Lady Eugenia's Holiday

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Lady Eugenia's Holiday Page 2

by Shirley Marks


  “I usually do not accompany my mother on her calls,” Lady Penelope explained to Eugenia, “but I knew she planned to see your aunt and I wanted to meet with you again.”

  “I am so very glad you came. I’m afraid I do not find my aunt’s acquaintances as entertaining as she—and they have been here for hours it seems.” But, of course, it couldn’t have been.

  “Well, they’ve all overstayed their welcome.” Lady Penelope glanced about them before suggesting, “What do you think about you and I paying a visit to the lending library? I believe it is just down the street?”

  “Is that not equally as tiresome?” Eugenia replied, totally exasperated at her new friend. “I cannot imagine anyplace more uninteresting!”

  Lady Penelope persuaded her that they should leave. Eugenia did not put up much of a fight when pressed to collect her pelisse, hat, and reticule before accompanying her friend out the front door.

  “My dear, Lady Eugenia.” Lady Penelope grasped Eugenia’s hand and pulled her near as they strolled down the front walk of the house. “I believe you are quite mistaken—you truly do not understand.”

  Eugenia had to admit that it felt good to step out of the house and move about after hours of sitting and entertaining visitors. The company of Lady Penelope made the short foot journey all the more enjoyable. Twenty minutes later they had arrived.

  The lending library was not at all similar to the one Eugenia visited at home where one simply borrowed books. Here ladies and gentlemen not only found books but enjoyed tea and one another’s company. Lady Penelope could not have been more correct.

  There were so many people deep in conversation and Eugenia could easily imagine being one of them. Filled with worthwhile, pleasurable activity, she thought this was where she could spend many a pleasant afternoon.

  Brighton seemed to be the perfect place to wait out the interval before attending the Little Season in the fall. Her stay here may even work to her benefit.

  It might have proved impossible for Eugenia to appear anything but a country miss because her younger years were spent in the country. She often wondered if it would set her apart from the others, who seemed comfortable in a mixed social setting. Here in Brighton she might acquire a dusting of the much-needed town bronze.

  Furthermore, it could be entirely possible to meet a suitable parti here in Brighton, as Lady Penelope had previously suggested. Eugenia would not dismiss the notion nor place a light emphasis on the chance occurrence if she were lucky enough to have it happen to her.

  Chapter 2

  The collection of calling cards that had accumulated that afternoon was not to be believed! Aunt Rose fanned out the invitations on the table for Eugenia to see on her return from the lending library.

  There must have been at least a dozen to choose from. Eugenia tried to imagine what parties awaited her—balls, soirees, and routs! Perhaps she would attend a garden party, the theater, or perhaps give bathing in the ocean a try!

  Before she left with her mother, Lady Penelope urged Eugenia to choose her evening diversions carefully—and, of course, they would wish to attend the same parties.

  While perusing the invitations, Mr. Forth, the Master of Ceremonies called. He invited Aunt Rose and Eugenia to the masquerade ball, occurring at the Old Ship Inn the Thursday night after this. The assembly room would be providing their guests with masks and dominos at the front door.

  Just the mention of the approaching ball brought Eugenia to despair regarding her wardrobe. She could not help but feel that the gowns she had brought were so plain and would not do.

  Although she lacked the skill to do her own alterations, she would instruct Aunt Rose’s maid Katrina to drop the shoulders on her pale blue muslin and add a double-gold soutache to her dark green silk. That, Eugenia thought, should be sufficient.

  “This evening we shall share dinner with my dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Penshurst before her musical fete,” Aunt Rose told Eugenia, completely ignoring the remaining plateful of invitations.

  Why on earth would they share dinner with an old friend when they had this plethora of invitations from which to choose? Surely there would be some more desirable entertainment to pass that evening.

  Is that not what Aunt Rose had promised her? Surely she must have known just how much Eugenia wished to visit the ballrooms?

  However, it did not signify. Not one complaint passed through Eugenia’s lips as she dressed to accompany her aunt. She accepted her fate and consoled herself, knowing that she need not wear her best frock to this type of function, deciding that her dark green silk with the short puffed sleeves would suffice.

  To her surprise Lady Penelope attended, which improved the prospects of the evening greatly. Eugenia believed that there would not be a dull moment if she were in the company of her friend.

  At the musicale, they met the hostess’ daughter, Miss Cynthia Penshurst. Eugenia found her to be quite companionable and was delighted to include Miss Cynthia in their little téte-a-téte.

  Miss Cynthia told Eugenia and Lady Penelope that her elder sister had married last year. After the wedding, she and her parents left for the Continent, where they came across the musician Franz Mueller. Her mother was so completely transformed by his music and believed his talent was a gift to be shared!

  And that was how he came to be in England.

  “He’s Austrian, very quaint, old-fashioned—and very talented. I believe he plays four or five instruments … perhaps more.” Miss Cynthia glanced about as if some clue were to step forward. “The Prince Regent summoned him by Royal command our first week here.”

  “Really?” Lady Penelope leaned forward with growing interest. “The Prince, you say?”

  “Please allow me to introduce him to you.” Miss Cynthia motioned him to approach. A round-shouldered man in a powered wig neared. “Lady Penelope, Lady Eugenia, may I introduce Herr Mueller.”

  Herr Mueller clicked his heels, and with a curt nod of his powdered-wigged head, acknowledged the two young ladies. “Das pleasure ist entirely mine.”

  It was immediately clear to Eugenia, by Lady Penelope’s unpleasant expression, that her new friend had taken an immediate dislike to this man.

  “Miss Cynthia tells us you recently played for the Prince Regent.” Eugenia ignored her friend’s reaction and hoped it passed Herr Mueller’s notice.

  “Ah, yes, at his Pavilion von evening. His Highness was so generous.” Herr Mueller placed his hand upon his chest. “Und he did me the honor of accompanying me on his cello.”

  “Really?” This news awed Eugenia. “You must be a truly wonderful musician. Miss Cynthia here tells us that you are magnificent!”

  Lady Penelope scoffed, glanced heavenward, and remained unimpressed.

  “She ist too kind,” he replied with a gentle smile. He was humble, almost bashful.

  “He is being modest,” Miss Cynthia returned. “Tell them how you performed throughout most of the Continent.” She turned toward the ladies, anxious that they should know, and told them herself, “And he has played with many of the famous composers and for many of the Crown Heads of Europe.”

  “Please, Fraulein Zinthia.” His downcast gaze, which had never reached their faces, adhered firmly to the floor. “You are being too kind.”

  “Mother insists he treat us with several selections on the harpsichord and violin this very evening,” Miss Cynthia stated quite proudly. “Please, Herr Mueller, you must relay at least one of your stories to my friends.”

  “Your friends?” Herr Mueller glanced up at Lady Penelope, then at Eugenia, and decided to give in to Miss Cynthia’s insistence. He relayed a tale of his travels.

  One had to pay particular attention when conversing with the visitor. His thick German accent made him difficult to understand. It took a great deal of effort for the ones who listened.

  Since Eugenia did not understand a single German word, with the exception of Hessian, she interrupted and reminded him to enunciate and slow his speech furthe
r. She did not wish to miss a single word of his interesting travels.

  Herr Mueller was especially difficult to understand when he decided to pepper his anecdote with native words or phrases. Eugenia stopped him each time and had him translate for them.

  While in the midst of his discourse, Herr Mueller gave Eugenia a most peculiar look.

  “It is impolite for a … gentleman to stare at a lady,” Miss Cynthia enlightened him.

  Eugenia did feel a bit uncomfortable at his lingering gaze but forgave him because she thought he might not know of their customs.

  “Verzeihung, I do not mean to offend.” He nibbled on the end of one of his fingers. “I think perhaps I have zeen you zomewhere before.”

  “I really do not think so,” Eugenia said, certain that she would have remembered someone of his peculiar nature.

  “You see, there.” He pointed across the room. “Und my patroness beckons me now.” He sharply bowed his head to each of them. “Entschuldigung Sie, bitte, you must excuse me. Until later.” He clicked his heels again with a final curt nod and departed.

  “Wasn’t he an odd little man.” Lady Penelope squinted in his direction. “Why does he wear that horrid wig? Doesn’t he know it makes him look positively ancient?”

  “He simply will not part with it.” Miss Cynthia told them. “I think he believes it makes him appear more respectable. Perhaps the illusion of being one of the old masters.”

  “It does not signify. He’s definitely a foreigner, without a doubt,” Lady Penelope uttered in a snobby, entirely unpleasant tone. “And he is not handsome in the least. He is quite unexceptional.”

  “You are being most unfair and very unkind,” Eugenia scolded her, keeping her voice soft.

  “As a matter of fact,” Lady Penelope stated even louder, “the shape of his face, his countenance, and bearing in general, reek of a commoner. What matter is it that he has kept company with royalty? He is nothing but a mushroom.”

  “Please, that is beyond rude!” Eugenia was beginning to feel that she had less in common with Lady Penelope than she’d thought. The sole aspect they shared was that they both were earls’ daughters and that small matter was purely by accident of birth.

  “He doesn’t even have the decency to stand up straight in our presence! Can you imagine?” Lady Penelope continued. “The inelegant slouch!”

  Herr Mueller did not have the statuesque posture of an English nobleman nor did he quite meet their eyes when he spoke. Eugenia thought him a bit shy, she would never think less of him because he was a foreigner.

  With the way Miss Cynthia had gone on about his talent, Eugenia had looked forward to hearing Herr Mueller perform. Even before he sat to play, Aunt Rose alerted Eugenia that she wished to leave.

  Eugenia was sure she did this on purpose.

  Aunt Rose waits until I’m at the ultimate point of my enjoyment during the evening, then up and announces, “Eugenia, dearest, it’s time we be off.”

  She found it most perplexing.

  How had Aunt Rose gotten anywhere in Society when she did not stay through the evening?

  It was just as well. Eugenia decided that if she sat through the musical performance, she might have caught some young man’s interest. That might have proved problematic. After the musical performances he would search out the hostess and beg her for an introduction.

  Eugenia had no doubt he would then court her, try to win her over, but she would not give him any indication of her affections. She would not wish to attach herself to anyone before attending the Little Season. Of course, she would bid him and this sleepy seaside city adieu then depart for London.

  It should be quite tragic. She probably would never see the poor lad again.

  If their paths should cross, she would be quite civil but not overfriendly. He may never be able to give his heart to another for the rest of his life. He might be the first of a long line of shattered hearts she would leave in her wake as she blazed a path into next Season.

  It was just as well Eugenia left the card party early with Aunt Rose.

  The next afternoon, Eugenia and Lady Penelope accompanied Miss Cynthia to the lending library. Miss Cynthia stepped away to return a book at the desk. Eugenia and Lady Penelope stood off to one side, trying to stand out of the way of the passing foot traffic.

  Eugenia distinctly heard her name being uttered ever so softly. She glanced about but saw no one.

  “Look there.” Lady Penelope pointed into a tall bookcase. “Is that not Herr Mueller?”

  To Eugenia’s surprise, there he was peering between neatly stacked books on a shelf.

  “Und Lady Penelope, it ist mein good fortune to see you also!”

  Lady Penelope tried very hard to ignore the hail. She must have imagined that if she did not notice him, he might cease his torment. Concentrating on the shelves before her, she trailed her finger along the book spines, staring with increased intensity, showing that she had not heard him.

  “Come now, Lady Penelope, we cannot be rude,” Eugenia scolded.

  “You may not be able to speak what you truly feel but I assure you I can.” She took a few steps down to the next shelf and resumed her intensive search.

  Eugenia watched a large book disappear from the shelf to the other side and a pair of eyes took its place.

  “Lady Eugenia? Das ist you?” The brows arched and lowered as the speaker, in a heavily accented voice said, “How wunderbar to see you! Bitte, warten Sie.” The tome was quickly replaced and the staccato sound of footfalls told her of his impending approach.

  This must have been where Herr Mueller had seen her previously. With the surrounding people and bookcases she must not have noticed him.

  She resisted, complaining through the entire effort as Eugenia pulled on Lady Penelope’s reticule strings, returning her friend to her side.

  “I do not want to—” Lady Penelope protested through clenched teeth.

  “Und a good day to you as yell, Lady Penelope.” He greeted her with a broad smile and a deep bow.

  “Oh—good afternoon, Herr Mueller,” Eugenia returned, trying to sound cheerful but in actuality she felt ashamed at her friend’s behavior, and a bit nervous that Lady Penelope might say something hurtful.

  “Whatever are you doing here?” Lady Penelope managed to sound civil.

  “Same as you, Fraulein.” He sounded thrilled to have run into them. “Roaming das shelves for enlightenment. Hoping to meet friends who drop by and gossip.”

  “Gossip? Not I,” Lady Penelope gasped.

  To enjoy gossip is one thing. For others to know one enjoyed it was entirely another. Eugenia wished Herr Mueller had not said that to Lady Penelope. Miss Cynthia took this moment to join them, which was of great relief.

  “Guten Tag, Herr Mueller,” she said.

  “Miss Zinthia!” he proclaimed as if she were an undiscovered jewel. He gave a curt nod and clicked his heels, acknowledging her.

  “Well, now that you have finished your business and have successfully found us, I believe it’s time to be off,” Lady Penelope said, giving Eugenia a gentle nudge.

  “Must you? Wirklich? I vas hoping you would share tea vish a humble musician such as myself.” He gave them the most forlorn expression.

  Eugenia had only seen such a look on a dog denied a bone. Miss Cynthia gazed at Lady Penelope then Eugenia, pleading that they accept Herr Mueller’s kind offer.

  They were not in a hurry to leave nor did they have any pressing engagements. Eugenia sent a forlorn glance at Lady Penelope for some compassion. Would she not reconsider just this once?

  Apparently Lady Penelope was quite adept at masking what she genuinely felt she as acquiesced. “Yes, of course. We’d be delighted,” she lied.

  Herr Mueller led the ladies to a table and took a seat with them. It seemed to please him to no end.

  “Please, ve are all such gut friends, you must call me Franz.”

  “Yes, Franz!” Miss Cynthia echoed, very excited. “And you s
hall be Penelope and you, Eugenia!”

  “I really do not think it proper, Herr Mueller,” Lady Penelope lowered her voice and replied in all seriousness. “We, the ladies, perhaps might manage but … you are a … gentleman. I cannot see how it is in any way acceptable to polite Society.”

  He exhaled and appeared deflated at the news. “Perhaps you are correct. I apologize to you.”

  “Oh, Franz….” Cynthia empathized with him then offered to make him feel better. “Please, I insist all of you call me Cynthia.”

  “Well, he is known to you,” Penelope pointed out. “But we have only just met him. I maintain that it cannot be proper for Eugenia nor I to be on such intimate terms.”

  “I understand.” Franz managed to hold his chin high and accept Penelope’s reasoning.

  The ladies stayed for only half an hour before making their excuse that they needed to prepare for that night’s ball. The masquerade ball Eugenia had so been looking forward to was to take place at the Old Ship.

  The three young ladies planned to meet once inside. Franz, who, with a great deal of enthusiasm, could not wait to meet up with the ladies once again, told them he was invited to play at least once during the evening.

  Eugenia and Cynthia cheered with great anticipation.

  It was not beyond Penelope to feign delight at his expected presence.

  Eugenia started her thorough and laborious toilette soon after arriving at Grove House. She was to attend a ball—a masquerade ball! It would be the night of her dreams! She would meet young men and dance until dawn.

  Before entering the Old Ship’s elegant ballroom, Eugenia donned a domino. She felt as if every eye focused upon her anonymous form. She found Cynthia and Penelope shortly after her arrival. No sooner did Eugenia greet her new friends than they were deluged with a dozen admirers.

  “We cannot possibly dance with them all!” Cynthia appeared overwhelmed by the attention and could say nothing when a blond, curly-haired Romeo squired her away.

 

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