Georgiana was disconcerted. “Well – well perhaps that was not altogether romantic! But he is very handsome, you must admit. He is a great flirt – I know of several girls who have set their caps at him, and some who have almost died with love for him! They say,” her voice sank to a whisper, “That he is a rake!”
“You do not surprise me! I am sure he is of a sadly unsteady character, for he does not seem to mind what people think of him in the least.”
She was by now attired in the spotted muslin dress and thanked her cousin for the loan of it. “And Soper has altered it to fit me admirably.”
“Yes, it suits you. I daresay we will be going out to order some new clothes for you, once your family has arrived. Mama thinks you ought not to be seen about until they do, so that it appears that you came with them.”
“Lord Silverfield said that they were to set out today.... but I don’t suppose that James will come here until tomorrow, for he does not travel at all well! Oh, I do hope that Aunt Letty can persuade him to let me stay here, and not be sent home in disgrace!”
“I don’t see why he should not. He seems to be eager to get you married and off his hands, and what better place for that than London? Besides, not only will it cost him nothing, but he will not have to see you shining down that fubsy-faced daughter of his all the time!”
Anastasia laughed. “But Louisa is quite pretty really – it is unfair to call her fubsy-faced! Though her sour expression does spoil her.”
“She had best sweeten it if she wants to catch a husband!”
“Oh – Georgiana! Are you, too, on the catch for a husband?”
“Do call me Georgy. Everyone does.”
“Then you may call me Ana.”
“Ana, then. Does not every girl wish to find a husband? I am sure I do! – but not just yet, for I am enjoying myself extremely, and just think, one mistake and I might find myself married to the sort of man who would carry me off to the country for nine months out often!”
Anastasia laughed. “I see what you mean! But you cannot be in love if you think that!”
“Oh, I have fancied myself in love several times, but usually with soldiers! I think it is the uniform – the most commonplace man seems to become attractive once he is in regimentals. Are you in love with anyone, Ana?”
“Not I. I am sorry to be so disappointing, but I have had no one to fall in love with.”
“What about this Mr Carstares you mentioned? It is certainly very romantic to be meeting handsome young men secretly in gardens by moonlight!”
“I fear you are an incurable romantic, cousin! Robin and I have been friends since we were infants in arms, and I simply can’t feel towards him in any other way than as a sister or friend. Other than that, there is only Sir Montagu, whom I loathed on sight!”
“And Lord Silverfield,” pointed out Georgy.
“Yes, but he came to see Louisa. In any case, he may be very handsome — I admit it! — but I cannot like him!”
Georgiana’s dark eyes gleamed with laughter. “I hope you are not going to take against all young men, or we will be hard put to it to suit you! Poor Mama!”
“I don’t suppose I will have any other suitors, and perhaps Sir Montagu will still want to marry me.”
“Do not look so gloomy! Just leave it all to Mama. She said that you would be very taking once she had taken you in hand and rigged you out fashionably, and she wagered that she could find a better match than Sir Montagu!”
“She is so kind – I don’t know how to thank her!”
“You need not, for she is in high gig about it! There is nothing Mama likes better than match-making, and you are doing me a great service by distracting her attention. I do not wish to find myself fettered by marriage too soon!”
“You are refreshingly honest, Georgy! I have dreamt of coming to London for so long. . . .but I never thought that I would be allowed to! As to marriage. . . . well, I suppose that I will want to be married one day, but to marry just to get away from home would be to jump from the frying pan into the fire! If I marry, I want it to be for love!”
“I hope it may be – and who is being romantic now? But not a word of this to Mama, mind! She sees men in terms of wealth and rank, rather than youth and good looks. It is best just to agree with all she says, and to be as cold as you know how to be to whatever awful but eligible men she produces! But they are not all awful.”
“So I should hope! Oh Georgy, I am sure it is all going to be such fun! It is all so very new to me – you will have to show me how to go on.”
“Oh you will soon be up to snuff!” reassured Georgiana.
Lady Dunford sent to request their immediate attendance in her dressing-room, where they discovered her to have summoned her hairdresser to make what reparations to Anastasia’s hair that he could.
“There, Monsieur Anton! Whatever shall we do? It is so short!”
M. Anton, small, dark and excessively Gallic, leapt about Anastasia glaring fiercely at her from under bushy black brows.
“Mon Dieu! Was this then done with the shears of the sheep? Incroyable! A disaster!”
Anastasia hung her head, abashed.
“I think that it suits her,” said Georgiana, staunchly.
In this she was surprisingly seconded by M. Anton.
“Now, no! — catastrophe! But with the help of an artiste such as myself – yes! It is not in the mode, but it is original – it can be given elegance. Sit!”
Ushering her firmly into a chair he set about her head with a large pair of scissors. There was such a clashing of blades and muttering of Gallic imprecations that she feared for the little man’s sanity, but since both Georgiana and her Mama seemed unmoved – indeed, unsurprised – she assumed that they must know his capabilities and gritted her teeth.
Only once did she flinch, when he inadvertently touched the bruise on her head.
“Mademoiselle has hurt her head?”
“It is nothing,” said Lady Dunford quickly. “My niece had a fall from her horse.”
He snipped more cautiously. “There, that is done!” He whipped away the cloth from her shoulders and held the mirror for her to see.
She stared in amazement at the new Anastasia revealed there. The feathery curls that clustered round her pointed face made her large green eyes, set with a suspicion of a slant, seem even larger and more luminous.
“You like?” questioned the little hairdresser anxiously. “It is excellent, yes?”
“Oh yes, I do! It is!” she said, finding her tongue. Then she turned to show Lady Dunford.
She scrutinised her carefully, and then smiled in approval. “It will do very well!”
“Oh Ana, I think it is marvellous! Mama, do you think that I...?”
“No I do not, Georgiana! For one thing, it would not suit you in the least, and for another, poor Anastasia had to have her hair cut off because of the fever. You do not!”
Both girls gazed at her blankly. “Oh yes....” said Anastasia at last. “The fever!”
“A misfortune!” cried M. Anton. “But I,” he pointed to his skinny chest proudly, “I, Anton, have turned misfortune into miracle!”
Anastasia and Georgiana exchanged glances and struggled to keep from giggling.
“Well, well!” said Lady Dunford indulgently as the door closed behind him, and both girls went into paroxysms of mirth, “I am at least thankful that you did not laugh in the poor man’s face!”
“Oh, I would not hurt his feelings for the world,” said Anastasia.
“Nor I, though I don’t think he would have noticed if we had,” said Georgy. “Nothing could dent his self-esteem.”
“Well, I am profoundly grateful to him. At least I no longer look like a freak!”
“My dear Anastasia!” said Lady Dunford, shocked, “There are no freaks in our family! No Winton – for I count you one, my dear — could ever be so described.”
Both girls promptly went off into the giggles again, and she smiled at them.
“Now what is it?”
“Nothing Mama! I am so glad my cousin is not a freak! You have relieved my mind extremely!”
“Well, you are a pair of children still!” she said indulgently. “But when you are older you will realise that some strange things do crop up, in even the best of families! Only take the Warboys, for instance,... .”
Whatever interesting snippet of information she was about to let fall to the detriment of the Warboys family was destined to remain secret, for at that moment the arrival of Sir James Derwent was announced.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Anastasia. “They must have left at the crack of dawn to be here so early!”
“The sooner the better,” said Lady Dunford, levering herself out of a comfortable chair and gathering her fine Norwich shawl about her plump shoulders.
“I will go and speak to him, and then I will send for you later, Anastasia.” She bustled out of the room.
“Oh dear!” said Anastasia, pressing her hands to her cheeks, “I think my fate is hanging in the balance – and James will be too angry to listen to reason!”
“Put your trust in Mama,” said Georgy stoutly. “She may appear to be easy-going and vague, but I have never yet known her not to have her way when she is set on something!”
Chapter Thirteen
Lady Dunford did indeed carry the day in the teeth of Sir James’s opposition.
Once she had given him her most scathing opinion of Sir Montagu Morley’s morals and character, and reiterated several times her opinion that she would very soon find a much more eligible husband for her niece, and this at her own expense, he began to like the idea, and to become more resigned to the prospect of losing his reward for his good offices on Sir Montagu’s behalf.
After all, he consoled himself, when Lord Silverfield married Louisa he, Sir James, stood to gain a substantial sum under Cosmo Vernon’s will.
Lady Dunford broke in upon his cogitations with uncanny prescience. “So that rumour about Lord Silverfield’s having to marry to his Uncle’s bidding is true — and to Louisa, at that! A fine thing for her if she can catch him!”
He bridled. “There is no question of ‘catching’ him, ma’am! Why, he would lose a vast sum of money if he did not marry her within the twelve-month!”
“If he has twelve months in which to consider it, I rather think he will go to the devil rather faster than he has been doing to date, after which he may, or may not, marry your daughter!” said Lady Dunford shrewdly.
He laughed uneasily. “As to his racketing about town — well, he is a wild young blood, I admit, but he will settle down once he is married to my Louisa! But I mean to keep my eye on him!”
“And also, I suppose, to cast your daughter into his path at every opportunity.”
“My wife thinks that he may very well take a fancy to her if he sees her often enough.”
“I must suppose that he has seen her, since she has been on the town upwards of three years!”
He flushed angrily. “We naturally did not want to rush at the first man who offered for her – though she has had several very eligible offers!”
In fact, the only offers he had received for her hand had been from a penniless army captain in her first season, who had been dismissed with the contempt he deserved for his presumption, and two others from rather penurious young men with an eye on the money-bags, before it became common gossip that Sir James’s pockets were to let.
“Hmmm,” said Lady Dunford dubiously. “If I were you I would not encourage her to make herself conspicuous by seeming to hang on Lord Silverfield’s sleeve, for if he does not come up to scratch after all, she will look a fool. There is gossip enough about the matter already, though how the rumour got about I do not know.”
“I think I know my own affairs best,” he said stiffly. “And as to that baggage Anastasia, I leave her in your charge gladly – I only hope you may not be sorry for it! My father spoilt her – gave her too much freedom, and though my wife took her in hand after his death I believe her character to have been already ruined.”
“Nonsense!” said Lady Dunford. “Anastasia is a sweet child — she makes me think of what my poor sister was at her age!”
“And what of Sir Montagu? What shall I tell Sir Montagu?” he demanded querulously.
“Oh, tell him what you please! I suppose I must receive him if he calls, but I will not have him driving out alone with her, or any such particularity, for I tell you to your head that she is too good for the likes of him!”
“Why, what do you mean? He is quite an old friend of mine – a regular good fellow!”
“I know where one makes such friendships, and look what a pretty pass it has brought your affairs to!” she said scathingly.
“I did not come here to be lectured on my private affairs -it is nothing to do with you, after all!”
She gazed at him calmly, and changed the subject. “You have not asked me how Anastasia got here – only if she was here.”
“Why, she came on the stage! And my wife seems to think she was wearing Endymion’s clothes, too! Disgraceful behaviour – I only hope we can keep the matter a secret, for it could ruin her.”
“You must make your friend. Sir Montagu, hold his tongue. I understand from my niece that she places the greatest reliance on Mr Carstares to keep silent on the subject, so that leaves only Lord Silverfield: And he, I seem to remember, informed me last night that he would not divulge it – though my wits were reeling so with the shock of seeing my niece, and in such garb!”
“Lord Silverfield was here last night? With Anastasia?” His face went turkey-cock red.
“He rescued her from footpads on the outskirts of London, and brought her straight here to me. You should be grateful to him – it is entirely due to him that your sister got no worse than a bruise on the head!”
“He has a habit of appearing when one least expects him!”
“You would hardly have preferred your sister to remain unconscious or dead upon the road? It is providential that he did chance to drive by just then! But you may — even though you have not requested it — see her for yourself to ensure that she came to no lasting hurt.”
She sent for Anastasia, and a few moments later she entered the room looking pale and apprehensive.
Although Sir James was her half-brother, his age – old enough to be her father — and the infrequency with which she had seen him before the demise of their father, had set her rather in awe of him, and combined with his spasmodic rages and obvious dislike of her to make her wary of him.
But she managed to meet him now with a fair assumption of composure, in the plump and comforting presence of her Aunt.
He stared at her in speechless astonishment as she greeted him. Her whole appearance was a far remove from the school-girlish guise he was used to.
“Your hair!” he said accusingly at last, “You have cut it! I don’t know what sort of figure you present, rigged out in that fashion. And where had you that dress? I gave you no money to waste on such fripperies!”
“I think her hair vastly becoming,” said Lady Dunford. “I daresay it will become all the rage!”
He snorted derisively.
“And the dress is one of my daughter’s. You remember Georgiana? It is lucky that they are much of a size, for Anastasia’s valise was stolen. I suppose you did not think to bring her luggage with you?”
“Bring her luggage?” he shouted, his face turning puce. “When I had no knowing that she had come to you, and I intended, in any case to pack her straight back to Derwent Place!”
“No matter – I daresay it was highly unsuitable anyway,” said Lady Dunford placidly.
“I am very sorry that I did not think to leave a note, James,” said Anastasia contritely, “But I was in a hurry.”
“Sorry! Aye, sorry!” He glowered at her in frustration, good sense warring with a strong desire to box her ears and pack her off to the country again. But if Lady Dunford took her up, she could not altogether ig
nore Louisa. . . and Lady Dunford moved in circles much more select than he could aspire to.
His wife, for all her grand ways, had been no more than the daughter of a country cleric, and he himself careless of making himself pleasant among those likely to help in the advancement of his daughter.
“Well,” he said slowly, at last. “You do not deserve it, Anastasia, but Lady Dunford has kindly offered to keep you here with her for the Season, and I have agreed.”
“Oh thank you, James!”
“Mind, I hope you make the most of your opportunity, for I can’t afford to give you London Seasons, and it’s straight back to Derwent Place with you if nothing comes of it!”
She dropped her eyes and flushed, and Lady Dunford frowned. “Anastasia is here to enjoy herself, and to be company for Georgiana. I mean to make a stir this season, I can tell you, and I think I will hold a ball once the town is a little less thin of company.”
She added, with great condescension: “I will send Louisa an invitation, you may be sure.”
He bit his lip and remained silent.
“Oh – by the way, there is something I meant to ask you . . . Now what could it have been?” she asked herself with amiable vagueness.
“Ah! I have it. I was thinking this morning that Anastasia is now old enough to have the jewellery my sister left to her. They will be just the thing.”
His eyes bulged ominously. “Jewellery? What jewellery?”
She gave him a direct look. “The personal jewellery of my sister, which she left to her daughter. I was there at the reading of the will, if you remember.”
Anastasia looked at her in startled surprise. “Oh! I didn’t know Mama had left me anything!”
“You were a babe-in-arms of course, my dear, and I daresay no-one has thought to tell you about it since.”
Sir James still said nothing, but scowled blackly.
“Let me see.....” continued Lady Dunford. “There was a cameo, very fine, and the pearl set – now that would become you admirably, Anastasia. There is nothing better than pearls for a girl making her debut. Oh, and there were the diamond earrings – small stones, but very good — and ...”
The Other Miss Derwent Page 9