Needing to stave off those unhappy thoughts, she decided to look in on her mama, who, she suspected, might be feeling a bit low. With a loyal maid who kept her appraised of everything happening in the household, she could not help but know that her precious daughter Pru, about to leave her house, most likely never to live in it again, had declined to invite her to her farewell tea.
Temperance could understand her sister’s bitterness towards the mother whose profligate behaviour had spilled over to poison their lives. But she also understood how a woman’s mere appearance led to assumptions, attack and uninvited abuse.
And knowing her papa, she could completely understand why a woman as vivacious, outgoing and passionate as her mother, denied affection and even basic interaction with her husband, would in desperation have sought it elsewhere.
After knocking lightly on the door, she walked in—to find her mama lounging on her sofa by the window, draped in one of her favourite diaphanous, lace-trimmed negligées. Temper had never seen the inside of a bordello, but she couldn’t imagine even the loveliest denizen of such a place looking more beautiful and seductive than her mother.
Smiling at the picture Lady Vraux presented, she walked over to drop a kiss on that artful arrangement of blonde curls.
‘Temperance!’ her mother said in surprise, delight on her face as she turned from the window and saw her daughter—but not before Temper noticed the bleak expression the smile had chased away. ‘I’d call for tea, but I expect by now you’re awash in it. The travellers are off, I imagine.’
So she did know she’d been excluded, Temper thought with a wave of sympathy for her mama. Pru’s resentment might be justly earned—but that wouldn’t make the estrangement any less bitter for a mother who, Temper knew, truly loved her children.
‘Gussie couldn’t talk you into going with them?’ Lady Vraux asked as she patted the sofa, inviting Temper to take a seat beside her.
Temper gave a dramatic shudder. ‘To Bath? To drink the vile waters and be ogled by old men? I think not.’
‘So what do you intend? I very much doubt Vraux will release your dowry. Christopher, then Gregory, stopped by to visit this morning and told me you intended to approach him.’
‘I did and you are right. He won’t release it to me.’
Lady Vraux rubbed Temper’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, my darling. If I had any money of my own, you’d be welcome to it.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Unfortunately, I never had a feather to fly with, which is how I ended up married to Vraux in the first place.’
Her mother’s family had been noble but penniless, Temper knew. The wealthy Lord Vraux’s offer to settle the Portmans’ debts in exchange for their Incomparable daughter’s hand had been a bargain they would not let her refuse. No matter how cold, impersonal and unapproachable the character of the baron who’d made the offer.
‘So you’ll go forward with a Season?’ Concern, regret and sadness succeeded the smile on her face. ‘I would advise against it, my sweet. Not this year. Gussie is quite right in assessing your chances of success to be minimal after the Farnham-Hallsworthy fiasco.’
Dropping Temper’s hand, she turned away. ‘I... I am sorry about that. You do know I did nothing to encourage them! I haven’t taken a new lover for more than five years, just as I promised. And I was hopeful that Gussie, with her standing and influence, could smooth a path for the two of you despite...despite your unfortunate parentage.’
Temper gathered her mother’s hand again. ‘I know, Mama. I don’t blame you for the idiocy of men.’
‘Pru does, though.’
Temper was trying to find some palliative for that unfortunate truth when her mother continued, ‘I’ve earned whatever infamy I bear, and as Miss Austen’s Mary observes, “the loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable”. But I hate that it continues to reflect upon you.’
‘It doesn’t matter for me. Unlike Pru, I have no desire to wed. But if Papa will not allow me to do anything else until I’ve had a Season, then I intend to get it over with. I expect it will be a noteworthy failure—indeed, I hope it is, the better to convince him a good marriage is impossible and get him to release my dowry.’
‘There’s no guarantee he will do so, even if your Season is unsuccessful,’ her mother pointed out.
That was the one great flaw in her plan, she had to admit. ‘True. But if I tell him I intend to journey to whatever place offers the treasure he is currently most interested in acquiring, so I may procure for him exactly what he wants, I might persuade him. You know he thinks of nothing but obtaining the latest object that catches his fancy.’
‘That true enough,’ Lady Vraux acknowledged. ‘Coming at it from that direction, I suppose there is a chance you might persuade him.’ After hesitating a moment, she said, ‘Are you so sure you don’t want to marry? Not to be indelicate, but you’re not getting any younger, darling. When I was your age, Gregory was four, Christopher two, and I was enceinte with you! I know your father and I have hardly offered an encouraging example of the estate, but Christopher and Ellie seem happy enough, so you must see that contentment in marriage is possible. And marriage would offer you children. That is a joy I’d hate to see you deny yourself.’
For a moment, Temper was tempted to blurt out the dreadful truth she’d hidden from everyone for so long. But since revealing it would probably wound her mother more than it would bring Temper comfort, she bit back the words.
‘I’ll have Pru’s brats to love,’ she said instead. ‘You know I’ve read every travel journal I could find since I was a girl! Travelling to exotic places—and finding treasures to bring back for Papa—is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. A dream of which a husband is unlikely to approve. And once he got his greedy hands on my dowry, a dream I would no longer have the funds to pursue.’
‘That is likely true. A lady with funds of her own to do what she wishes? I can’t even imagine it.’
‘Well, I can and I like the image very much. So, yes, I’ll remain in London, debut if I can find a sponsor and brazen it out.’
‘Gregory said that Gifford Newell offered to approach his godmother, Lady Sayleford, on your behalf. A formidable lady!’ Lady Vraux shook her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘The Dowager Countess’s position is so unassailable, she even invites me to her entertainments. Then makes a point of ensuring all the disapproving society matrons see her chatting with me. She just might enjoy sticking her thumb in society’s eye by sponsoring you. And under her care, you would be protected from the...disdain which I fear you might otherwise suffer.’
Temper wasn’t about to increase her mother’s worry by confessing she expected to meet with a lot of disdain, regardless of who sponsored her. She was too angry that, despite six years of impeccable behaviour where gentlemen were concerned, there was neither forgiveness nor tolerance for her mother. Whereas she knew for certain that a number of noble men conducted affairs in full view of their wives and suffered no social consequences whatsoever.
‘If Newell does secure you her sponsorship,’ her mother continued, ‘I shall be very pleased to see you immersed in all the activities of the Season. You needn’t worry that I’ll feel neglected. I have Ellie and my friends. And who knows what might happen? I will pray for your happiness and success.’
‘Then you will be praying for me to journey to exotic places!’
Lady Vraux tapped Temper’s cheek, her smile bittersweet. ‘There is no journey so exotic and unexpected as a journey of the heart.’
If that journey led to marriage, it was one she could never dare take, Temper thought sadly. But before she could become mired in melancholy, her mama said, ‘If you do embark on a Season, let me give you one more piece of advice. Never show fear or weakness, or your enemies will fall on you like rabid dogs. It’s better to be scorned than pitied.’
Rising, Temper leaned down to kiss her mama’s cheek. ‘That�
��s a piece of advice I can embrace wholeheartedly!’ After crossing the room, she stopped in the doorway to look back at her mother. ‘Whatever society says or thinks, I am proud to be your daughter, Mama.’
Lady Vraux took a shuddering breath, tears glistening at the ends of her improbably long lashes. ‘Your loyalty is precious, if ill advised. I would wish you to end your Season with more success than I did.’
‘If I end it with the prospect of travel to foreign places, I shall be satisfied indeed.’ Blowing her mother a kiss, determined to move towards the future she wanted, Temper walked out.
Chapter Four
Four days later, Lady Sayleford’s butler ushered Gifford Newell and Temperance Lattimar into the Great Parlour of the Dowager Countess’s imposing Grosvenor Square mansion. ‘I’ll tell the Countess you have arrived,’ he intoned before bowing himself out.
‘What a lovely room,’ Temperance said, looking around the chamber, its delicate plaster decoration done up in pastel shades. ‘Pure Robert Adams, isn’t it?’
Was she remarking about decor to conceal her nervousness? Gifford wondered. He’d discovered an intriguing new side to Temperance Lattimar during their drive here this afternoon—that instead of behaving with her usual blunt exuberance, when she wished to, she could conceal her thoughts and feelings behind an impenetrable façade. Ever since he’d arrived at Vraux House to escort her to this interview, she’d been calm, composed—and for the first time since he’d known her, utterly unreadable.
‘It is Adams,’ he confirmed. ‘Lady Sayleford was one of his first sponsors, engaging him to redecorate the public rooms of Sayleford House when she was just a young bride.’
‘The symmetry, balance and delicacy of the mouldings are beautiful,’ Temperance said. ‘I’m so glad she didn’t decide to change it out for the new Egyptian style.’
‘Not a fan of crocodile legs and zebrawood carving?’
‘Not unless I’m encountering them on the Nile!’
‘Are you truly interested in furnishings and such?’ he asked curiously. ‘I never knew.’
‘Of course I’m interested in furnishings—and architecture and sculpture and painting!’ she retorted, giving him a look that questioned his intelligence. ‘Why else would I be so interested in travelling to foreign places—or knowledgeable enough to promise Papa I could search out the treasures he seeks? It’s not just the changing landscape abroad that fascinates. Just as interesting are the arts and artefacts that reveal so much about culture and character.’
‘Little Temper—the scholar?’ he teased.
‘She certainly will be—once she has the chance,’ she shot back. ‘Since employment in the Foreign Office or in Parliament is currently denied her.’
Gifford was chuckling at that as she continued, ‘Before the Countess arrives, let me thank you once again for arranging the interview. And let me apologise in advance, if my behaviour embarrasses you.’
Puzzled, he tilted his head at her. ‘Why would it embarrass me?’
‘Because, if I do have a Season, I must warn her I have no intention of behaving like a modest, accommodating young miss eager to attract a husband. I’m more interested in discouraging suitors, so I may get through the Season and go my own way.’
Before he could respond to that, Harris returned to announce the Dowager Countess. Gifford and Temperance rose, the ladies exchanging curtsies while he bowed.
‘Gifford, you rascal,’ Lady Sayleford said as he came over to kiss her cheek. ‘It’s a sad thing when it takes an errand on behalf of a chit of a girl to get you to visit your poor godmother.’
‘I admit it, I have been remiss,’ he said. ‘Parliament is busy.’
‘I’m sure,’ she murmured. ‘Leaves only enough time to visit the doxies you favour—in company with this young lady’s brother, I understand.’
To his chagrin, Temperance choked back a giggle. ‘You are just as well informed as Gifford promised, Countess.’
‘So what is it you wish me to do for you, young lady?’
‘It’s rather what, if anything, you wish to do, Lady Sayleford. To be honest, I wouldn’t have approached you at all, had Gifford not insisted. Being well informed, I’m sure you know about the latest scandal involving my mother.’
‘Farnham and Hallsworthy,’ the Countess said. ‘Idiots.’
‘Exactly,’ Temperance agreed, her glorious smile breaking out. ‘As you probably also know, my aunt, Lady Stoneway, has chosen not to present my sister and me in London this Season as planned and has taken Prudence to Bath instead.’
‘And why you did not wish to accompany them?’
Gifford winced. Trust his godmother to dispense with the standard politenesses and probe directly to the point.
‘Unlike my sister, I don’t wish to marry, so there was no reason to accompany them to a place which would improve my chances of contracting a match. However, since Lord Vraux insists I must have a presentation, I’d rather follow our original plan and debut here, this Season. Once that’s over, I hope to persuade him to release some funds so that I may do what I truly want to do.’
‘Go exploring foreign places, like Lady Hester Stanhope? You really think you could persuade Vraux to fund that, simply because you fail to marry after your first Season?’
‘It will be difficult, I grant. But if I can show him that no respectable gentleman will offer for me and vow to dedicate my explorations to tracking down whatever he’s currently seeking, I might succeed. He’s only ever been interested in things, after all.’
‘Too sadly true. So, with Lady Stoneway off to Bath, you need a sponsor. Someone whose standing in society will make up for your mother’s lack of it?’
Wincing at the remark, Giff braced himself for the furious defence of Lady Vraux that would likely spell an abrupt end to this interview. Instead, to his surprise, Temperance...smiled.
Granted, the smile was thin and he could almost see her head steaming from the fury she was holding in, but—hold it in she did.
Another revelation! Apparently, Temperance Lattimar could not only mask her feelings, she could withstand being goaded—which he was sure his godmother was doing deliberately, to see what sort of response Miss Lattimar could be prodded into producing.
She was certainly angry, for though her tone remained pleasant, the gaze she fixed on Lady Sayleford was frigid. ‘I’m sure I could turn up among my relations a matron more respectable than Mama to sponsor me. However, since only a woman of unbounded influence could force enough of society to receive a daughter of the infamous Lady Vraux that my father would consider my presentation adequate, I agreed to let Mr Newell approach you. Since sponsoring a daughter of the infamous Lady Vraux is likely to be thought poor judgement on the part of anyone foolish enough to attempt the task, it would be wise of you to steer clear of me. And now, I expect we have taken up enough of your valuable time.’
As Giff drew in a sharp breath, she started to rise—only to check as the Dowager Countess held out a hand. ‘Please, sit, my dear,’ she said in pleasant tones, as if Temperance’s reply hadn’t been a defiant rebuttal, however obliquely delivered. ‘We haven’t yet had our tea.’
As she spoke, the butler walked in with the tray, placing it on the table and pouring for them. Temperance sat in such absolute stillness, then took her cup with such measured precision, Giff had the vision of some wild beast from the Royal Menagerie immobilised by chains. How long could she restrain that anger? And would he be the unlucky victim of that storm when it did break?
After setting down her own cup, Lady Sayleford said, ‘So, you think I should “steer clear of you”, Miss Lattimar? Do you truly think I am in the habit of being guided by chits of two-and-twenty with no experience of the world and nothing but an outrageous reputation to boast of?’
Temperance’s face paled and Giff felt his own anger rise. He’d brought Temper here to ask for
help—not to have his imperious godmother subject her to the sort of set-down that had reduced matrons twice her age to tears.
Before Giff could intervene, Temperance set down her cup—and burst out laughing. ‘Goodness, no, Countess!’ she said when she’d controlled her mirth. ‘I sincerely doubt you’ve ever been guided by anyone.’
Lady Sayleford smiled, as if Temper had passed some sort of test. Which, Giff supposed she just had—neither wilting under the Countess’s pointed questioning, nor flying into a tantrum.
‘You don’t seem inclined to be guided, either,’ the Countess observed. ‘Certainly not by Lady Stoneway, who you must admit has only your best interests at heart.’
Temperance’s amusement vanished as quickly as it had arisen. ‘I do know that. But Mama has been treated outrageously for years. By Papa. By society. Lately, for things that are not at all her fault. I don’t intend to hide away and act as if I believe they were.’
Lady Sayleford nodded. ‘Your loyalty to your mother is admirable and, as you may know, I value family loyalty highly. But you must admit that your mother was very foolish when she was younger and society is not forgiving.’
‘Not of a woman,’ Temperance said acerbically. ‘Especially not one who is beautiful, charming and a magnet for the attention of every gentleman in the room.’
‘They are much quicker to exile a Beauty than a wallflower, aren’t they?’ the Countess replied drily. ‘I believe you do have enough backbone to last a Season. So, let me see... Vraux has pots of money. Angela, a niece of my late husband’s, is a widow living in straitened circumstances, her son in the Royal Navy, her daughter married to some country nobody. To enjoy a Season in London, she would probably agree to serve as your chaperon. If your father will see her properly clothed and pay her expenses, I shall send for her.’
‘Before you offer to help me, I must warn you that, even backed by your approval, I expect to meet with a considerable amount of disapproval. If goaded, I might be...irresistibly tempted to do something outrageous, just to live down to society’s expectations. Which, of course, would further my goal of discouraging suitors.’
The Earl's Inconvenient Wife Page 4