Lord Ripley glowered at her. “I don’t know Blyth well, although I’ll certainly do my best to remedy that. I know Judith has hopes in that direction.”
“He seems very cold,” Violetta ventured. “He’s handsome enough, but there’s no humanity there.”
“There is. It’s hidden deep. He wouldn’t take money from his stepfather, all that he’s achieved he’s done himself. It must have taken a great deal of discipline and control. He refused to be sent abroad on the Grand Tour when his stepfather offered. He succeeded in restoring his family’s fortunes, but at great personal cost. Perhaps it is he who needs the help, though I wouldn’t suggest it.” The marquess smiled at Violetta, a particularly warm, avuncular smile. “Violetta, my sweet, I knew you when you stood no higher than my knee. I’ve watched you turn into a lovely, poised young woman. I know I won’t be able to dissuade you, but I have to ask you to think again. You have your own future to think of, one that is much brighter than we considered it three years ago.” Two years ago, Violetta’s father died in Italy. The disguises were no longer necessary, but it had been too late for La Perla, whose face, if not her real name, was known by the highest in English society. Violetta, however, had another chance at respectability.
“No, sir, I do not think this will affect my future. I want to help Aunt Virginia.”
Ripley sighed. “You don’t have to help her this way.”
Violetta set her mouth into a stubborn line. “I have the choice, and this is what I want. Aunt Virginia has stayed with Mama, through all our times, good and bad. I would like to repay her somehow, and I know she is terribly worried about her daughter. Now I know why. I think Perdita Garland has been surrounded by people who have allowed her to have her own way for too long. She needs someone not afraid of her, someone to challenge her.”
Her mother’s expression cleared. “Very likely, my dear. Perhaps you have the right of it. Perhaps.” She shook a warning finger at her daughter, when Violetta smiled in relief. “Though I shall keep you to your promise. If anyone sees even the slightest resemblance between you and La Perla Perfetta you will leave that house and come home.”
Ripley handed his cup to La Perla to be refilled. “I wondered when you would meet my daughter. I hadn’t planned for it to be like this. I am afraid they will recognize you, once you enter society as yourself. Your dreams will be at an end.”
“People see what they want to see.” She paused, not knowing what to say about Lady Judith, whose dislike of her had been palpable. “Your daughter seems charming, sir.”
Lord Ripley grimaced. “Too high in the instep, just like her mother. She’ll treat you like nothing.” He paused, frowning.
Violetta knew there was something else, something he wasn’t telling her. “What is it, Uncle Lucius?” Was he about to tell her, once and for all that Lady Judith was her sister and therefore she was his? She held her breath
“She can be more perceptive than you think. Be careful.”
Violetta let her breath out in one long sigh. “They only saw a dowdy woman in thick spectacles. It was Mama who taught me people notice one distinctive thing about a person so I decided on thick spectacles.”
“You could hardly have chosen a more unbecoming pair,” her mother commented. “It will doubtless be what people remember about Miss Lambert. It is so sad, that no one will see my beautiful daughter as she should be!” Her voice held a yearning sadness, which moved Violetta as little else could.
“Mama, they will. When I enter society properly they will.”
The marquess gave her an apologetic grin. “I would support you, but ten to one people will think it wrong.”
Violetta shook her head at the marquess. “You have to keep your distance, or you will make them suspicious.”
He shrugged. “It would be pleasant to look after someone. My wife and daughter have made it clear they don’t wish my interference. I tried, but a man can only be turned away so many times before he refuses to come back. When the children were small I worked hard to be the father they needed, but my wife opposed me at every turn. Long before I renewed my friendship with your mother, she made my life untenable. Now, at least I have some happiness, thanks to Donata.” He reached out once more and touched her hand. She smiled back. They could be an old married couple, Violetta thought fondly, except for a few details. Like his marriage and her career.
It passed Violetta’s understanding, the level of the devotion between London’s most notorious courtesan and one of its wealthiest peers. It was an open secret, that these days La Perla was exclusively for Lord Ripley. Hardly anyone asked her any more.
La Perla was at the top end of the market, but a whore was a whore and Violetta had long decided that life was not for her. Now, thanks to her mother’s careful investments and her father’s death, there was enough money for her to do as she wanted, and a family to support her. She hadn’t done anything about it, except for a visit to her family in Italy, but she couldn’t put her decision off for much longer. She could enter society as a respectable woman. No one would turn away from her in the street, no one would avoid her gaze at the opera, and no one would ever size her up as goods to be bought and sold. No one. Not even a cold, handsome man who regarded her without desire.
Violetta wrenched her thoughts away from Lord Blyth. The likelihood was that she would see him rarely in the weeks to come. “The earl’s sister needs some encouragement to re-enter society. After her riding accident last year she has refused to see anyone except Lady Judith.”
“I used to see a lot of Lady Perdita, before her accident,” Lord Ripley put in. “Now Judith goes to her, rather than the other way about.”
“She’s very proud.” Violetta didn’t want to upset the marquess by talking out of turn. She hardly knew Lady Perdita at all.
“That might be an effort to distance herself from others. Does she seem well?”
“Aunt Virginia told me her doctor says she is fully healed, but she isn’t walking.” Briefly, Violetta let her mind dwell on the pain Lady Perdita must have endured. It was all very well for her brother and doctor to accuse her of malingering, but there was more than physical healing to be overcome.
“Judith says she is low,” Ripley said.
“I will help her for now, and if it becomes too difficult, or I am in any danger of being recognized, I will return to you.”
La Perla sighed heavily, the sigh of every long-suffering mother. “I will ask Virginia to visit, so she may accustom herself to your appearance there.”
Violetta looked up and grinned girlishly. “I haven’t told Aunt Virginia that I’ve actually gone ahead with it.”
“You two are a fine pair!” The marquess stood. Violetta watched him cross the room to where the brandy decanter waited on a side table. He poured himself a glassful and drank it in one gulp before glaring balefully at Violetta and returning to the sofa, flicking his heavy coat skirts up carelessly before he sat down again. “This is foolish. You should stop this immediately, Violetta!”
Violetta smiled. “There may be a devil in us, Lord Ripley, but we are more alive than most of the women you know.”
She wrenched a reluctant answer from him. “That must be why I’ve stayed with your mother for so long. I never know what she’ll do next. Without me, she could find herself in a mess.”
La Perla leaned across to lay her hand over his, tightly fisted on his knee. “You have cared for me well, mon amour.” It was hard to express emotion as frankly as she did, Violetta knew. It was one of her mother’s breathtaking braveries in a life full of courage.
“I will take care,” Violetta promised. “If you tell Aunt Virginia, that will be one less worry, Mama, but—” she paused, the mischievous grin back once more, “—I would dearly love to see how long it takes her to recognize me!"
The marquess groaned when La Perla clapped her hands together. “Then I shall not tell her! Let it serve her right for her shabby treatment of me at the opera the other night. She would not r
isk meeting with me in one of the trysting rooms. I shall make her pay!” The crow of laughter robbed her words of any maliciousness.
“This,” the marquess declared with great decision, “is pure madness.”
Chapter Three
“Miss Lambert.”
Violetta lifted her head when she heard his voice. In the last three days, Lord Blyth had not been at home often, especially in the middle of the day. She found her marker and folded her book closed around it as he came into the room. “I’m sorry, I have startled you.”
“Not at all, my lord.” She got to her feet, but he waved her back down again.
“I wondered if we could have the first of our little talks.” When she nodded, face as composed as she could make it, he sat down in the deep upholstered chair opposite her that matched her own. “How is my sister?”
Violetta bit her lip. “She is low in spirit, but I have found no way to get close to her yet. I have not suggested an outing. I’m sure she would reject it out of hand.” She had not begun on her campaign, deeming it more advisable to study the lay of the land first.
He nodded. “Very wise. You don’t want to build up her resistance to the suggestion. You know I have several carriages and they are all available for her use whenever she wishes it. Do you drive?”
Violetta bowed her head, avoiding the eyes that seemed to see right through her disguise. “I have learned, my lord, though my skill is not great. I have never driven in the town, only in the country, and never a fashionable vehicle.”
“A country gig?”
“Something like that.” Remembering the golden sunlight over her Uncle Lodovico’s vineyards in Italy and the delightful vehicle he’d put at her disposal, she lifted her head and dared to meet his cool gaze.
He regarded her with a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. “I may teach you. Would you like that?”
Her heart leapt, but she controlled the foolish feeling. “If it would help Lady Perdita, yes, my lord, I would.”
“Would you do something for me?”
She was instantly on her guard. She had heard that kind of remark in her mother’s house. Innocuous it was not. “If it is within my power, my lord.”
“In private, will you call me sir, or even Blyth? All this ‘my lord’ wearies me. I have never stood on ceremony.”
Violetta could not be sure but she thought she detected a gleam about him, something that was for her alone. She was imagining things. “I would be honoured, sir.”
“I’ll take you up one afternoon when Perdita has her rest. She never learned to drive properly, although she rides—rode—as though she was born on a horse. I would like to see if you have the skill to drive around town.” A small smile touched one corner of his mouth. “It is a notion I had. If she sees you driving, she may wish to do so herself. Perdita has too little fresh air. She doesn’t need to walk to be able to drive.”
Violetta returned his smile, at once relaxed, now they were talking of his sister. “It is a good notion, sir. If she drives, she might meet an acquaintance.”
His face was now entirely solemn. “It is, I think, what she fears, but in a fashionable phaeton, such as the one I sometimes drive, she would show to advantage. She has no need to get down, especially when in charge of a pair. I have two pairs presently in the stables. A spirited pair that I mostly use and a quieter pair for the days when I merely wish to drive somewhere. Perhaps, in time, we may persuade her to ride. Dr. Sewell has not mentioned it, but I think exercise will do Perdita good.”
“I have thought so myself, my lord.” Violetta folded her hands in her lap. “Dr. Sewell has not visited yet, but I understand he is to pay us a visit soon.”
“Good. You should meet him.” He stood as if to leave the room, but turned back on a thought. “We have extra guests for dinner tonight, one Perdita will be glad to see. My mother is coming, with her husband and my younger brother, Corin, Viscount Elston. He’s heir to my stepfather, Lord Taversall.”
“Then you would rather I ate from a tray in my room.” Violetta prayed he would not want her presence.
He frowned. “Not at all. I wish you to be there.”
Violetta swallowed. At last, she would get to test her disguise! She had been here three days and only seen Lady Perdita and Lady Judith every day. Why she enjoyed such mad challenges was a mystery to her, but she hoped her mother had not told Lady Taversall the secret. She knew Lady Taversall well enough to be sure the lady could keep her wits about her, but even if she did not, she would never admit the truth to her family.
Dressing for dinner later that afternoon Violetta knew an insane desire to make herself more attractive. The maid sent to help her dress was only allowed to assist her with lacing her outer garments. Violetta had recently learned the knack of lacing her own corset, so no one would guess her increased bulk was because of carefully positioned padding rather than her own gifts, and that her hair was not her own. She dusted powder over the dowdy wig, but allowed the soft golden brown colour to show through a little, in the tradition of a bluestocking who did not care about her appearance, which was the image she was trying to create.
There must be something of her mother in her as well as the deep violet eyes and the shining blue-black hair. A devilment, a desire to play a part and take others with her. Not as an actress would, but a real deception. It gave her a power over others, a delicious teasing contact that thrilled her while it appalled her sense of morals. Nevertheless, she was trying to do good here, so surely she could not be blamed for having a little fun.
The gown she wore was a sickly green colour with a plain green petticoat under it. The only decoration was some light embroidery on the robings at the front. It was hideous.
Violetta regarded her reflection in the mirror critically. This masquerade gave her a different satisfaction. A need to be someone else, to learn what others’ experiences were like. She wanted to be more than one person, hold more than one set of values and needs. She had spent her younger years in disguise, under a variety of names, in an effort to elude her father’s searches, rarely in the same house as her mother until she had called a halt, after finishing school in France. Whatever would come, would come and they would face it together.
Only waiting until the maid had ensured her gown’s lacing was secure, Violetta gave her a vague smile and drifted out of the room to Lady Perdita’s. She entered on a scene deeply unlike the one in her room and recognized an undercurrent of panic. “Charlotte, come in. Do you think I will do?”
“Indeed, ma’am, you’ll do very well.” Seated before her dressing table, Lady Perdita made an ethereal picture in palest blue gauze overlaying a gown of heavenly blue and a heavily embroidered petticoat. Her skirts floated around her, completely concealing the useless legs. “You would captivate anyone.”
Lady Perdita grimaced. “Unfortunately I won’t need to do that. However, I appreciate the comment. Come here.” Violetta obediently crossed the room to stand before her mistress. Her feet sank into the soft, rich carpet. “Why do you insist on playing down what good features you have?”
Violetta met her gaze frankly. “I have no good features.”
“Your skin is good. Your eyes are lovely.” This was the first time Lady Perdita had said anything complementary to Violetta. “That gown does you no favours. I have an appointment with the mantua-maker soon. You must order a gown or two.”
Violetta bit back the response “Not on my salary,” and remembered her dressing room at home, full of the gowns she had brought back from her recent prolonged stay in Italy with her father’s family. After her father’s death, she had gone to Italy, invited by the Palagios. She returned with a new resolve and trunks full of the latest styles from France and Italy. Buying Miss Lambert’s dowdy gowns had proved an amusing exercise, but not one she cared to repeat. However, she agreed with Lady Perdita, bowing her head submissively, inwardly determined not to add to Miss Lambert’s wardrobe.
“That will do.” Lady Perdita flicked her hand
in an irritated gesture and at once, her maid stepped back. “Fetch Perkins. I want to be sitting in the drawing room before they arrive.”
Perkins, the footman assigned for Lady Perdita’s personal requirements, and another footman, were waiting outside, and came in the room immediately. They carried in an item that, from the glare Lady Perdita gave to it, could have been an instrument of torture, but was in fact an ordinary chair with two sturdy handles fixed to the outside.
Perkins carried her ladyship to the chair and seated her in it, and then the maid bunched the voluminous skirts so the men could get to the handles. Violetta watched Lady Perdita’s mouth tighten and thin lines form around it, the only sign of her dislike or perhaps it was nervousness of the ordeal to come.
They formed a little procession, and followed the men outside and down the stairs. Lady Perdita didn’t make a sound and her body sat rigidly upright in the chair. It was not something Violetta would have cared to try for herself, even if they did tilt the chair back a little when they descended the staircase.
They were the first to arrive in the drawing room. Violetta waited until they had settled her in a chair and left before she said anything. “It seems terribly uncomfortable.” She watched Lady Perdita closely.
Lady Perdita busied herself with her fan, flicking it out and back. “I am always afraid they will tip me down the stairs.”
“Perhaps it would be better if you made an effort to walk.”
“Don’t be foolish, girl! I doubt I’ll ever walk again!”
“There is no reason why you should not.”
A Chance to Dream Page 3