A Heart's Rebellion

by Ruth Axtell

  They didn’t enter the park until they had reached Hyde Park Corner at the southeast corner. “There’s Number One, Apsley House,” he said, pointing his whip at a large brick mansion before the park. “It belongs to the Duke of Wellington’s older brother.”

  “I wonder if the duke will be obliged to face Napoleon in battle.”

  “There is no telling. If he does, it will be the first time.”

  A moment later, he pointed out Tattersall’s.

  “The horse auctioneers?” she asked hesitantly.

  “The very one. It is where I purchased this fine pair.”

  “They are beautiful horses.” She had never thought too much of horses except as farm animals. But since hearing the conversation of the gentlemen at the ball, she realized horses were a passion among them.

  The traffic was congested before the Hyde Park Corner tollhouse gate, but they turned in beforehand near the formal gardens at the rear of Apsley House. Here the park traffic forced Mr. St. Leger to slow to a crawl.

  Riding on Rotten Row proved an eye-opening experience, vastly different from her morning walks in the park with Megan.

  Now the sandy path was crammed with carriages inching along. Mr. St. Leger nodded and tipped his hat as a landau passed them. Two ladies seated within smiled before eyeing her. One drew close to the other to say something.

  Jessamine was soon distracted by the other vehicles jamming the driving lane. There were several gentlemen and uniformed soldiers riding horseback and a few more daring ladies doing the same. The traffic was further slowed by all those who were walking on the footpath alongside the Row, the two dirt paths separated by only a low row of wooden posts. The carriages stopped frequently for their occupants to chat a few moments with their acquaintances on foot.

  Jessamine recognized almost no one.

  Mr. St. Leger, however, seemed to know everyone, especially the gentlemen on horseback. He always introduced her first. There was a speculative look in the eyes of the gentlemen for a few seconds before they would get busy talking horses or races.

  She smiled when she finally saw a familiar face from the ball. Cubby drew up in a yellow curricle. “Hallo there, Miss Barry. If I’d known you like to drive, I’d have invited you myself.”

  “Hello, Cubby,” Mr. St. Leger drawled as Jessamine smiled her greeting. “Finally taking your grays out for air?”

  Cubby looked proudly at his horses. “I exercise them regularly.”

  “You mean your groom does.”

  They bandied about insults for a few more moments before Mr. St. Leger greeted another rider.

  Cubby drew his curricle closer to her side. “How have you fared since Lady Fortescue’s ball?”

  Jessamine blushed, wondering if he were referring to her indisposition. “Very well, thank you.”

  “We missed seeing you at the rout last night at the Buxtons.”

  She had known of no rout but merely smiled. “I’m sure it was a sad crush I’m glad to have missed.”

  “Not so tired from the dancing that you won’t be ready to kick up your heels at the Waverley ball?”

  She laughed in relief, having received an invitation to that ball. “No, indeed. I look forward to it.” On impulse she added, “I wouldn’t want my new gown to go to waste.”

  Cubby’s eyes lit up. “A new gown, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I await in anticipation.”

  He touched his gloved hand to the brim of his top hat. “Until then, Miss Barry.”

  They continued moving along the drive. The day was clear and warm, and Jessamine’s spirits lifted at being out-of-doors in an area that seemed far from the city. She had received a brief note from Megan just as she’d promised, but it had contained few details. Jessamine assumed she must be very busy in her new surroundings.

  “You have made a favorable impression on Cubby. He is not easily taken with young ladies in their first season.”

  She arched an eyebrow at Mr. St. Leger. “How unfair of him. Here we try our best to primp and do everything in our power to fascinate and please the company, only to have those like Mr. Fane disdain our efforts.”

  Mr. St. Leger smiled down at her, a glint of humor in his blue eyes. “We are awfully hard to please, are we not? But you must see it from our point of view. The least bit of interest we pay a young lady and her mama is already planning the announcement of her betrothal in the Gazette.”

  “I am certain you exaggerate.”

  “I assure you I do not.”

  “If that is so, it is a wonder you dared invite me to ride with you in the park.”

  He surveyed her under the brim of his hat. “Ah, but your mama and papa are not in town, are they?”

  “No, they are not.” For a moment, she wondered whether he was teasing her or in earnest.

  But he chuckled, and the puzzlement disappeared. “I have only Lady Beasinger to fear, and she is a delightful if scatterbrained goose.”

  “You mustn’t say such things about my hostess. She is a dear woman.”

  Instead of replying, he turned with a smile to chat with an acquaintance who had drawn abreast of the phaeton.

  “Jessamine!”

  Jessamine started, recognizing Megan’s excited voice. Turning in her seat, she wished herself anyplace else. Megan waved and smiled from a barouche with its top down. Beside her sat a dark-haired, very elegant beauty.

  Jessamine’s mouth went dry as she took in the sight of Rees’s bride.

  10

  Jessamine forced a smile to her lips as Megan’s carriage pulled up to Mr. St. Leger’s. To her dismay, Mrs. Phillips sat on the side closest to Jessamine.

  “How wonderful and convenient to see you here this afternoon,” Megan said, “since you are precisely the person I’ve most wanted to see. I wished so to stop in at Lady Bess’s, but this is even better.”

  Megan’s exuberance ebbed a notch as she turned to her companion. “Céline, may I present my best friend in all the world, Jessamine Barry? She is like a sister to me.” She smiled at Jessamine. “Jessamine, Rees’s wife, Céline Phillips.”

  As she murmured her greetings, Jessamine took in every detail of her rival’s appearance.

  Rees’s wife was even more beautiful up close. This was no old hag. However old she was, whether five-and-twenty or five-and-thirty, Jessamine could find no flaw. Her complexion, slightly darker than her own pink and cream, was nevertheless smooth as silk. Her features had classic perfection yet were strong enough, from the full lips to the dark, slashing eyebrows above amber-colored eyes, to give her an exotic look.

  “Megan has been telling me so many wonderful things about you. You must come by and visit us.”

  Even though Jessamine knew she was French by birth, Mrs. Phillips’s speech revealed no accent. It was soft and cultivated. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said, clutching her reticule in her hands.

  Mrs. Phillips laughed, a clear, tinkling sound like refreshing water. “Please, call me Céline if we are practically sisters.”

  Jessamine must have shown her puzzlement, for Céline said, “If you and Megan are as close as sisters and now she and I are sisters through Rees, then the two of us share a common sisterly bond.”

  Jessamine attempted to smile, but the sound of Rees’s name on her lips opened the wound afresh. “Yes, I see. Of course.”

  Céline turned to Mr. St. Leger. “Hello, St. Leger, still about town, I see, escorting the prettiest ladies.”

  Mr. St. Leger smiled. “Where have you been all this time? I heard rumors that you’d absconded to France right before Boney’s fall.”

  The Frenchwoman didn’t betray by a flicker that the question ruffled her. “Yes, I hurried across the channel to be in France. I knew there would be a vacuum of power in the interim. Although Britain was backing Louis, there were many who were not pleased to have him on the throne. They feared a return of the ancien régime and the worst of the aristocracy’s excesses.”

  “Do not dare say you are a Jacobin?”r />
  She lifted her chin a notch. “I am a Republican.” Before he could express any shock, she smiled. “But now I am a British subject, as I was before, married to an English diplomat and working very much at his side for peace for the continent.”

  As Jessamine and Megan listened to the conversation between her and Mr. St. Leger, Jessamine saw that her rival was not merely a woman of beauty but had charm, intelligence, and a firm grasp of the politics of Europe—all things that would attract Rees more than beauty. No wonder he had fallen for her.

  But did she have heart?

  Jessamine’s glance fell to Céline’s waistline. Despite the loose gown with its high empire waist, a slight bulge was visible. A bitter acid rose in Jessamine’s throat.

  As if sensing her regard, Céline’s hand went to her stomach in a move Jessamine had seen expectant mothers do. Her gaze met Jessamine’s as Mr. St. Leger continued speaking of the situation in France and Belgium, unconscious of the silent communication between the two women who loved Rees Phillips.

  Mr. St. Leger brought Jessamine back home and left his tiger with the phaeton as he walked her to the door.

  “I hope you had as pleasurable an excursion as I. Shall you be at the Waverley ball?”

  “Yes, I believe so.” She mentally pictured her gown and wondered how it would measure up against whatever Céline Phillips wore, doubtless a Parisian creation.

  Her doubts were momentarily dispelled when Mr. St. Leger smiled down at her. “I shall look forward to it then.”

  She tossed her chin. “I thought you didn’t dance.”

  He raised dark eyebrows. “There are always exceptions to one’s rules.” With those enigmatic words, he lifted the brim of his beaver with his fingertip before returning to his vehicle.

  Megan promised to call on Jessamine before the ball, though Jessamine had little hopes of this. Megan would want to spend as much time with her brother before he had to leave for Brussels.

  To Jessamine’s surprise, Megan did come by early the next afternoon. Lady Bess prevented any confidences between the two, since she was eager to hear all about Céline’s household—how many rooms, the number of servants, and who called upon them.

  Megan did her best to fill her in although she had been there a very short time. Jessamine received the impression of a very comfortable town house, luxuriously furnished with a full staff to meet every need. “But they do try to live simply, mainly because Rees doesn’t want Céline to overdo in her condition.”

  Lady Bess nodded. “She will probably retire soon from society until her confinement.”

  After Lady Bess’s curiosity had been satisfied, Megan and Jessamine were able to excuse themselves for a walk. As they made their way down Harley Street to Cavendish Square, Megan sighed. “Just like old times.”

  Jessamine smiled but made no reply, because she felt all the opposite. They would never be able to recapture “old times.”

  They crossed the wide, cobbled street to the center of Cavendish Square and walked along the perimeters of the black wrought-iron fence enclosing the circular green within.

  “I have the most wonderful news!”

  Jessamine’s heart stopped for a moment, wondering what could possibly have happened. The next second her fears were relieved when her friend said, “Céline has offered to hire a dance master to teach us the waltz before the Waverley ball!”

  Jessamine looked away from her toward the green. “That is very kind of her.” To have Rees’s wife pay for her lessons?

  Megan touched her arm. “I didn’t even bring it up. She is the one who asked me what I thought of the waltz. After she discovered it hasn’t even come to Alston, she suggested hiring a dance master. I told her what we’d discussed and she urged me to include you. We have very little time to learn, but she said with only a lesson or two we should be all right. Our first lesson is tomorrow morning. Please say you’ll be there.”

  Jessamine turned to meet the look of entreaty in her friend’s eye. She really had no choice. “Very well,” she said slowly.

  “Céline is really very sweet. She may look sophisticated, but she is the kindest person. She is at great pains to make me feel welcome and wants me to consider the house my home. Even though it is hers, you can see immediately that she doesn’t lord it over Rees that she had a much greater fortune than he when they married. She respects him so much and defers to him in everything.” Megan smiled. “He is certainly made to feel ‘lord and master’ of his castle.”

  “I never thought of Rees as an overbearing sort,” Jessamine pointed out quickly, curious despite herself about his married life.

  “I was being facetious, because really, the two of them defer to each other, so an outsider wouldn’t be able to tell who owned what before their marriage. They have achieved a true union of minds and hearts.”

  “I’m glad.” Jessamine was able to make her good wishes sound natural now that she’d had time to recover from meeting Céline. Besides, she wanted to show Megan she was completely over Rees, for it was the only way Megan would open up and tell her all she wished to know about the new couple. “It must be nice to be with your brother again.”

  “Yes.” Megan’s voice took on a sad tone. “But it is all too short a time, alas, for he leaves next week for Brussels.”

  Jessamine’s heart staggered. “So soon?”

  “Céline is so worried, though she doesn’t let it show around me, of course, but I’ve overheard them talking a time or two. If it weren’t for the baby, she wouldn’t have allowed him to bring her back to London.”

  Jessamine ventured to ask, “Did you ever find out if any of those rumors were true—about the reasons she left London so suddenly?”

  Megan shook her head. “Rees told me only that Céline is loyal to him and his work for Britain, that whatever she did before the war was not against the British crown but between the different French factions vying for power. He says that she has proven an immense help to him on the diplomatic front in Vienna and now in Brussels. He claims that if he has advanced at all in the Foreign Office, it is in large part due to her skills as hostess to all the top diplomatic emissaries in Vienna, otherwise he’d be nothing but an aide among several with finer pedigrees than a merchant’s son.”

  “I’m sure he is being overly modest about his own skills.”

  Megan smiled. “I’m sure he is, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that they are well suited to each other.” Her friend eyed her. “Do you mind very much that I speak so candidly?”

  Jessamine squared her shoulders. “No. I am over my sadness . . . now that I have met Céline. She seems a . . . very fine person.” The words cost some effort but were worth the sacrifice when her friend’s face cleared.

  “I’m so glad. There is so much I’d like to tell you about my new life but was so afraid of causing you pain.”

  Jessamine mustered a smile though each word stabbed her. “I do hope you can tell me all you wish. I’m happy for Rees, truly I am.”

  When they returned to Lady Bess’s, Céline’s carriage stood at the curb waiting to take Megan back to her new home. “My, how we have arisen in the world,” Jessamine teased her.

  Megan grinned back. “I am enjoying it while it lasts.” She gave her a quick hug. “I shall see you at our first dance lesson.”

  Jessamine nodded. “I hope it’s not very difficult.”

  “Céline assures me it is not, though of course having a good partner makes all the difference, she said. I wonder if Mr. Marfleet dances the waltz, since he is a clergyman.”

  “I wonder if Mr. St. Leger waltzes,” Jessamine countered.

  Megan raised a brow. “Do you fancy him?”

  “Haven’t you noticed how handsome he is?”

  “Yes, of course, who would not? But doesn’t he seem a trifle aloof, as if he is above us all?”

  Jessamine shrugged. “That is part of his allure.”

  With a puzzled look, Megan let the topic drop and stepped into the
awaiting carriage.

  The evening of the Waverley ball finally arrived.

  Jessamine and Megan had only had time for a few dance lessons, but the dance master assured them they had mastered the basics of the waltz and with practice should acquit themselves well.

  Jessamine had spent much of the afternoon at her toilette. As she stood back from the mirror, she knew she looked her best. She and Betsy had experimented with several hairstyles until satisfied. Her curls were swept up in a deceptively careless array atop her head, leaving one long strand to fall along her nape to the front, drawing attention to the gown’s neckline.

  The color of the gown enhanced the tone of her skin, giving it a warm glow. She put the pearl necklace on, with only a brief thought to Mr. Marfleet and his reaction to it if they should meet tonight.

  Lastly, she donned the fine kidskin gloves which cost her most of her remaining income from the necklace and took up her lace shawl and reticule and went down to meet Lady Bess.

  The ballroom was crowded when they arrived. She and Lady Bess each took a glass of ratafia and began to mill about the room.

  “How warm it is in here already.” Lady Bess fanned herself, her color high. “Ah, there is Adele MacGiver. I must say hello. Come along, dear.”

  Jessamine was not obliged to stand too long listening to the two older women’s gossip.

  Mr. Allan came up to her and greeted her with a smile. “I say, you look quite fetching tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she answered demurely, looking down at her glass, still unused to the admiration she saw in men’s eyes.

  “Would you care to dance?”

  “Very much.” Setting aside the drink, she followed him onto the floor. It was a lively hornpipe, and she was laughing and breathless by the time the dance was over.

  Cubby asked her next. As she stood in the line waiting for their part in the dance, she spotted Megan. Her breath caught. Rees and Céline stood with her. What a handsome couple they made, he tall and distinguished in his evening clothes, his demeanor smiling and more lighthearted than Jessamine had ever known, and Céline beautiful in a gauzy silver gown and jeweled tiara. The bulge under her high-waisted gown was more apparent now, although not unseemly large.