by Joan Vincent
“Why thank you, sir. That compliment, at least, is sincere.”
“But Mother says you have to be given approval or permission . . . something, before you can waltz at Almack’s.” Helene still frowned.
“Such a minor thing will pose no problem,” Audacia told her with a laugh.
“Methinks I tarry here too long.” The squire arched an eyebrow at the older of the two schemers. “I came only to inquire if you ladies would care to go for a drive in the park this Sunday.”
“Oh, Audee, could we?” Helene implored.
“I shall have to ask Lady Darby’s permission, but I do not think she shall refuse. Call upon us in any happenstance,” she told him, her eyes twinkling and her colour heightened from the exertion of the dance.
Geoffrey took leave of Helene and then held Audacia’s hand. Bowing formally, he kissed it lightly. “Lord Greydon is correct—you are most beautiful.”
Before she could recover enough to reply, he strode from the room and was gone.
* * * *
“Do not hurry so,” Miss Bea admonished Helene and Audacia as their steps drew them farther and farther from her. “It is most unladylike. Moderation!” She sighed heavily and hurried after the two.
“Go ahead, Helene. I shall wait for Miss Bea,” Audacia instructed the young girl, looking back at the abigail. “But not too far ahead, now.”
“You should not let Miss Darby scamper about,” Miss Strowne scolded when she reached Audacia. “It simply isn’t proper for a young lady to do so.”
“This is the only exercise we have” the other protested. “What harm can be done as long as we can see her?”
“None, I suppose,” the abigail answered tiredly.
“Let us rest for a few moments on that bench there.” Audacia pointed to one of many in this area of St. James Park.
“Helene,” she called loudly, “stay nearby.”
“Miss Audacia, pleeeeease,” Miss Bea protested, her cheeks aflame as others in the park stared at them.”
“Would you rather we lose sight of Helene? But come, I do not mean to try you. You look so fatigued.” Both women sat and Audacia studied Miss Bea closely. “Are you not feeling well? You look exhausted.”
Colour surged to the abigail’s face. “I—I have not slept well of late. The noise of the city, perhaps. Also I have been . . . troubled by . . . dreams. Oh, nothing dreadful. It is only that I worry about Bal . . . about Sir Aderly—being alone and all.”
“Father has written speaking highly of Mrs. Stoddard. She cannot be doing as well as you but I’m certain her work is adequate.” Audacia laid her hand on the other’s. “I do wish you would not be too unhappy while we are here.”
Miss Bea forced a smile. “Of course, I am not unhappy. Only wiser perhaps. One learns so much when one leaves her . . . home behind.”
What strange words, Audacia thought. She was distracted as Helene dashed up to the bench and pointed to the street.
“Isn’t that the gentleman who danced with you first on the night of our soiree? The one who was with Squire Webster?” she asked.
With her hand shading her eyes from the afternoon sun, Audacia rose and peered more closely at the nearing landau. “Yes, I believe it is,” she answered. “That is Lord Greydon, but I do not think that is his sister with him. Never mind, he is no concern of ours.”
Miss Bea joined the two. “Hrrummph, that is no lady with his lordship,” she scoffed. “That’s a—well, never mind. It is time we return. Lady Darby will wonder what has kept us.”
“Look at her hair, Audee,” Helene commented, refusing to be drawn away. “It is like those fashion plates we saw in the Lady’s Magazine.” She touched the locks that had strayed from her bonnet. “I wonder what I would look like in such a style?”
“That is enough, young lady,” Miss Bea exclaimed. She grabbed Helene’s hand and pulled her along. Visions of shorn locks paraded before her as she thought of both her charges’ daring nature frowned when she saw that the woman with Greydon flirt outrageously with him, and his apparent enjoyment. Just as she was about to turn and follow Miss Bea, Roland’s gaze swept over the park. His look caught hers and for a fleeting second the world stood still for them. Then Greydon tipped his hat and the landau was gone.
“Ohhh.” Audacia stamped her foot, angry at being caught staring. She ran to catch up with the other two.
On a side path, quite close, a hackney cab halted. After giving his companion a lingering kiss, the young man stepped out and motioned for the driver to move on. Rouged l
With a regretful shrug, the young man cast about and located his quarry. “Miss Aderly! Miss Aderly, please wait,” Patrick Darby called out, and strode briskly towards the retreating figures.
“Why, it is Patrick,” Helene exclaimed as the three halted. “Why would he come to the park? He hates fresh air.”
“He wished to spend some time with you,” Audacia told her hoping it was true.
“How kind of you to join us,” she smiled. “I know how busy you must be and think it wonderful,” Audacia continued and brightened her smile, “for you to take time to walk with Helene. Miss Strowne and I will stroll ahead of you,” she ended, taking Miss Bea’s arm and leading her forward.
Darby glared at Audacia’s back, wondered how he had been outmanoeuvred. Ungraciously he offered his arm to Helene and followed the fast-paced pair ahead of them. One would think she dislikes me.
Glancing back just then, Audacia flashed a bright, approving smile at him.
Confidence resurged. It is only that she thinks I care for Helene, Darby assured himself. Why should she not think I am the perfect brother. He straightened.
It is the only conclusion, he decided and turned his charms upon his sister, keeping his voice sufficiently loud to carry to the ladies ahead.
Chapter 14
The late afternoon sun broke free of the clouds and filtered through the haze hanging over London. Its bright rays cast a shower of colour over the young pair walking slowly back to Mount Street.
“Look, a shower of hundreds of rainbows,” Audacia exclaimed to her brother as they paused at the corner of Berkeley Square.
“It is fortunate that it is only the sun’s rays, not rain that causes them,” Daniel told her. He motioned to her thin sprigged-muslin gown. “Does Father know you go about clad in such costumes? I thought Lady Darby was to select your gowns.”
“Why, Daniel, you sound like a stuffy old man,” Audacia accused. “Everyone is wearing this style. I have not seen you frown upon any of the ladies we passed this day who were dressed as I.”
“But they are not my sister. Oh, Audee, you know what I mean.”
“You are being unbelievably priggish, Daniel. What has come over you? I can’t believe Mr. Darby’s company would have this effect on you. What is it you do when you go about with him?” Audacia asked with more than light interest.
A blush rose across Daniel’s cheeks. Tugging, at his cravat, he sought an adequate but slightly inaccurate reply. “We merely see the sights of London,” he said with a shrug.
“Don’t think you can fob me off with the likes of that. St. Paul’s Cathedral is not likely to be on the list of Mr. Darby’s most interesting attractions, nor Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. If such places were, then Helene and I could go with you. What establishments do you frequent?”
“Some of the clubs. Boodle’s, White’s—”
“Isn’t Boodle’s notorious for its gambling? Daniel, you aren’t!” Audacia stared at him speechless.
“Everyone does it. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself? Zeus only knows when I shall be permitted to come to London again.”
“Has Mr. Darby taken you to Waitier’s . . . to other gaming hells?”
“That is none of your affair.”
“But Daniel, your allowance is very meagre. How can you afford it?”
“My misfortune has not been great. Indeed I have come off rather well, Audee. Honestly, it is only a few small ventures.
I have not and do not intend to wager high stakes. Do you take me for a green lad?” Daniel tried to reassure her.
Relief eased Audacia’s fears but she was still uneasy about the matter. Why would Darby be taking Daniel to such places? Surely he realized their fortunes were not large?
“Let us speak of you,” Daniel interrupted her thoughts. “Do you have a tendre for Patrick?”
Audacia gave a hoot of laughter but sobered when she saw her brother’s grave expression. “You are serious, are you not?”
“Lady Darby and Patrick seem to think you will be announcing your betrothal at any time,” Daniel told her.
Audacia bit her lip in frustration at his exaggeration but wondered if they were obvious to everyone. “What would prompt the pompous Mr. Darby to consider one as lowly as I?” she asked sarcastically.
“Darby’s not pompous. He’s a jolly good sort,” Daniel disagreed. “I think he cares for you.”
“Cares for me? Little do you know the man. He cares for nothing other than his pleasure,” Audacia returned curtly.
“You have only known him a short time. It is not like you to be so harsh. Look at how he has gone out of his way to help me and to make your stay here more pleasant.”
“The Darby’s have done much, I know. That is why I have done no more than try to avoid Patrick. It is so awkward. There is just this feeling I have that they are plotting.” She hesitated. Daniel’s look of disbelief halted her.
“You are being missish now, like all women,” he scoffed. Not heeding the warning in his sister’s look, he continued, “Women simply must lean on men, be guided by us.”
“Daniel,” she threatened as they halted before the Darby’s residence.
“After all how can you know what is best for yourself,” he went on condescendingly. HE halted when he saw Audacia’s glare.
“If you know what is best for you, I suggest you go elsewhere,” she said cryptically as he backed out of her reach.
“Put that umbrella down, Audee. It wouldn’t be at all ladylike. Audee, Lady Darby will see . . .” Daniel left off and hurried away.
“Men,” Audacia said disgustedly, watching her brother’s back. I do wish Father were here, she thought.
Perhaps Geoffrey could speak to Daniel. I must find a way to inform Mr. Darby that I heartily disapprove of his taking Daniel to such places.
Audacia hurried inside. It was near the hour to begin dressing for the evening at Almack’s.
* * * *
“Patrick is so thoughtful,” Lady Darby said for the tenth time as the coach journeyed towards King’s Street and Almack’s. “What lovely flowers.”
The pink-white of the wild pear blossoms against the waxed sheen of their green leaves was the perfect complement for Audacia’s gown of true green. Neither too vivid nor too pale, the soft shade of the gown highlighted her healthy glow and raven hair. A deep green satin ribbon gathered the gown slightly beneath her breasts, letting it drape in soft folds that barely concealed her willowy form. A matching ribbon held a simple ivory cameo against her slender neck. Miss Bea had arranged additional wild pear blossoms throughout her coiffure. Her appearance captured the freshness and delicateness of the awakening earth, the look and feel of joyful spring.
The viscountess words passed unheeded; an inner sense told Audacia that Patrick was not the one who had conceived the effect of the blossoms. But who? Someone who knew her wardrobe in detail—knew which gown she would choose. Lady Darby? Audacia mentally shook her head; the viscountess was sincere in her belief that her son was responsible.
Lord Darby then? She turned her head to study the nodding shadow of the viscount in the coach’s inner gloom. Compassion for him flared. He was far too busy surviving the rigors of his family to think of me, Audacia concluded.
“Remember,” Lady Darby jabbed Audacia’s arm, ”you are not to waltz until you have been given approval. Consequences will be terribly dire if you would. Also, Patrick has promised to come to Almack’s and to bring Daniel. It would only be proper for you to save your first waltz for my dear son,” she twittered gaily. “You simply cannot know how fortunate you are.”
In the dim light of the coach, Audacia raised a sceptical eyebrow. She longed for a way to end this constant intimation of an intimacy between Darby and herself. Conversation with Daniel had strengthened her dislike of Patrick and raised further suspicions about his character. She longed for her father’s presence.
I will not let them ruin my season, she told herself, as her mind jumped to the scheme planned for Geoffrey this eve.
It was daring, she admitted, for the ton could decide the idea “indelicate” and turn up their noses at such audacity on the part of so unimportant a miss. It matters not, she resolved, for it is only a first step. With the confidence Geoffrey gathers from this it should be simple to encourage him to take a wife. This eve I shall watch closely to see what kind of miss interests him and then we shall—
“Here we are,” Lady Darby’s excited voice intruded. “Remain calm, Audacia. The first impression is the most important. Keep your composure at all times.”
It was with great restraint that Audacia held in check the face she wished to make at the footman who barred their entrance.
“But Lady Mandel assured us that there would be no problem,” Lady Darby insisted.
After much whispering a page was sent off while the Darby party waited impatiently. After a brief time a tallish, haughty woman glanced their way, then fluttered her hand. Immediately the footman stepped aside.
“That was the Countess Lieven,” the viscountess whispered to Audacia as they entered the main room.
The time was well after nine and already a large group had gathered, for no one was permitted entry after eleven. Lord Darby excused himself at once and made for one of the many card rooms arranged about the outer edges of the ballroom. Lady Darby paused when confronted by the coldly indifferent stares from the dowagers who had noticed them dismissed her and Audacia. She led Audacia towards the still unfilled seats at one side where she had noticed a few ladies who had attended her soiree.
“Why, Lady Darby. I had no idea you would come to Almack’s,” a large woman in a bright red turban said. Her inflection made it clear that it was a great surprise that she had been allowed entry.
Disliking her snobbish tone and look, Audacia eyed her. “But if the door is large enough for—”
“It is very pleasant to return here,” Lady Darby cut her off abruptly. “You are looking very well, Lady Firbaine. Your turban is so attractive,” she gushed, hoping to draw the woman’s attention from Audacia. “Please excuse us, my lady. I see Lady Mandel has arrived and I must thank her for her kindness to my guest.” With a falsely bright smile she turned, taking Audacia’s hand to make certain she followed.
“Never again say the first words that come to you,” the viscountess hissed as they walked. “You could have ruined it all.”
“But she was insulting—”
“The entire world insults everyone and everything. Learn to ignore such remarks. I shall not have all my plans ruined by your careless words.”
Her tone was low, but the angry threatening sparks in her eyes startled Audacia.
“Oh, Lady Mandel. What a great pleasure to see you once again.”
Stung by the reprimand and questioning just what plans would have been done away with by her behaviour, Audacia stood quietly aside as the two older women exchanged trivialities.
Taking this for shyness, Lady Lucille attempted to make Audacia more comfortable. “Why do we not have some lemonade and find seats,” she offered with a smile.
Grateful to be removed from staring eyes, Audacia nodded.
“Squire Webster has mentioned you are fond of animals,” Lady Lucille continued as they walked. “I recommend you do not attempt to see the menagerie they have at the Tower. The poor animals’ treatment should be an embarrassment to all.”
“I wish I had not seen them. It is so cruel. Half the bea
sts are sick and need far more care than was evidenced,” Audacia replied. Her ire rose at the thought of the mange-ridden lions. “If only there was something that could be done.”
“Attempts have been made, without success. Perhaps it is time I speak to father again.”
“Please do,” Audacia urged, taking a new assessment of Lord Greydon’s sister. “I am so relieved you are not like your brother,” she said, forgetting to think before speaking.
“But I thought you had not met my brother before the soiree.”
“Of course I had not,” Audacia stumbled. Her cheeks flamed red. “It is his—his looks. They give him a grim appearance while you are so . . . gentle.”
“The war, I think, has done that to Roland. When he first returned after Waterloo we were fearful for him. He was so silent, almost disconsolate. But then the war changed many.” A deep sadness swept over Lady Lucille.
“So many lost. So much altered,” she said lowly. “It is as if Roland broods over—” Catching herself, she paused. “But these matters mean nothing to you” Lady Lucille said hurriedly. “Let us speak of your animals.”
A firm voice intruded into the young women’s lively chatter a few moments later. “What is of such consuming interest?”
“It would be of little concern to you, Roland,” Lady Lucille laughed, looking up at the tall figure before them. “I had thought you were joking about coming.” She peered at him quizzically. “Was there not something said about Almack’s being far too staid?”
“Geoffrey desired to see the place,” he tossed back easily. “I shall leave you in his hands if Miss Aderly will kindly consent to dance with me,” Lord Greydon told his sister, his eyes all the while on Audacia.
“Do go, Miss Aderly,” Lady Lucille prompted, “the music is delightful and Roland an excellent dancer.”
“Yes,” Geoffrey added coming from behind Greydon. “I shall entertain Lady Lucille.”
Something in the squire’s look urged her to go. Stifling the urge to give Lord Greydon a set down, she accepted his arm.
Wordless, Greydon led her to the dance floor.