The Baron's Honourable Daughter

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The Baron's Honourable Daughter Page 22

by Lynn Morris


  In contrast, Daniel Everleigh was a handsome young man, barely twenty, with thick curly light-brown hair, bright brown eyes, and a friendly expression. His appraisal of Valeria was frankly appreciative.

  Stephen Tryon, Paul Northbrooke, and Charles Ponsonby arrived then, and Valeria found them exactly as Lady Hylton had described them to her. Lord Stephen, a ruinously handsome man, immediately began exercising his considerable charm on her. Northbrooke and Ponsonby were both mild-mannered, agreeable young men with unremarkable features except that Northbrooke was like a jolly squire and Ponsonby was exceptionally amiable.

  When the butler announced Lord and Lady Sefton, for the first time Valeria felt some uneasiness. Lord Sefton was a bluff, barrel-chested man with a pugnacious jaw, a high brandy-drinker’s complexion, and a rather loud voice. But his greeting to Valeria was courteous, and his smile welcoming.

  But it was Lady Sefton, a rather plain but elegant woman, who amazed Valeria. As she made her curtsy, Lady Sefton smiled serenely and said, “Lady Hylton told me that you would surely be an acknowledged beauty, Miss Segrave, and now I see that it is true. Charming, charming.”

  Slightly flustered, Valeria murmured, “Thank you, Lady Sefton.”

  As was traditional for dinner parties, the drawing room where they gathered was something like a holding pen, although when Valeria had observed as much to Lady Hylton, her godmother had rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t you dare make such a vulgar remark to anyone in London, Valeria. I swear if you do I’ll disown you.” Still, Valeria couldn’t help but feel that way for the few minutes they waited for dinner to be announced. They all stood; no one sat. No refreshments were served. Conversation was limited to the journeys they’d made—from a trip across the square, as Valeria and Regina had made, to Lord and Lady Sefton’s travel from their Park Lane mansion a few blocks away.

  At last the butler entered and announced stentoriously, “Dinner is served.” Briskly but discreetly Lady Hylton and Alastair arranged the manner in which everyone was to proceed back down to the ground floor and into the dining room.

  Regina had explained to Valeria that in contrast to country dinner parties, dinner parties in Town had strict rules for exactly who was to escort whom into the dining room. The precedence, according to each person’s ranking in society, was a very serious matter. Regina had told Valeria, “I know of no one, not even Lady Hylton, who has all these rules memorized for every occasion, because generally the guests at each dinner party are different. A hostess is well advised to consult Debrett’s Correct Form when any guest’s particular standing is in question. Still, there are a few general rules you would do well to remember. The host escorts the highest-ranking lady present, and she will be seated by him. The highest-ranking gentleman present will escort the hostess. The seating sometimes may be by rank, but at table it is considered preferable to preserve a lady-gentleman seating arrangement than it is to adhere too strictly only to the order of preference.”

  Valeria was confused to see that Alastair, as the host, took her mother’s arm to escort her in first. She would have thought that Lady Sefton, as one of the patronesses of Almack’s, would actually have a much higher standing in society than Regina, Countess of Maledon. After all, Lady Sefton was also a countess. But then Valeria recalled what her mother had told her about the nature of peerages: Regina was the widow of the fourth Earl of Maledon, while Lord Sefton was “only” the second Earl of Sefton. Valeria inwardly sighed; she thought that she would never be able to conduct a formal dinner party in Town without making some silly mistake. Then it occurred to her, as a rather cold comfort, that she likely would never be a wealthy hostess giving fabulous parties.

  As the daughter of a baron, Valeria was at the bottom of this exclusive social ladder, and the Honourable Paul Northbrooke was her escort. As he offered her his arm he said, “We may be last in precedence, Miss Segrave, but I must say that I think I have the honor of escorting the prettiest lady.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” Valeria said as they followed the train of people going downstairs, “but I think that distinction belongs to my own mother.”

  “She is indeed a beauty, even in widow’s weeds,” he agreed. Then, with a cautious sidelong glance at Valeria, he added, “Please accept my sincerest condolences upon the death of your stepfather, Miss Segrave.”

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Northbrooke,” Valeria said coolly.

  The Hylton town house was larger and more sumptuous than Maledon’s. The dining room was long and rectangular, with ravenous roaring fires in the cavernous fireplaces on all four walls. The furniture was heavy and ornate Elizabethan, all red velvet and gold, and the white damask tablecloths were as thick as the heaviest satin. Some slight shuffling around occurred, as the seats were labeled with place cards written in lavish calligraphy. A footman, clad in the dramatic black-and-silver livery of the house of Hylton, stood behind each of the fourteen chairs. Lady Hylton had “borrowed” Ned and Royce, as she had only twelve footmen in Town, and as Valeria surreptitiously observed the grand attendants, she noted with satisfaction that the two Maledon footmen were by far the most handsome. And, she thought with placid satisfaction, their calves were also the most muscular.

  Valeria found that she was seated between Lord Sefton and Daniel Everleigh. As the diners all sat down together with rigid formality, with the footmen placing their chairs just so, Valeria determined that she would not keep her conversation fatuous and insipid, as society dictated. A man such as Lord Sefton could hardly be interested in her observations about the weather. The footmen began serving the first course, a choice of three different kinds of soup, braised veal cutlets, assorted sweetbreads, turbot with lobster sauce, and oyster patties with lemon sauce. With an inward sigh she reminded herself of her mother’s instructions; dinner was to be five full courses, and although the diners were not expected to partake of every single dish, ladies must appear to appreciatively taste most, and so Valeria knew she shouldn’t take more than a bite or two of each dish.

  To Valeria’s delight the first soup she was offered was her favorite, and she signaled the footman to give her a double portion, utterly disregarding her own advice to herself. “Soup à la cantatrice,” she said to Lord Sefton, who was watching her. “My utmost favorite, sir.”

  He repeated curiously, “Cantatrice? Soup of the singer?”

  “Yes, sir. The principal ingredients are the yolks of eggs, and the hearts of sago palms, creamed, which have always been deemed very beneficial to the throat and lungs. It is one of Lady Hylton’s chef’s specialties, and I find it to be perfectly delicious.”

  “Then I shall have it too,” he said decidedly, signaling the footman. Politely he asked Valeria, “I understand that this is your first Season, Miss Segrave. How do you find London so far?”

  “Foggy, damp, and cold, sir. But let me assure you that it has not dampened my excitement. Even if it’s so thick I can only see as far as my horse’s nose I intend to take my first ride in Hyde Park tomorrow,” she answered, her eyes shining.

  He nodded enthusiastically. “I either ride or take out my carriage every afternoon, regardless of weather. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

  “So I hear,” Valeria said mischievously. “Your nickname makes your preferences clear.”

  He looked surprised, for this was a somewhat bold comment for a young lady, but he was clearly amused. “I know you can’t have been in Town more than a day or two, and you tell me that you’ve already heard that foolish sobriquet.”

  “It doesn’t seem silly at all to me, sir; I find it daring, in a good sort of way, of course. ‘Lord Dashalong’ is so much better than, for example, ‘Lord Plodalong’ or ‘Lord Bustle-along.’ Already I’ve seen some gentlemen riding in Town who could be named such.”

  He grinned widely. “Isn’t it so, and ladies too. Then again, I’ve seen some ladies who are excellent whips, Lady Lydgate, for example. She rackets around in the Park as fast as do I. Do you drive, Miss Segrave?”<
br />
  “I can, but I much prefer to ride,” Valeria answered enthusiastically. “I have an amazing horse from the Maledon stables, and I can hardly wait to show him off.”

  “Ah, yes, the famous Maledon horses. I’m positively envious of Hylton’s new Maledon stallion. I’ve determined to go to Tattersalls on Thursday to see the four that are up for sale. If any of them are up to snuff I might buy one myself.”

  “Oh, they are all of them up to snuff,” Valeria declared. “In fact, you may wish to buy two of them, matched chestnuts that have already shown themselves to be quite showy in pulling a phaeton. They would help to increase your fame as Lord Dashalong.”

  As they continued an animated conversation about the Maledon stables, Valeria noted that although Alastair Hylton was politely attentive to Lady Sturway, his gaze often rested on her. As always, it made her uneasy, but she managed to direct all her attention to Lord Sefton, who was proving to be a lively and interesting dinner partner.

  When the first course was finished and the second, a selection of roasts, assorted sauces and jellies, and vegetables, was served, Lady Hylton “turned the table” and so Valeria turned to Daniel Everleigh. “I’m afraid I’ve already committed a faux pas, Mr. Everleigh,” she sighed. “I ate entirely too much of the soup in the first course. I don’t know how I shall ever manage to get through four more courses.”

  “The roasts are always my downfall,” he said. “Make quite a glutton of myself sometimes, especially with Lady Hylton’s new French chef. Take this roasted leg of lamb with white truffle sauce, one can’t get a dish like this anywhere else in London, the man’s a genius.”

  “So Lady Hylton says, and she also tells me that he’s an overbearing martinet,” Valeria said. “Apparently he has the entire household cowering.”

  “I doubt Hylton cowers much,” Everleigh said, glancing at Alastair. “But for my own part I’d bow and scrape to Monsieur Longet just for the truffle sauce.”

  “I somehow doubt that,” Valeria replied, her eyes dancing. “At least, that is far from the impression Lady Hylton gave me when she acquainted me with all the guests. This is my very first dinner party of my very first Season, you know, so Lady Hylton was kind enough to ‘pre-introduce’ me to everyone, if you understand.”

  “Of course I understand. Gossiping in London is one of the chief pastimes. I hope Lady Hylton gave me a favorable recommendation.”

  “Mm, one might say it was double-edged. She said you’ve been friends with Lord Hylton for a couple of years, and you make a delightful addition to any dinner party. And then she said sternly that although she knows about all of your youthful indiscretions, she had no intention of recounting them to me. I was quite disappointed.”

  He grinned. Everleigh really was a most attractive man, with a bright shrewd gaze and a ready smart smile. “Never mind, by the end of the Season you’ll know everything about everyone else, as we all do. I understand that since your mother is in half mourning, Lady Hylton will be chaperoning you for public events?”

  “Yes; she is my godmother, you see. I’m so excited, for she, and Lord and Lady Lydgate, who have also kindly offered to sponsor me, already have several events planned, although it is so very early in the Season. Lady Lydgate is having a small dinner party on Thursday, and on Friday we’re going to Covent Garden. I hear that Angelica Catalani’s Susanna in Le Nozze de Figaro is simply fabulous.”

  “She is amazing,” Everleigh said enthusiastically. “I’ve seen her perform several times.” Then he paused and made a theatrically downcast face. “I’m devastated that Lady Lydgate didn’t include me in her dinner party. It’s not fair, for I’m so looking forward to furthering our acquaintance, Miss Segrave. Ah, well, I suppose it’s too late now for me to cadge an invitation.” Then he brightened. “But I shall hound Hylton to invite me to attend in their box on Friday night. You can’t escape me, you see.”

  “And why should I wish to do such a thing, sir?” Valeria replied brightly.

  Daniel Everleigh looked delighted, and continued to flirt outrageously with her throughout the three-hour-long dinner. Valeria thought that she was likely smiling too much, and might have at times committed the sin of laughing softly, and she noted Alastair Hylton’s occasional coldly disapproving glances, but by now she hardly cared.

  At last the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port and cigars. They gathered around a cheery fire, seating themselves on the luxurious sofas and armchairs. Valeria composedly took a seat next to Adele Everleigh. In spite of Miss Everleigh’s thinly veiled coldness toward her, Valeria truly did wish to make new friends in London. “Lady Hylton tells me that this is your first Season too, Miss Everleigh. Are you as excited as I am?”

  Miss Everleigh answered stiffly, “Of course, every girl is excited in her first Season. It is particularly fortunate that I am to debut this year, as the Queen has resumed her Drawing Rooms. I’m to be presented in her first one for almost two years, since the King fell ill.”

  Valeria’s eyes brightened. “Yes, in April. I too have received my royal summons. In fact, just yesterday I ordered my presentation gown. Do you have yours yet, Miss Everleigh?”

  “I have ordered it, yes.”

  Valeria sighed inwardly; this was hard going. Just then a lull fell in the conversation among the other ladies and Lady Sefton said, “I believe you were speaking of the Presentation Drawing Room in April, Miss Segrave? And so your application has been approved?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and I am so sensible of the honor, although I’m exceedingly nervous. I was just telling Miss Everleigh that I ordered my dress, and that in itself was an ordeal,” Valeria said with chagrin. “It took hours for me to make up my mind about the fabric, the color, the trim, the accessories. I’m afraid all of my ditherings tried my mother’s patience no end.”

  Regina sighed gently. “It was not I whom you drove to distraction, dearest, it was Madame Tournai. I declare, at one point I thought she was going to suggest that we seek out another modiste.”

  “Really?” Adele Everleigh said icily. “Are you that difficult to please, Miss Segrave?”

  “I expect so,” Valeria answered. “In most things, anyway. But it wasn’t my endless demands to see everything in Madame Tournai’s establishment that so horrified her, it was when I tried to convince her that I wanted a different style of dress. To her my suggestions apparently were tantamount to a crime.”

  Lady Sefton said, “Surely, Miss Segrave, you know that the dress code for presentation is very strict. No dressmaker could countenance one of her creations’ being presented to the Queen that was, um, démodé.”

  “Yes, ma’am, so Madame Tournai told me in no uncertain terms, several times,” Valeria said. “But it’s not as if I wanted to appear in costume, or in a riding habit. All I wanted was for the dress to have a natural waistline, instead of an Empire.”

  Adele Everleigh frowned. “Whyever should you want such a ridiculous thing, Miss Segrave? You would appear frightfully à l’ancienne. Ladies’ dresses have not had a natural waist for ages now.”

  “I know, it’s just that the wide hoops we’re required to wear look ridiculous, with the dress flaring out from an Empire waist,” Valeria replied. “We look like small corks stuck in a big fat bottle.”

  The reaction to this observation from the other ladies was one of shock, although Lady Hylton didn’t appear to be surprised; she rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. Then Lady Sefton lifted her fan to her face and chuckled. “Miss Segrave, I must admit you are in the right of it, but I wouldn’t advise you to advertise that opinion too widely. Some ladies may not see the humor.”

  “Certainly not,” Lady Sturway said under her breath.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Valeria said to Lady Sefton meekly. “I know that sometimes I express my thoughts too readily. I shall endeavor to correct such inclinations.”

  Adele and her mother Lady Sturway exchanged disdainful glances. Lady Sturway said, “Yes, Miss Segrave, y
ou must indeed. I am aware that your upbringing has been rather provincial, but there are strict rules of propriety in London that a well-bred young lady must follow. Outrageous pronouncements of any kind are not welcomed in any drawing room.”

  Lightly Lady Sefton said, “That is true, Lady Sturway, but a bright and clever young woman is always welcomed into society. Enthusiasms must certainly be curbed, but the rules should not be positively stifling.”

  Lady Sturway looked appropriately chastised, and Lady Sefton turned back to Valeria. “At any rate, Miss Segrave, your dressmaker does appear to be an expert one, if what you are wearing this evening is one of her creations.”

  “So it is,” Valeria said, her spirits rising again. “When we ordered my new wardrobe I was so happy for Madame Tournai to tell me that we are now allowed some more extravagant trimmings for our dresses, such as the new Vandyke edgings and à la Mameluke sleeves. Ever since I came out of the schoolroom it has seemed to me that our dresses have been so plainly adorned that in line dances all of us young ladies look like a row of Ionic columns.”

  This time Lady Sefton immediately laughed softly, while Adele and Lady Sturway managed halfhearted polite smiles.

  Just then the men came trooping in, smelling of port fumes and cigar smoke. The men stood around the women, and there was blandly general, polite conversation for a time. Then, with a slightly devilish air, Alastair said, “Miss Segrave, since you are such an accomplished musician, won’t you grace us with some music?”

  Valeria managed to stop herself from positively making a face at him, though she did shoot him a dagger-ridden glance. Eyeing her with lightly veiled amusement, Lady Sefton said, “Yes, Miss Segrave, I should love to hear you play, I understand that you’re very skilled at the pianoforte.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Valeria said resignedly.

  The pianoforte was at one end of the room, with side chairs grouped comfortably around it, and everyone settled themselves as Valeria sat down and filed through the sheet music. Miss Everleigh looked distinctly displeased, and Valeria recalled that Lady Hylton had told her that Adele was a particularly gifted musician. Suddenly feeling reckless, Valeria laid down the sheet music and began to play. She kept her defiant gaze fixed on Alastair Hylton, who looked sardonically amused.

 

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