by Carola Dunn
“I shall come to see your new gowns, Miss Warren,” Kitty promised.
“Oh, ‘Miss Warren’! You really must call me Millie. Let me see, yes, here is hot water for you already, and this is my maid, Nan,” she continued as a smiling, round-faced girl in a grey stuff dress and white apron bobbed a curtsy. “Imagine, an abigail of my own! Nan will unpack for you and you must tell her what else you wish her to do. Nan, this is Miss Lisle, and Miss Catherine. I shall wait for you in my chamber, Kitty. I have all the latest fashion magazines, too. Do not be too long!”
As Millicent whisked out, seemingly afraid she would be tempted to stay if she did not remove herself quickly, Pippa surveyed the room. It was decorated in white and pale rose pink, with curtains and counterpanes patterned with wild roses. Larger than her and Kitty’s chambers at home combined, it was more than spacious enough for the two beds, two wash-stands, a dressing table, and a huge clothes press. Banked coals glowed in the tiled fireplace.
“What luxury,” Kitty marvelled, untying her bonnet ribbons. “Which bed would you like, Pippa? I am glad we are together. I like Millie, but...” She paused as Pippa glanced warningly at the maid. “But you and I know each other’s ways.”
When Nan had carried off their pelisses to be brushed, Pippa said, “We shall have to grow accustomed to having servants about and taking care what we say.”
“Yes, thank you for stopping me.” Kitty giggled. “In any case I am quite certain you can guess exactly what I was going to say.”
“I daresay Nan guessed, too,” Pippa said dryly.
“The trouble is, some of what Millie says is worth hearing, so one must listen all the time so as not to miss anything.”
“She seems good-natured and well-intentioned, so do try to bear with her prattle.”
“I mean to, but how fortunate that she is not offended by interruptions, or I might lose my voice through disuse!”
They washed faces and hands in the rose-sprigged china basins. Kitty tidied her hair at the dressing-table mirror and went off happily to examine Millicent’s gowns. Pippa sat down at the dressing-table. Her hair needed little attention, the advantage of straight tresses and a severe style. She wondered what to do next.
Someone tapped on the chamber door. Servants bringing up their boxes, she thought. Nan would want to unpack, so she had best get out of the way.
“Come in.”
Albinia appeared. “Pippa, are you comfortable? Is all as it should be? You will have to accustom yourself to asking the servants for whatever you need, all too easy, I promise you. It took me no time at all to grow spoiled.”
“No doubt,” Pippa said, laughing. It was impossible to feel awkward with Bina. “You are certainly doing your best to spoil us. This room is charming, and very comfortable.”
“Good. Millicent’s maid will help you two, and my dresser will take care of your mama. She is shockingly toplofty—Bister, I mean, not Mrs Lisle—and I was quite terrified of her when George’s mother made me hire her, but your mama had her eating out of her hand in no time.”
“Mama is equal to anything.”
“As I know very well. I meant to stay only to make her comfortable, but we started to reminisce, or I should not have left you so long. She is lying down now, in preparation for a strenuous day reconnoitring the shops tomorrow. Come down to my sitting room where we shall have peace for a private cose, a rarity in this house, I fear!”
“Your sister is very friendly,” Pippa said diplomatically, following her hostess from the room. “She has made Kitty feel quite at home already.”
“But one does need an occasional respite. Before we go down, let me just show you....” Bina opened the door next to Mrs Lisle’s chamber. “I have fitted the nursery up as a sitting room for you and Mrs Lisle and the girls. I thought you would like that better than a separate bed-chamber.”
“Oh yes, I truly do not mind sharing with Kitty.”
“If you look down, you can see our garden, though you will scarcely think so tiny a plot worthy of the name.”
“There is a garden in here.” Pippa glanced around the room, all flowered chintzes and green dimity, with vases of daffodils here and there. She noted the writing table between the windows. It would be perfect for her work. “Thank you, Bina. I cannot judge whether or not you have grown spoiled, but I see you have grown into a first-rate hostess.”
“My mama-in-law taught me the way of it. We entertain a good deal in the country. I only wish you had been one of our guests, long since,” Bina said seriously as they started down the stairs. “At first I was caught up in adjusting to my new life, and then when I was settled enough to invite you, you wrote about your father’s illness.”
“I could not have left Papa. Nor Mama afterwards.”
“I know. And then, when you were out of mourning, Wynn asked me to present Millie—our mama is not equal to anything, as you are aware. I had not thought to expose you to my dearly loved but loquacious sister....Here is my sitting room, next to our bedchamber, with George’s dressing room beyond, and the drawing room opposite, as you saw.”
She opened a door and ushered Pippa into a cosy room, all blue and cream, which someone more pretentious might have dubbed a boudoir. It contained not only comfortable chairs, a small sofa, and a walnut roll-top bureau, but a wardrobe and dressing table. A branch of candles was already lit, for the room faced north and the March evening was drawing in.
“As I was saying,” Bina continued when she had rung for tea and they were seated on either side of a flickering fire, “I had intended to postpone your invitation until the summer. Then Wynn told me about Prometheus and his price, and at the same time I found the threat of George’s Aunt Prendergast dangling overhead like the sword of Damascus.”
“Damocles,” Pippa murmured. “Mr Debenham’s Aunt Prendergast was to be your dragon, I take it.”
Bina nodded ruefully. “Someone persuaded Mama I am not old enough to chaperon Millie on my own. Aunt P is indeed a dragon.” She giggled. “Privately George calls her Aunt Prenderghastly, deplorable—”
“But clever.”
“And appropriate. So you can guess how delighted I was to be able to wave Mrs Lisle in her face, so to speak. Also, there will be four of us to share Millie’s chatter, though I fear Miss Kitty will likely bear the brunt,” she said guiltily.
“Kitty is like Mama,” Pippa told her, “equal to anything.”
“So, you see, I am shockingly selfish and prodigious grateful to Prometheus. Who is this mysterious gentleman who is so solicitous of your family, Pippa? Do tell!”
Pippa was tempted. She trusted Albinia not to broadcast her secret to the world. However, she was certain her friend would be vastly diverted by Lord Selworth’s ignorance of who was really helping him, and she was incapable of hiding her amusement. Laughing eyes and a half-concealed smile at the wrong moment could easily lead her brother to the truth.
“Forgive me, Bina, I must not.”
“No, of course it is not your secret. I shall not press you, though I assure you I am very safe. Why, Wynn does not even know that I know...But that is his secret.” Her eyes sparkled with glee, just as Pippa had imagined they would in her own case. “Ah, here is our tea.”
While one footman set up a small table in front of the fireplace and the other unloaded his tray onto it, Pippa wondered about the skeleton in Lord Selworth’s closet. Unless he had more than one, his sister must have found out how he helped support his family before he inherited the viscountcy.
Bina obviously did not regard it as disgraceful. No doubt it was something dull and unromantic in the way of trade, anathema to the Ton, but perfectly acceptable to ordinary people. Pippa felt slightly hurt that he had not trusted her family not to despise him for it.
“Do you still take your tea without milk?” Bina asked.
“Yes, please. Lemon! What a treat!”
“You see, I remember. And ginger snaps, but do not eat too many. I have ordered all your favourites
for dinner, the things we only had at parties: salmon in aspic, escalopes of veal, apricot-almond tarts—do you recall how we sent our partners back for more?”
“Oh yes!” said Pippa, blinking back tears. How could she have doubted her welcome?
“And,” said Bina triumphantly, “from George’s father’s succession houses, a pineapple!”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Into this scene of merriment intruded Lord Selworth. He was wearing evening dress, and despite the tears of mirth in her eyes Pippa noticed the pristine newness of his black coat, fawn Inexpressibles, white marcella waistcoat and neat cravat.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said with a grin, “I did knock but I daresay you didn’t hear. May I share the joke?”
Bina dabbed at her eyes with a tiny lace-edged handkerchief. “You are early, Wynn. Come in, do, and ring for another cup if you would like tea. As for the joke, whether we share it is Pippa’s choice.”
Pippa hesitated, suddenly shy of this elegant stranger. She and Bina had laughed at the absurd figures they had cut on that evening four years ago. She was not at all sure she wanted Lord Selworth to see her in so ridiculous a light.
Then he smiled at her, and it was the same heart-stopping smile as when he had been a shabby stranger. “Have mercy, Miss Lisle,” he said. “You must know the agonies suffered by those who hear laughter and are not permitted to know the cause.”
After all, if he thought her a ninnyhammer, he would be the less likely to guess she was Prometheus. “Bina told me she has provided a pineapple for dinner, sir, which reminded us of an occasion on which we both made cakes of ourselves. Pineapple was served at a supper at a ball we both attended.”
“Neither of us had ever eaten it before,” Bina put in. “We were sitting together, and our partners each brought us a slice.”
“I had been chewing away for some time at the little round piece in the middle,” Pippa went on, “when I looked up and saw Bina sawing away at hers with her knife. Our escorts were too embarrassed to tell us the core was too tough to be edible.”
“They never stood up with us again.”
“At least you were able to abandon yours. I had to swallow mine whole!”
Lord Selworth chuckled. “That reminds me of the first time I was served an artichoke, and choked half to death trying to eat the whole leaf. No ladies present, fortunately, or I’d never have been able to face them again.”
“No artichokes tonight,” said Bina. “Wynn, dinner is at eight, as usual. You are much too early. Pippa and I have not changed yet, and George has not even come home. You will have to entertain yourself.”
“I had hoped for a word with Miss Lisle. Can you spare me a few minutes, Miss Lisle, before you dress?”
Pippa consulted the pretty china clock on the mantelpiece. Not yet seven. She supposed some ladies might take over an hour to change their dress for dinner. However, twenty minutes would be more than enough for her, and his artichoke confession had made her feel quite at ease with him again.
“By all means, Lord Selworth.”
“Shall we step across to the drawing room? Our business is of no interest to Bina. I don’t want to deprive you of your tea, though. Let me pour you another cup, and I’ll carry it for you.”
Preceding him into the drawing room, Pippa looked around, as she had not had leisure to do on her arrival earlier. She did not know a great deal about furniture, but she thought the prevalent style was slightly old-fashioned. The house belonged to George Debenham’s parents, she remembered. Clearly they had no interest in keeping up with the latest rage in decoration.
The walls were plain cream, the chairs covered with moss-green brocade figured in saffron yellow, and the curtains cream brocade with a saffron design. The effect was at once gracious, soothing and comfortable.
Pippa took a seat on a sofa by the fire and held out her hands to the flames, a little nervous at finding herself alone with Lord Selworth. He had left the door open, she noted, and reminded herself that this was a business meeting.
“Are you still chilled after your carriage ride?” he asked abruptly, standing over her. “Are you fatigued from the journey? There is no real need for such haste on my part.”
She smiled up at him. “No, I am neither cold nor tired, sir. It was but half a day’s journey and Mr Debenham’s carriage is quite the most luxurious I have ever been in.”
“I’m glad I thought to suggest that he send it for you.”
“It was your notion? Thank you!”
“Oh, don’t thank me,” he said wryly. “It was entirely for my own benefit. I have not my own travelling chaise with me—which is in any case an antiquated and dilapidated vehicle—and I feared Prometheus would dislike your travelling on the Mail or the common stage. You must know it is an object with me to keep that gentleman happy.”
Though she murmured assent, Pippa still thought it was considerate of him, even if he had made use of his brother-in-law’s carriage for the kind gesture! Few gentlemen would have troubled to spare them the discomfort and expense of a journey by public coach.
“Will you not be seated, Lord Selworth?”
“Just a moment.” He went over to a small table in a corner and retrieved a sheaf of papers, then returned to sit opposite her, holding them on his knee. “Before I show you what I have here, I fear I bear bad news.”
“Bad news?” With Mama and Kitty above stairs and in good health, Pippa could not imagine what he meant.
“Bad news for Prometheus, I should say, though I expect you also will be sorry to hear it. I heard rumours that William Cobbett was to be arrested, so I went to see him.”
“Oh no, has he been imprisoned at Newgate again?” Pippa asked in dismay.
“No, but he feels it necessary to flee the country. Friends are helping him to evade arrest and take ship for America. He is on his way already.”
“I am so glad, but I hope he will be safe in America. Papa told me he was prosecuted there, too, for his writings when last he went into exile.”
“I believe so.” Lord Selworth shook his head with an air of amused disapproval not unmixed with admiration. “Perhaps he will go to a different state, since each has its own laws, I understand. Be that as it may, he entrusted me with what he owes to Prometheus, a foolish gesture, perhaps, since he is badly in debt.”
“Mr Cobbett is an honest man,” Pippa flared up, “if sometimes foolish and prejudiced in his enthusiasm.”
Lord Selworth gave her a curious look. “I did not intend to cast doubt upon his honesty.”
“I beg your pardon, sir, only Papa used to grow quite heated when people failed to appreciate Mr Cobbett’s many excellent qualities.” Which was quite true, but Pippa also hoped the viscount would assume she had been merely quoting her father rather than expressing her own view.
She must keep a closer guard on her tongue.
“Cobbett deserves respect for his dedication to principle even at risk of his own safety,” Lord Selworth said pacifically, adding with a rueful smile, “I share many of his opinions, and those of your father and Prometheus, as you know, but I’m not sure I’m willing to go to prison to defend them. Let us hope it will not come to that! Nor do I wish to be gaoled for embezzlement—here is the money for you to convey to Prometheus.”
Standing, he took from his pocket a small cloth purse, which clinked as he placed it in Pippa’s hand. He sat down again, at her side now, and riffled through the sheaf of papers.
“I have here two versions of my speech. One is the full text, my latest effort, and the other the same stripped of all the flowery stuff.” He dropped them in his lap, leant back, and ran his hand through his hair, his expression frustrated and mortified. “You see, it’s the figures of speech and illustrative examples and that sort of thing which defeat me, yet one needs something if one is not to put one’s audience to sleep.”
“Nothing so dull as undiluted facts and figures. As Papa was wont to say!” Pippa added h
astily.
“Precisely. Since you were used to make fair copies for Mr Lisle, perhaps you would not mind skimming through and deciding which will be most useful for Prometheus to work on?”
Pippa could scarcely believe her luck. He had handed her the perfect excuse for knowing the contents of his speech. Moreover, without seeming to suspect the truth, he trusted her judgment as his go-between with Prometheus, making it much easier to pretend to interpret that mythical figure’s pronouncements.
Besides being flattering.
“I shall be happy to read them,” she said primly. “Do you wish me to inform you which I have picked before I send it to Prometheus? You are staying here?”
“Just send your choice, or both, if you think it best. I shall refund the postal charges, naturally. No, I’m not putting up here.”
“Oh dear, have we driven you out?” Pippa asked in dismay. “I am so sorry!”
He smiled. “Come now, Miss Lisle, you must recollect that you are doing me a favour, not the reverse. I have perfectly comfortable lodgings, I promise you. A friend of Chubb’s and mine has sub-let his rooms in Albany to us for the Season, as neither of us has a family house in Town. Chubb’s parents are as averse to London as was my great-uncle.”
“Does Mr Chubb mean to do the Season? How brave!” Pippa said without thinking, then clapped a horrified hand to her mouth.
To her relief, Lord Selworth’s blue eyes twinkled. “Brave indeed. Perhaps I should warn you that he is rather taken with your sister. I hope she will continue forbearing.”