mind being slighted in such a fashion. He reposed at his ease in a nearby wingback, stroking his mustaches with one finger as he listened to the heated exchanges between the other two younger men. He watched Margaret with an intent gleam in his eyes, joining in the conversation only as it suited him.

  The baron’s sister had come with him and Mrs. Braddon had at once ensconced herself in a corner with Miss Hanson. The ladies were of similar age and tastes and were thoroughly enjoying a comfortable cose together. Lady Alverley was in deep conversation with one of her own cronies, Mrs. Philby. Her ladyship was learning for the first time precisely what sort of musicale that her granddaughters had enjoyed at Mrs. Jeffries’s home and her brows scaled into her hairline.

  “Well! I am vastly disappointed in Elizabeth Jeffries. I thought she had more sense than to allow such loose conduct,” said Lady Alverley. “And you and Annette Lozanger countenanced it! I am amazed, utterly amazed.”

  Mrs. Philby chuckled. “Oh, do come down off of your high ropes, Adelaide. It is the fault of the younger set, particularly the military. We live in such uncertain times that a certain wild streak surfaces now and then. Fortunately, Elizabeth Jeffries knows just where she should draw the line. I watched particularly and I saw no real misconduct.”

  “I trust that my granddaughters did not encourage any gentlemen to l
ay their heads on the cushions beside them,” said Lady Alverley repressively.

  Mrs. Philby laughed, shaking her head. “My dear Adelaide! They are as starched-up as you are yourself! You should have seen their expressions when they entered the drawing room. For an instant, I thought that they might bolt.”

  Lady Alverley at last smiled. “I am glad to hear it. It gives me a very comfortable notion of their characters.”

  “Quite,” said Mrs. Philby, nodding. “You need not be anxious on their accounts. They will not give you a single fretful moment, I am certain.”

  Lord Eustace was announced and he advanced to make his bows to Lady Alverley. He exchanged civilities for a few minutes with both her ladyship and Mrs. Philby, who was naturally known to him.

  Sarah noticed his lordship’s entrance and she exchanged a smile and a civil nod with him before she turned back to her own companion. She had much enjoyed talking to Lord Dissinger. He had made her laugh more than once during his visit and she felt at ease with him. Since meeting his lordship, she had heard someone refer to him as being rather jingle-brained and she had to admit that there was some troth in the description. There was not much on his lordship’s mind but his hunters and how he was best going to entertain himself that Season. He related to Sarah several wild schemes as they chanced to rise out of his fertile imagination, causing her to exclaim once, “My lord! You must not be so foolhardy. I would not like to hear that you have had an accident.”

  Lord Dissinger appeared gratified. “I wouldn’t wish to cause you any anxiety, Miss Sommers. So perhaps I shan’t do it, after all.”

  Lord Mittenger had come over and he listened to the conversation with a slightly disdainful expression on his face. He was a proud man and felt himself to be beyond the wasteful extravagances of youth. “Certainly that is the better part of wisdom, my lord. One hopes that this flash of steadiness takes permanent root.”

  Lord Dissinger looked at the baron with dislike. “Your expression of concern is touching, sir.”

  The baron smiled gravely and bowed. “Not at all, my lord. I would offer the same advice to my young nephew. He is five years of age and prone to equally fantastical notions.”

  Lord Dissinger’s pleasant features stiffened. “Indeed! Poor little whelp. I should think he would run and hide whenever he caught sight of you.”

  Lord Mittenger puffed out his cheeks and glared at Lord Dissinger.

  Hostilities were fairly joined and Sarah glanced around for help. She met Lord Eustace’s amused expression. “Lord Eustace, pray come join us. I believe that I overheard you saying a moment ago that you have commissioned a new phaeton to be built. Is it of your own design?”

  Lord Eustace said a word to Lady Alverley, who smiled and bestowed a nod on him, before he stepped over. “Yes, Miss Sommers. I decided that I wished to extend the shaft, as well as make a few other minor changes.”

  In short order, Lord Mittenger and Lord Dissinger had forgotten their antagonism and began plying Lord Eustace with questions. Sarah was relieved. She knew that Lord Mittenger had a hobby of designing anything and everything that took his fancy, and that nothing would excite Lord Dissinger’s interest more than to discover that Lord Eustace meant to try racing the phaeton once he had acquired a superior team.

  “A four-in-hand?” Lord Dissinger frowned thoughtfully. “Tricky, my lord, very tricky!”

  Naturally, when Sir Thomas realized what was being discussed, he was also drawn into the conversation. He had several words of advice for Lord Eustace on the different courses that were generally used for carriage racing. “If you like, I would be happy to take you over what I consider to be the most challenging of roads,” he offered.

  Sarah detached herself unobtrusively and went to sit with Lady Alverley. Mrs. Philby had just taken her leave and the place beside her grandmother was empty. Her ladyship nodded to her and murmured, “You managed that very adroitly, my dear.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Poor Lord Eustace! I have quite callously thrown him into the breach,” said Sarah quietly.

  Lady Alverley laughed. “Oh, you need not worry overmuch about Lord Eustace. A more suave gentleman I have yet to meet. Tell me, my dear, what think you of Margaret’s various beaus?”

  Sarah glanced over at her sister. Margaret was seated on the settee opposite them. Miss Lawrence on one side of her and Mr. Lawrence on the other. Captain Jeffries had left his chair and was leaning over the back. Margaret was laughing merrily at something that had been said and both gentlemen were smiling. “Why, I think that they are a pleasant enough set. Grandmama.”

  “Quite. However, those gentlemen who seem to be particularly taken with Margaret are almost as young as she is herself,” said Lady Alverley. Her ladyship shook her head. “I do hope that Margaret attracts a number of more sober, settled gentlemen before the Season is out.”

  “Is it so unnatural that Margaret is drawn to the younger gentlemen and they to her, Grandmama?” asked Sarah.

  “Of course not. In fact, I would have been greatly astonished if it had been otherwise. Margaret is still such a child. She enjoys pranks and jokes and gaudy uniforms. It is no wonder that she prefers those two over there and Sir Thomas instead of an eminently suitable parti such as Lord Mittenger,” said Lady Alverley.

  “If it is any consolation, ma’am, Margaret also prefers to surround herself with young misses of her own age, such as Miss Lawrence,” said Sarah gently. “I don’t think that she has actually given any thought to the future just yet, or the connections that she is in the process of making. She is enjoying herself too much for such sober reflections.”

  Lady Alverley nodded. “Just as I was thinking, also. Once Margaret has acquired a little town bronze, she will settle down and her natural good sense will assert itself. I am confident that she will make a suitable match when all is said and done.”

  “I am sure of it, Grandmama,” agreed Sarah, keeping her reflections to herself. She knew that Lady Alverley had expectations of seeing both her and her sister betrothed before the end of the Season. Margaret had maintained from the first that her primary ambition was simply to enjoy the Season. If a suitable offer was made to her, she might well consider it, but it was not to be taken for granted that she would accept it.

  For herself, Sarah wondered what she would do if an offer were made to her by any of her current admirers. Though she enjoyed the attentions from other gentlemen, she had already discovered that she had a preference for Lord Eustace’s company. It was unfortunately clear to her, however, even if to no one else yet, that his lordship had his gaze firmly fixed on her sister.

  Lord Eustace was circumspect. He observed all of the polite conventions, always paying the same amount of attention to any lady within his orbit. But there was a queer hunger in his lordship’s eyes whenever he looked at Margaret that betrayed emotions that he did not harbor for any other lady. Sarah had seen that expression a number of times, perhaps because she was peculiarly sensitive where Lord Eustace was concerned. She had observed that Lord Eustace never had that look except when he was in Margaret’s company.

  Sarah loved Margaret. She had never envied her sister for anything, until now. Sarah felt a certain bleakness in the vicinity of her heart. She again glanced over at her sister, who was at that moment receiving Lord Eustace’s bows.

  Sarah pinned on a smile. It made for good practice. No one must ever know that she had fallen in love with a gentleman who preferred her sister.

  * * * *

  As Sarah and Margaret became fully launched, Lady Alverley contemplated their successful progress with satisfaction. Invitations continued to pour in at the town house. She and her granddaughters were scarcely ever at home. Accompanied almost invariably by Lady Alverley and Miss Hanson, Sarah and Margaret attended routs, card parties, soirees, suppers, and private breakfasts. A water party was spectacularly successful, (earning Lady Alverley’s envy and that of every other hostess, as well), consisting of a ride in a carpeted boat with a choice supp
er from Gunter’s. At Vauxhall Gardens, they enjoyed the splendor of an outdoor fireworks display. Madame Tussaud’s waxworks in the Strand was worth one visit, but Sarah and Margaret agreed that the horrific sight of the victims of the French Revolution was enough to last a lifetime.

  Every Season, Lady Alverley and Miss Hanson attended performances of the Philharmonic Society Orchestra. Sarah and Margaret accompanied them when they went to the next concert at Hanover Rooms in Hanover Square. The music was well done and was greatly appreciated by the audience.

  Sarah was as much entertained by those in the audience as she was by the musical program. One gentleman in particular stood out in sharp relief to his neighbors. There were several empty seats all around him, with just a handful of others inside the circle. It was obvious that the center was the short thin gentleman. His coat was ridiculously padded and so were the calves of his stockings. He wore spots of rouge on each cheekbone and he kept flourishing an oversized, lace-edged handkerchief, carrying it often to his mouth or long sharp nose. His fingers were covered with several large, flashing rings.

  As the evening ended, Sarah leaned toward her grandmother. “I must ask you, Grandmama. Who is that extraordinary creature?”

  Lady Alverley glanced round. She smiled slightly and with a hint of distaste in her voice, said, “That is the Marquis of Yarwood. He is a prominent patron of the arts.”

  “Why is he seated in such haughty seclusion, ma’am?” asked Sarah.

  “Those are the marquis’s confidantes. No one else is allowed to sit near his lordship. He is a hypochondriac and fears that he might catch some disease from the crowd,” said Lady Alverley.

  Sarah stared at her. “You cannot be serious, ma’am!”

  “Am I not? The marquis is very rich and so his paranoias are tolerated. I am rather surprised to see his lordship, actually. He is so rarely seen in society these days because of his fears. He remains unmarried for the same reason,” said Lady Alverley.