“Louisa has a pearl set and a cam – “ Anastasia stopped dead and turned to stare at her brother. He refused to meet her eyes and shifted uncomfortably.
“I — er ... I recollect now, Lady Dunford! They are in my wife’s hands for safe-keeping. I will ... I will have them sent round to you!”
Lady Dunford smiled her vague, amiable smile. “Oh, thank you. The sooner the better, really, don’t you think? I am sure dear Anastasia would love to see them.”
“Oh yes! I would love to have them simply because they were Mama’s! I have so little of hers, and know almost nothing about her, for Papa would never speak of her to me.”
“Poor child! We must have some long talks, and I will tell you all about her,” promised her Aunt, smiling warmly at her.
“Oh, are you going. Sir James? Well, goodbye! And you won’t forget to send that jewellery, will you....?”
The door slammed, and her eyes nearly disappeared into their little fold of fat as her face crinkled into her delightful smile. “Oh dear! Do you think I said something to upset him?”
“Oh, you are my most favourite of Aunts!” cried Anastasia laughing. “I have never seen James so vanquished!”
Lady Dunford smiled placidly. “Do not think to cozen me, Anastasia! I am your only Aunt!”
Chapter Fourteen
Next morning Anastasia was introduced to the heady excitement of shopping in London.
Accompanied by her cousin they drove out, with Lady Dunford’s fixed intention of fitting her out in a manner likely to be as expensive as it was becoming.
Their first call was at an India muslin warehouse in Oxford Street, where the feelings of crushing gratitude that threatened to overcome Anastasia were somewhat dispelled by the lavish way in which her Aunt bought anything that happened to catch her fancy, or that of Georgiana, without so much as inquiring the price.
The staggeringly large pile of dress lengths that was the result of this, in all the delicate hues and patterns of the dyer’s art, were directed to be dispatched immediately to the fashionable modiste patronised by Lady Dunford.
“We will go to Miss Verne’s later, so that she can take your measure and I can tell her which things are to be made up immediately, but first......”
She pulled out a long list from her reticule and perused it earnestly.
Anastasia, increasingly dazzled and bewildered, was ushered from one imposing manufactory to another. Milliners, shoemakers, glovers and silk mercers — each added to the growing pile of parcels in the waiting carriage, or were dispatched direct to Lady Dunford’s house.
“Hmmm. . . .” said Lady Dunford at last, as they sank gratefully onto the seat of the carriage. “Gloves, slippers, sandals, half-boots, reticule. . . . . bonnets — that Victoria straw hat is excessively becoming, Anastasia!”
“Oh Aunt Letty! — I do not know how to thank you enough.... I am sure you should not......”
“Rubbish, my dear child! I am not so poor that I can’t afford to purchase a few fripperies for my only sister’s child! Besides, I am enjoying myself excessively, and I wager Georgiana is too!”
“Yes indeed – and I would not otherwise have found that delightful muslin — you know, the one with the fine red spot – which is just what I was looking for! And you know I will not be seen in company with you, Anastasia, if you are to look a dowd!”
“There, Anastasia! Now, I think that will do for today -we will go now to Miss Verne.”
The modiste, Miss Verne, proved to be a shrewd, thin woman of middle age and discreetly elegant dress, who sprinkled her conversations with stray French words and agreed enthusiastically to every proposal of Lady Dunford.
Anastasia and Georgy were soon busily discussing the latest modes, and the advantages of the new Melon sleeve over the slashed, while Miss Verne measured and pinned about them.
Then it was the turn of Lady Dunford and Georgiana to direct the making-up of their various purchases. But soon all was satisfactorily concluded.
“And you will hurry with the items for Miss Derwent?” enquired Lady Dunford. “She has but just arrived from the country, and will not be fit to be seen till they are come!”
This was not strictly true, since she was attired very creditably in more garments borrowed from Georgiana, but the proprietress bowed and smiled, and assured them of the utmost dispatch.
“And permit me to compliment Miss Derwent on her so-elegant coiffure!” she added. “It is très élégante — London will be enchanted with Mademoiselle!”
Anastasia responded politely to these effusions whilst her mind was a blissful whirl of ball-gowns, walking dresses, pelisses and spencers.
As they stepped into the street they were greeted by a lady about to enter the establishment they had just quitted.
Lady Dunford hailed her with pleasure. “I didn’t know you had come back to Town, Maria. You have not met my niece, Anastasia Derwent, have you? Anastasia, this is Lady Sefton.”
“Derwent?” she questioned, turning to Lady Dunford. “Is she ...?”
“Yes indeed; dear Mary’s daughter! I knew you would see the resemblance.”
“Well, well!” murmured Lady Sefton, smiling amiably at Anastasia, who was a trifle flustered at becoming the focus of attention.
“Mary’s daughter! I was one of your Mama’s oldest friends, my dear, until she married and vanished into the country. . . But tell me, do you make a long stay in London?”
“Yes, my Aunt is so very kind as to ask me to stay with her for the Season.”
“Well in that case we will meet again often, then.” She turned to Lady Dunford. “Has she a voucher for Almack’s?”
“No, for she only yesterday arrived.”
“I will send one round — I am sure she will be wishing to accompany her cousin there. It is always a pleasure to see Georgiana there – she dances so gracefully!”
Georgiana blushed with pleasure, and Lady Dunford looked immensely gratified and thanked her friend for her kindness.
Anastasia added a few stammered words of thanks, and after a further exchange of trivialities, they parted.
“Who is Lady Sefton?” enquired Anastasia as they drove away. “And am I really to go to Almack’s?”
“Lady Sefton is one of the Patronesses of Almack’s – they decide who is, or is not, to be allowed to go there! It is a lucky thing that I have known her from childhood, although your Mama was her particular friend. It is the greatest good fortune that she is to give you vouchers for Almack’s – do but behave yourself modestly, my love, and all will go off excellently!”
“I am sure Ana has had enough of adventures, Mama! The only thing she has now to worry her is Sir Montagu, and even he must behave with caution, for he cannot want it known that Anastasia ran away rather than receive his proposal.”
“I suppose he must be very angry — it will have hurt his pride, rather than his heart, for I don’t believe he has one!”
“It will probably make him all the more determined to win you,” said Lady Dunford. “A little opposition always seems to spur them on!”
“Oh Mama – the things you say!” cried Georgy in mock horror.
“You mark my words – we will have him round to visit us very shortly, as nice as butter!”
Anastasia gave a shudder. “Oh, I hope not!”
“Well, I think you must expect to see him, for I was compelled to agree to Sir James’s wish that he should be allowed to become further acquainted with you. But you need not be more than polite to him,” instructed her Aunt. “No more than common politeness – and that applies to you, too, Georgiana! It would give rise to gossip if there seemed to be a quarrel between Anastasia and Sir Montagu.”
“Yes, Aunt Letty.”
“Yes, Mama. But I don’t know why you do not like him, for whenever I have spoken with him he seemed to be most charming!”
“There are things I have heard about him. . about the company he keeps. . . that I could not repeat for your ears, my dear.
Just accept that, on this occasion, I know best!”
Georgy looked unconvinced, but rightly judged that she would not be able to persuade her Mama to divulge any of the rumours to her.
Lady Dunford continued to instruct her niece: “You must show politeness to Lord Silverfield too, since it is likely that he will become your brother-in-law… No, your…” She puzzled over it. “Your nephew by marriage!” she pronounced at last. “How strange that seems!”
“You mean Ana would become Lord Silverfield’s Aunt?” Georgiana giggled. “That is quite ridiculous!”
Ana giggled too – the idea seemed so preposterous. “Louisa has always refused to call me Aunt, because I was so much younger than she.”
The carriage was picking its way sedately through the bewildering mass of carriages, horses and pedestrians.
“Where do we go now?” asked Georgy. “Not home, surely? Oh! — I know, let us go to the Exeter Exchange!”
“What is that?” enquired Anastasia, puzzled.
“It is the most marvellous bazaar, where you may buy anything at the lowest of prices — and beside that, there is a most diverting menagerie!”
She forgot her tiredness immediately. “Oh, Aunt Letty -do say we may!”
“Yes, Mama, do let us!”
Lady Dunford gave way to their pleading. She was not, in truth, impervious herself to the charms of that fascinating emporium, with its multitude of bargains.
Comforting herself with the reflection that it was unlikely that there would be anyone she knew there at this hour, she had the coachman drive them there.
Chapter Fifteen
Next morning brought the expected but unwelcome visitor.
Anastasia was sitting in the morning-room with her Aunt and cousin when Sir Montagu was announced, and she cast such a look of panic about her that it might be supposed that, had there been another door to the chamber, she would have incontinently fled the room.
Georgiana, sitting beside her on a gilded sofa, gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.
He entered in his usual urbane manner, apparently unabashed at having been the cause of Anastasia’s flight, and his greetings were all that was elegant and polite.
But the look in his hot brown eyes when he beheld Anastasia, her beauty enhanced by a pretty gown with a ruff made up high to the throat, caused her to feel both discomforted and nervous.
“I have come to assure myself that Miss Derwent is none the worse for her journey — but I see that she is not; indeed, she is blooming!”
“My niece took no hurt from her rash impulse,” said Lady Dunford composedly, “But we have agreed to speak of it no more.”
“Indeed? Then you may believe that I will not mention it to a soul.”
“You are too good, Sir!” said Anastasia.
Something in her tone at variance with the polite phrase seemed to strike him, but after a glance at her down-bent head he resumed: “I am only too sorry that it was my coming that prompted it! I fear your brother may have over-emphasised my natural wish to become better acquainted with you.”
They looked at him in various degrees of surprise. To carry off the situation so well must provoke a certain admiration, and Lady Dunford said in slightly warmer tones than before: “Well, we will say no more on that head. My niece is to make her debut, you know, so you will have many opportunities to become better acquainted with her.”
“And with your charming daughter,” smiled Sir Montagu.
Georgiana acknowledged the compliment with a smile, and seemed very ready to converse with him and to be entertained.
Lady Dunford contributed a number of vaguely amiable statements upon whatever topic was passing through her head at that moment: the weather, the latest on dit, a balloon ascent, and the annoying fact of the servants having forgotten to bees’-wax the chair legs in the dining-room as she had instructed.
Anastasia said little, declining all attempts by Sir Montagu to draw her into the conversation. She wondered at Georgiana’s seeming to feel no repugnance for the man, but could not help but smile when, unobserved by him, Georgy gave her a saucy look.
Baffled by Anastasia’s cold politeness, he eventually directly requested that he be permitted to take her driving in the Park, to which she replied with composure that she had not yet been long enough in Town to be sure yet of what her plans were: but she was sure that they must meet at Almack’s next week.
Thwarted, but still urbanely polite, he took his leave of the ladies at the end of half-an-hour. In the hall he encountered a tall, dark figure.
“Lord Silverfield! Bent on a similar errand to mine, I must suppose — to ask after the fair truant?” he said in a low voice so that Copes, hovering in the hall with his hat and cane, could not overhear.
His Lordship lifted an arrogant dark brow. “Ah, it is you, Sir Montagu! Faint but pursuing, I see.”
Sir Montagu’s face darkened ominously. “What the devil do you mean?”
“Why, only that the fair Miss Derwent seems to have an unfortunate preference for another of her suitors, making your attendance, I would have thought, a trifle redundant!”
“I suppose you mean that young puppy, Carstares? Well, there is nothing to that – Sir James explained to me how it was; it seems they have been in one another’s pockets since they were in the cradle, like brother and sister.”
“Oh, is that how it is? I stand corrected!” And smiling amiably at the ruffled and belligerent suitor he passed on up the stairs.
On entering the room he was surprised to receive a warm smile from Anastasia. His face softened into an answering smile, then suddenly vanished as he remembered what cause he had to mistrust her.
Instead of going directly to her side, as his first impulse had been, he turned aside politely to greet his hostess, and to enquire into her health — always a popular topic.
Lady Dunford had seen nothing of this brief exchange, but Georgiana cast them both a swift, considering look.
“... and I am to have a little port wine as a tonic, dear Sir Henry says,” concluded Lady Dunford.
His attention had strayed back to Anastasia. If he had thought her a pretty girl before, she was striking indeed now that her hair was properly cut and she was becomingly dressed.
He recollected himself with a start and attended to what Lady Dunford was saying.
“Well, my niece has come to no harm, as you can see.”
“No, indeed — London appears to suit her. And I have come with news which I know must please her.”
Anastasia, who, after that so-quickly-extinguished smile, had been studiously staring at the carpet, now looked up at him curiously.
“I have just seen your friend, Mr Carstares, who informed me that he has hired a house for the season, and is forthwith returning home to escort his Mama here.”
Anastasia flushed angrily at his sardonic inflection. “I am sure it is nothing to me if he is come to London or not!” she exclaimed, and then flushed even more angrily at the gaucherie her temper had betrayed her into.
He smiled blandly. “No? But I had thought him such an old friend of yours that I was certain you would be pleased at the news.”
“I am sure we shall be very glad to see Mr Carstares,” said Lady Dunford. “It is never a wise or good scheme, Anastasia, to drop old country friends for the sake of the new ones one has made in Town.”
“Oh no. Aunt!” she cried, distressed. “I never meant to. . . It is just that. . .” She foundered under Lord Silverfield’s sarcastic smile.
Georgiana endeavoured to give the conversation a new turn. “We are to go to Almack’s next week – it is Anastasia’s first public engagement, so we are looking forward to it immensely!”
She smiled at him quizzically and added: “But I don’t suppose we will see you there! Almack’s must be too flat for you.”
“On the contrary. I have not often gone there in the past, it is true, but now I see what inducements it has to offer me you may expect to see me there more fr
equently!” His bow included both girls in the compliment.
Anastasia pretended to misunderstand him. “You must mean Louisa — and she will certainly be there, for my Aunt has been so kind as to obtain vouchers for her and to invite her to accompany us.”
His smile vanished and was replaced by a thunderous scowl.
“Anastasia!” exclaimed Lady Dunford.
But she continued angrily, her one desire to hurt him: “The rumour is all about Town that you are to marry her, you know – when are we to wish you happy?”
Lord Silverfield had recovered his equanimity. “You should not listen to rumours — they are not always accurate.”
“I do not – nor should you!” she said, her poise shaken.
“I don’t, I judge on the evidence of my eyes.”
He beheld, in amusement, Lady Dunford’s air of bafflement, and Georgiana’s patent curiosity, and with the greatest savoir faire made his adieux.
As he left the room Lady Dunford was saying, remonstrance in her usually amiable tones: “Anastasia, I don’t think that you should......”
He closed the door quietly behind him.
* * * *
During the course of the day he found that Anastasia’s face had a disconcerting habit of appearing in his mind’s eye.
He was engaged that evening with a party of friends and did his best to eradicate such visions with liberal potations of blue ruin, finally staggering home in the early hours of the morning with the insecure assistance of two similarly inebriated friends.
He beguiled the journey home by explaining in careful, if slurred, detail just why it was that he hated all women, and damned the institution of marriage.
Having escorted him to the door of his house and declined a pressing invitation to enter, they set out on the wavering path to their own lodgings, which were luckily situated in the same direction.
Arthur Cole showed a tendency to song, but broke off to demand of his friend: “Do you know what I think?”
The Other Miss Derwent Page 10