“Goodness, Repington, is there something wrong with your hearing?” Sedgwick was leaning against the fence looking delighted at Hugh’s discomfiture.
“Nonsense,” Hugh very nearly shouted. “I was only distracted by the horse being startled.”
“And look at Lady Julianna, she does not look distracted or concerned, does she, Timothy?” Lady Amelia asked, clearly teasing Hugh even though the question was directed at her brother.
“It is all right, Mr Repington,” Julianna remarked. He was about to thank her when she went on. “Not every person can be as comfortable around horses, as I am. It is a gift.”
Sedgwick began to howl with laughter.
"Are ye lads ever going to bring the horses back in or are ye going to let them suffer at the fence all day?"
Sedgwick and Hugh turned away from the fence.
"My apologies, Kirk. It is all my sister's fault."
"It is not!" Lady Amelia exclaimed, sounding so like Hugh's only sister, Henrietta, that he could not help but laugh.
"Oh right, it was Lady Amelia who neglected her horse and then stood there doing nothing as it reared up and try to stomp us all to death," and Lady Julianna said to him lightly. Then turned to him. "Oh, Heavens, I am all mixed up. That was you, was it not, Mr Repington?”
"Yes, I believe it was Mr Repington," Lady Amelia agreed.
Once again, Sedgwick began to laugh and Hugh felt himself begin to scowl again.
"Oh, Mr Repington, do not be so sour," Lady Amelia told him. "We are only teasing you."
"What is the lass talkin' about, Master Timothy?"
Sedgwick grimaced at his sister before turning back to the man standing in the stable door. "Kirk, it was nothing. Juno was startled and when up on his back legs for a moment."
Lady Amelia sniffed at Sedgwick's explanation but said nothing. Kirk, however, was not to be deceived.
"Are ye tellin' me the truth, lad? Yer sister and the lass seem to think it was more than nothin'."
Sedgwick shot his sister a frown, but Hugh had heard enough. "It was indeed my fault. My apologies, Kirk. I left Juno unattended near the fence and when he was startled I was not close enough to settle him."
Kirk made a tsking sound which made the others chuckle and Hugh hoped that his face was not turning red as it often did when he was embarrassed.
"It is not yer fault, Mr Repington. Juno has been known to be nervous and Master Timothy knows that very well." The older man turned to Sedgwick. "Ye should have kept a closer eye on the horse."
"Aw, Kirk, do not be angry with me." Sedgwick began leading his horse into the stable. Hugh nodded at the two ladies before leading a much more placid Juno into the stable.
Sedgwick and Kirk were arguing amiably, something that they did often. Hugh stood in the stable trying not to think about Lady Julianna. While he wanted to be annoyed with her for being so outspoken upon just meeting, he could not help but appreciate her apparent interest and knowledge of horses, as well as her loyalty to Lady Amelia.
The house party was his first event of the Season but he had been quickly reminded that most of the young ladies were interested in little but fashion and the next ball or party. As much as he found Lady Julianna exasperating he was somewhat intrigued by her.
"Repington, I did not get a chance to ask you about it during our ride, but how was your evening with Lady Priscilla?" Sedgwick asked when they had left the stable.
Hugh thought about the young lady with whom he had spent most of his previous evening. "It went rather well. She is quite beautiful and as you might expect, extremely gracious and perfectly comfortable at social events."
"And yet you do not look happy. I thought that Lady Priscilla would be exactly what you were looking for, is she not?"
Hugh knew that Sedgwick was right, he did not feel happy. He was not sure what the problem was, although his relaxing morning ride had done nothing more than cause him to be more anxious. He shook his head. "No, Lady Priscilla is perfect. I believe the problem lies with me."
"With you? Whatever do you mean?"
"I have been locked up by myself for far too long. It seems I have forgotten the normal conventions of today's society."
"Oh?" Sedgwick replied.
"I have been around no one but academics. I was not prepared for the long discussion regarding the latest fashions in London."
"Oh, of course," Sedgwick said giving him a knowing look then stopped to look Hugh over. "Hmmm. Perhaps she was trying to tell you something."
"Perhaps," he answered not really listening until suddenly the other man's word sank in. "Wait. What do you mean by that?"
The other man grimaced slightly. "When we return to London I believe we should visit my tailor."
He looked down at his breeches, he had not followed the current trend of men wearing pantaloons. If he were to court Lady Priscilla and become a fixture in London society he should be dressed for it.
With a sigh, he said, "Yes, I suppose that I should."
Chapter Seven
“She is rather beautiful, is she not?”
Hugh turned to see Nigel Coombs standing at his elbow staring across the room at Lady Priscilla where she stood with several other ladies. He would have liked to ignore the man but he dared not. Coombs was not a very influential man in London but he was notorious for passing on tidbits of information whether it be true or not.
It was more than likely that if Hugh snubbed the man, news of it, in some highly exaggerated form, would have spread through London in a matter of days. He had heard stories from his eldest brother, Philip, about Coombs and his less than exemplary history.
After a moment, Hugh nodded at the man. “Good evening, Coombs.”
Coombs looked at him for a while before saying, “Good evening, yourself, Repington.”
“You seem puzzled. Is there something amiss?” Hugh looked around as though he were trying to ascertain the problem.
“I am simply wondering if your reticence in answering the question means that you do not agree with me.”
Hugh furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “And what question was that?”
“I made the comment that Lady Priscilla is quite beautiful and asked your opinion.”
“And you were waiting for an answer?” Hugh asked giving the other man a long look.
Coombs looked mildly uncomfortable but pushed on. “Well, yes.”
Hugh had hoped to avoid answering but there seemed nothing for it. “Hmm. I thought your question was rather rhetorical. I suppose one would have to be blind not to see that she is beautiful.” Hugh waited, assuming Coombs would have more to say on the subject.
“I noticed that you and the lady were introduced the other night.”
Hugh only nodded in response.
Coombs smiled conspiratorially. “I expect you will be pursuing a courtship.”
“Perhaps,” Hugh told him. “We shall see what happens when I return to London.”
“Perhaps?" Coombs looked skeptical. "Surely you do not expect me to believe that you will not be pursuing Lady Priscilla.”
Just then Lady Priscilla glanced across the room at Hugh and smiled shyly. Hugh turned to Coombs. “I care not what you believe. If you will excuse me.”
Coombs opened his mouth to speak but Hugh was already walking away. He crossed the room and stopped near the group of young ladies that included Lady Priscilla.
“Good evening, Lady Priscilla.”
“Good evening, Mr Repington.”
“Are you enjoying the party?”
“Yes, it is quite lovely.” Lady Priscilla looked toward the dance floor. “The music is especially enjoyable tonight.”
Hugh smiled at her. The music began to swell signaling the next dance. “Yes, it is indeed. Would you like to dance?”
“Oh,” Lady Priscilla sounded surprised. Not that Hugh believed it but he appreciated her attempt. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
Lady Priscilla primly took his arm as he led her to
the middle of the ballroom. She smiled up at him and he sought for something to say. “You look rather lovely tonight.”
She looked away shyly and murmured, “Why thank you, Mr Repington.”
He wondered if he should say more but she turned back at him to say, “I am so glad my mother insisted that we pay a visit to the modiste before we left London.”
Hugh had no idea how to reply so he simply said, “I can imagine.”
She looked confused for a moment but continued on. “I saw this dress and just loved it, but my mother did not think it was fashionable.”
Lady Priscilla paused and Hugh knew from conversations with Henrietta that it was best to wait. Lady Priscilla said nothing, he sighed and led them through the next turn hoping that the subject would soon change.
“Fortunately, Corrine, that is the modiste,” she looked at him to make sure he was paying attention. "She is French and is well acquainted with all of the latest fashions. She assured mother she could make the dress more fashionable and added the extra ruffles at the bottom and on the sleeves. It is simply perfect now.”
He continued to move them around the ballroom, suddenly noticing that Lady Priscilla had fallen silent. He looked down to see that she was pouting. She looked so much like Henrietta when she was younger that he almost laughed. Lady Priscilla surely would have been insulted if he laughed at her.
“Have I said something wrong?”
“No, it is that you have said nothing at all," she said with a shake of her head.
Without thinking, Hugh said, "About what?”
Lady Priscilla let out an exasperated huff. “Mr Repington, have you not been listening?”
The dance had ended and they moved to the edge of the ballroom. “Oh.” Hugh stopped and turned to face her. “My apologies. You are quite right. Your dress is perfect indeed. And although I am far from an expert, I believe your dress is the top of fashion.”
“Why thank you for noticing, Mr Repington,” Lady Priscilla simpered, looking up at him adoringly.
“Would you like a refreshment? I believe Lady Eastbridge has set up the dining room with punch and cakes.”
“Yes, that would be lovely,” Lady Priscilla agreed.
Hugh led her from the ballroom and into the dining room where he handed her glass of punch. They moved aside as another group of people entered the dining room. Lady Julianna smiled as she waited for another gentleman to hand her a glass of punch.
“Good evening, Lady Julianna,” he said and nodded to the gentleman.
“Good evening, Mr Repington,” she said. “Lady Priscilla.”
“Good evening,” Lady Priscilla said with a small amount of disdain. Her eyes narrowing as she looked past her at the gentleman beside her.
The gentleman turned and smiled at them, Hugh felt himself bristle and sought to appear normal. The man’s smile seemed too practiced and Hugh recognized the man as Lord Norsely. It was not surprising as he looked much different than the last time Hugh had seen him. He should have expected that though and the other man had been quite ill only a few months ago.
Lady Julianna and Lord Norsely had barely left the room by Lady Priscilla turned to him.
“Do you know who that was?”
“Yes, I met Lady Julianna the other—” he began but Lady Priscilla interrupted him.
“No, it is Lord Norsely.” Lady Priscilla looked rather gleeful before her face grew serious. “I do not know if you have heard the latest news. Lord Norsely was recently involved in quite a messy scandal.”
He smiled at her, sure that she was trying to be humorous. She apparently did not notice his reaction as she went on almost enthusiastically. She was clearly enjoying a moment of gossip and did not care to detect his reluctance to participate in such ill words.
“As you know, Lord Norsely is the heir to the Earl of Marsfeld. He currently holds the title of Viscount of Norsely.” She looked at him with a knowing smirk. “A few months ago, he fell ill, the physician was called. The family was told that the viscount was afflicted with a fever and that he would improve with care and medicine. Only he did not improve and seemed to worsen under the physician’s supervision."
Lady Priscilla paused for a moment and Hugh thought he would comment but she continued on before he could speak.
"Lord Norsely has a younger brother, Andrew Townsend. You probably know him as he is usually at every social event in London. It turns out that Mr Townsend was pouring out his brother's medicine and replacing it with a mixture of water and whiskey. Lord Norsely nearly died."
Finding an opportunity to try to stop the awkward conversation, Hugh simply nodded, "Terrible. Shall we return to the ballroom?"
"Yes, thank you. I thought the sordid event was terrible, as well," she replied with a bright smile and took his arm. "Mr Townsend was in the midst of courting that strange girl, what was her name?"
Lady Priscilla's voice trailed off and Hugh scowled at her.
She did not bother to notice his reaction and suddenly smiled again. "Oh, yes. Her name was Miss Beatrice Clarke. Mr Townsend was nearly caught alone with her but there was some confusion. As it was then discovered that Mr Townsend was thought to have compromised Lady Judith Powell."
Hugh paused at the door to the ballroom, sure that Lady Priscilla would halt her story now that they were joining other people.
"Yes, it turns out that Lady Judith and Mr Townsend were forced to marry and have been fairly banished to a family home in Cumbria." Lady Priscilla sniffed. "And Miss Beatrice's reputation would have suffered if not for some officer just home from the war. I heard that he gallantly stepped in to ask for her hand, though why a man would do such a thing is beyond me. It was a rather fortuitous turn of events for Miss Beatrice if I am being completely honest. She likely did not deserve such graciousness. It all caused quite a scene at Lord and Lady Dalverton's ball."
"Yes, I did hear about the situation." Hugh was in such shock at her telling of the story that he could not manage to say more.
It amazed him that she did not know that he would have already heard the story. His elder brother, Charles, was the gallant officer that Lady Priscilla had mentioned. Charles and Miss Beatrice had formed a friendship during the beginning of the Season and he had already planned on proposing to her before the trouble with Mr Townsend had begun at the Dalverton's party. It was the misbehaviour of Mr Townsend and then actions by Lady Taltham, Miss Beatrice's mother, that had caused Charles to act publicly.
While Hugh understood that Lady Priscilla had most likely not known that Charles was his brother, he could not mistake the glee in which she shared the horrible details with yet another person. Hugh rather liked Miss Beatrice, and Lady Priscilla's characterization of her and the events was not to his liking at all.
Hugh walked Lady Priscilla over to the other young ladies that she had been talking with earlier. He bowed slightly. "Thank you, Lady Priscilla."
"Thank you, Mr Repington," she replied demurely.
"Good evening," he said to her and nodded to the other ladies, ignoring the pout that was forming on her pretty face. He smiled again and then walked away wondering whether Lady Priscilla was as perfect as he had originally thought.
Chapter Eight
“Lady Julianna, are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, very much."
Lady Amelia stepped closer. "I felt I must ask, as you appear to be somewhat disconcerted."
"I cannot believe this is the last night of the house party,” Julianna lamented.
“Neither can I,” Lady Amelia shook her head. “It is going to seem very quiet after everyone is gone.”
“I would imagine so.” Julianna looked around the ballroom try to envision it empty, all the people having gone home. She could picture it but it did not seem right.
“It will be strange to return to London.”
“I shall be returning in another week as well.” Lady Amelia told her. “I hope to see you at Almack's and the other parties.”
&nbs
p; Julianna smiled. “I hope so too. Perhaps we could go riding at Hyde Park as well.”
“Yes, that is a wonderful idea,” Lady Amelia agreed happily, clapping her hands together.
“I saw that you were dancing with Lord Norsely earlier.” Lady Amelia looked across the dance floor where Lord Norsely stood talking to two other gentlemen. “You do make a striking pair.”
“Thank you,” Julianna said with a smile, though she was only trying to be polite.
Lord Norsely had proven to be every bit of the perfect gentleman he had been rumoured to be. He was charming, handsome, fashionable, popular, and responsible. He came from a highly revered family, as his father, the Earl of Marlsfeld, was well respected in London society and in Parliament. As she had been advised on many occasions, a match between them would be quite favourable.
Julianna knew all of this and yet she still found herself uncertain about Lord Norsely. There had, as of yet, been no mention of a courtship and for that Julianna was immensely grateful. She was very unsure of her feelings toward him which made her feel like a silly schoolgirl as there was no real reason for her hesitance. Lord Norsely had been very nice and solicitous toward her at every meeting since their introduction at the beginning of the house party. But the niggling worry about him remained.
Julianna sighed. “Yes, we have danced twice tonight.”
“And yet you look distressed,” Lady Amelia commented.
With a practiced smile, Julianna turned to her friend. “No, I have much enjoyed it…” She trailed off when Lady Amelia gave her a knowing look. “Now, now. I am not distressed.”
“Has Lord Norsely done anything untoward?” Lady Amelia’s voice became sharp as she glanced across the room at him again.
Julianna was sure that Lady Amelia was recalling the distressing behaviour of Mr Townsend, Lord Norsely’s brother. “Goodness, no. He has been very gracious and kind.”
“Then what is wrong?” She tilted her head and knitted her brow. “Tell me.”
“I really do not know. He is very nice but our time together is fraught with awkward silences. And to be perfectly honest I do not find myself looking forward to seeing him again when we part.”
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