A Change of Fortune

by Sandra Heath

  Dorothea was twenty-eight years old and very tall and thin. She wore a small honey-colored fur hat and a similarly colored three-quarter-length pelisse, from beneath the hem of which spilled the delicate folds of her white muslin gown. Her little feet, of which she was very vain, were encased in neat ankle boots which were laced very fashionably at the back. In her arms she carried her pet pug dog, Baryshna, which had around its neck a Persian gold collar studded with turquoises. This collar had been a gift from the Empress Maria Feodorovna, and was therefore always on display, since it was necessary to remind the British of such a grand royal connection. Dorothea sat stiffly on the seat, glancing neither to the right nor to the left, but her clever black eyes missed nothing for all that, and she was aware of everyone she passed.

  Next to her on the velvet seat was her cousin Miss Nadia Benckendorff, who at the age of twenty-one was possessed of a breathtaking golden beauty which was set off to the very best advantage by the wearing of white from head to toe. She had on a fur-trimmed pelisse, a bombazine gown, a fur hat and muff, and ankle boots, and all were the purest of whites. Her large green eyes were set in a heart-shaped face, and her lips were that rosebud shape which was all the rage. Her golden hair was cut short so that it curled prettily around her face, making her one of the loveliest creatures and turning many an admiring male head as the carriage swept past. Nadia’s looks and lofty connections might have been expected to have won her many suitable offers of marriage, but they had not. The truth was that she was virtually penniless and was completely dependent upon the charity of other branches of her family. It was not a situation which she liked or appreciated, and she had left St. Petersburg determined to find herself a wealthy British husband; and like Emmeline Hart twenty years earlier, she was not very particular about the means she used to achieve her aim. Today she was feeling confident that soon she would succeed, for she had set her scheming, ambitious cap at the young man sitting opposite her in the carriage. He had initially been cool and indifferent toward her, but during the last week he had undergone a gratifyingly promising change of heart, as his presence at this rather dull visit to the seminary bore excellent witness. She looked across at him and smiled; it was a slow sensuous smile which assured him of so very much if things continued in the present vein. He returned the smile.

  The carriage at last drew up at the curb outside the seminary. The gentleman alighted, pausing for the briefest of moments to look up at the balconied window of the principal bedchamber on the second floor. His glance took in the sturdy fig tree growing so conveniently next to it. He smiled a little to himself and then turned gallantly to assist Dorothea and Nadia to step down from the carriage.

  The visitors’ unexpected promptness caught Leonie unawares, and Katy was still putting the final touches to her hair as the carriage drew up outside. With a gasp she looked a last time at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if the light blue dimity gown and pearl necklace and earrings were right for the occasion. Katy handed her her shawl and she hurried out of the room, forgetting her reticule, which the maid hastily picked up and brought quickly after her. Leonie had descended the stairs as far as the half-landing, but there she came to a startled halt, drawing swiftly back out of view of those in the vestibule below. Katy hurried down to her and Leonie immediately put a warning finger to her lips before pointing down. The maid looked over the edge of the banisters and her breath caught as she immediately recognized the tall, handsome gentleman standing with Dorothea and Nadia.

  At that moment Miss Hart bustled from the visitors’ room at the rear of the house. She was all smiles and civility, her dull green taffeta skirts rustling, her best biggin trembling with ribboned bows. “Ah, Countess, Miss Benckendorff, how delighted I am to welcome you once more.” She sank into a curtsy and then rose, looking inquiringly at the gentleman, whom she did not know.

  Dorothea immediately effected the necessary introduction. Her voice was hard and dry, and had a heavy French accent, for French was the language of the court at St. Petersburg. “Miss Hart, may I present you to his grace the Duke of Thornbury.”

  “Your grace.” Miss Hart dutifully curtsied again.

  Leonie was astonished to learn the identity of her admirer, for Rupert Allingham, fourth Duke of Thornbury, was one of the most eligible and sought-after gentlemen in the realm!

  Down in the vestibule, Miss Hart was attending assiduously to her duties as hostess. Still all smiles and affability, she murmured that they would all be much more comfortable in the visitors’ room, and she led the way in that direction, followed by Dorothea, the plump pug still clasped in her arms.

  Rupert was about to go with them, when suddenly Nadia put a hand softly on his arm. “A moment, milord.” Her voice was husky and like Dorothea’s had a strong French accent.

  He was reluctant to linger. “I hardly think this is the time—”

  “Please, milord,” she persisted, “for there may not be another opportunity to speak alone with you today.” She moved perceptibly closer to him. Her hand was still on his arm, and her green eyes were dark and lustrous. “I only want to beg you not to go to Althorp for Christmas, but to stay in London.”

  “I’ve already accepted the invitation.”

  “Make an excuse. Do it for me.”

  He smiled a little. “For you? My dear Nadia. I hardly see the point, since you will be in Streatham Park and therefore out of town as well.”

  “I could stay on at the embassy.”

  “And disappoint your cousin? No, we will leave our plans as they stand. Now, then, let us rejoin the others before they wonder what mischief we’re up to.”

  She pouted a little, but then her hand dropped from his arm and she smiled. “I won’t give up, milord. I shall keep on until you change your mind.”

  “You, madam, are astonishingly forward.”

  “In St. Petersburg we do not waste time in pretense.”

  “So it seems.” He offered her his arm and they walked toward the visitors’ room.

  The two secret onlookers still stood on the half-landing. Katy turned anxiously to Leonie. “What will you do now? Will you still go down?”

  “I don’t know what to do, for if I go down, then I am certain to be formally introduced to him, and that is something I wish to avoid at all costs.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps I could cry off with a headache. Yes, that’s it, you must go to Miss Hart and tell her I’ve been taken unwell and won’t be able to join them.”

  But even as she said this, Miss Hart suddenly appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Ah, there you are, Miss Conyngham, I was wondering where you’d got to. Do come down, the countess and her guests have already arrived.”

  “Yes, Miss Hart, but….” Leonie broke off, for the headmistress had hurried away again without hearing.

  Katy was dismayed. “Oh, now you’ll have to go down.”

  Leonie nodded reluctantly.

  “It’ll be all right, I’m sure it will. You’re probably completely wrong about the duke.” The maid’s voice lacked conviction.

  “I’m not wrong about him. I only wish I was.” Leonie took a deep breath and then went down the remaining stairs.

  Chapter 6

  The visitors’ room, as might be expected, was a particularly handsome chamber, for it was here that Miss Hart received all important visitors, and here that the young ladies entertained their families and friends. It was a blue-and-gold room, decorated with Christmas greenery and dominated by another portrait of Dorothea. A bright fire flickered in the gray-and-white marble fireplace, and a very fine cut-glass chandelier illuminated the elegant furnishings. The sofas and chairs were upholstered in sapphire-blue velvet, there was cream brocade on the walls, and the curtains waiting to be drawn at the tall windows were of a particularly rich and heavy dark gold.

  Tea was to be served at a low table before two of the sofas. The best gold-and-white porcelain had been put out, and there were plates of little triangular sandwiches, cakes, and biscuits. It
all looked very formal and precise, even to the carefully arranged bowl of Christmas roses in the center, and it didn’t look at all inviting.

  Outside the sun had almost set now, its dying rays resting blood-red on the roofs of the houses in South Audley Street. In the seminary’s garden, the ornamental pool seemed as if petrified, as did the weeping willow hanging over it. The pale light from the windows illuminated the two stone sphinxes, but beyond them all was lost in the brief winter twilight.

  No one had commenced tea as Leonie entered. Dorothea and Miss Hart were seated on one of the sofas by the table, while Rupert and Nadia were inspecting a painting in the alcove by the fireplace. They were so intent upon it that they did not hear the door open and close.

  Dorothea was criticizing the windows. “I tell you they are naked,” she was saying, “quite naked and abominable.”

  Miss Hart was a little bemused. “I…I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

  “Naked, Miss Hart. I think you British have no idea at all how to make your houses agreeable in the winter. You keep them so cold, and you leave the windows bare so that one is forced to look outside and remember how dismal the weather is. In Russia it is the custom to place exotic plants in embrasures, so that the illusion of spring or even summer is created. Then one may forget that it is winter.” She waved a disparaging hand toward the windows. “This is most discomforting.”

  “Oh. Oh, I’m so very sorry,” cried Miss Hart in dismay. “I’ll have the curtains drawn immediately!”

  “Drawn? That will not do. unless you intend to keep them drawn all day as well as all night.”

  The headmistress did not know what she was expected to reply to this. “Well, yes,” she said tentatively, “of course, if that is what you wish.”

  “Mon Dieu,” cried Dorothea in some irritation, “of course that is not what I wish. Why would I wish to sit in the dark all the time? You have obviously not understood what I’ve been saying.”

  “I haven’t?” Miss Hart was mortified, her cheeks flushing very pink indeed.

  “The plants, madam, the plants!”

  In something of a daze, the headmistress gazed dumbly at the garlands of holly, ivy, myrtle, and mistletoe, which were the only plants in the room.

  “Not those wretched things, Miss Hart, the plants for the windows!” Dorothea gave an impatient sigh. “I will see that some are sent from the greenhouses at Streatham Park.”

  “Streatham Park?”

  “The country estate we have taken for the time being.”

  “Oh.”

  “I presume you know how to look after delicate plants?”

  “Oh, yes, my lady,” replied Miss Hart most untruthfully. “You are very kind.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it, madam. I merely think of my own comfort. I cannot abide naked windows.”

  Miss Hart noticed Leonie then and thankfully beckoned her forward. “Ah, Miss Conyngham, do come closer.”

  Rupert turned immediately, his glance raking Leonie. Nadia, who had still been discussing the merits of the painting, broke off in mid-sentence as she became aware of his sudden interest in the new arrival. Her green eyes hardened as she saw the look in his eyes, and she instantly formed a dislike for Leonie.

  Miss Hart was relieved to be able to divert attention from the windows. She beamed at Dorothea. “My lady, you are of course already acquainted with Miss Conyngham, but I do not believe she has met either Miss Benckendorff or his grace.”

  Leonie curtsied to Dorothea. “Good afternoon, my lady.”

  Dorothea gave a gracious nod. “Enchanté, Miss Conyngham. How very charming you look, I do so like pearls with pale blue, there is something so very tasteful about such a combination. Now then, allow me to present you to my cousin, Miss Benckendorff. Nadia, this is Miss Conyngham, who is the most senior young lady here.”

  Nadia’s acknowledgment was exceedingly cool; she inclined her head but said nothing at all. Leonie could not help but be aware of the other’s dislike, and so she too said nothing, but she guessed why she was being received so very coolly, for one had only to glance at Rupert to see. He had not taken his eyes from her since the moment he realized she was there.

  Dorothea’s black eyes flickered curiously toward her silent cousin, but then Rupert stepped forward to be introduced. “Ah yes, Miss Conyngham,” she said, “this is his grace the Duke of Thornbury. Your grace, allow me to present Miss Conyngham.”

  He took Leonie’s hand and drew it warmly to his lips. “Your servant, Miss Conyngham.”

  “Your grace.” Leonie’s voice was not encouraging and she deliberately withdrew her hand at the earliest moment.

  He seemed undeterred. “You are the seminary’s most senior young lady? Am I to hope that that means you will soon be out in society?”

  Before she could reply, Miss Hart spoke for her. “She will indeed, your grace, and it is my opinion that she will be to the 1814 Season what dear Lady Imogen Longhurst was to that of 1813.”

  He smiled, gazing into Leonie’s eyes. “I’m sure you are right,” he murmured.

  Nadia gave a slight laugh. “How can there be anyone to compare with Lady Imogen?” she said, going to sit down on one of the sofas.

  Miss Hart smiled at her. “You are acquainted with Lady Imogen, Miss Benckendorff?”

  “She and I are very close friends indeed, Miss Hart.”

  “I do so hope that one day soon she will call upon us here—it would be so good to see her again. I would welcome the opportunity to congratulate her upon her forthcoming betrothal to Sir Guy de Lacey.”

  Nadia didn’t reply. Her angry green eyes were still upon Rupert and Leonie.

  Belatedly Miss Hart detected the undercurrents which had been stirred the moment Leonie had come into the room. Clearing her throat a little nervously, she turned once more to Dorothea, keeping a wary eye as she did so upon the pug, which had already snapped irritably at her hand. “I understand that you wish to discuss changes in next year’s curriculum.”

  “I do, since at the moment there appears to be a very serious omission.”

  “Omission? Oh, surely that cannot be so.”

  “It can, madam. I refer to the subject of history.”

  Miss Hart stared. “History? But Miss Ross is an excellent teacher, my lady. I’m sure there cannot be anything wrong with her lessons.”

  “There is a great deal wrong when the history of the greatest nation on earth is omitted. I speak of Russia, Miss Hart.”

  Miss Hart’s mouth opened and closed. “Russia?” she said at last.

  “It is my opinion that Russian history must be taught here, and since from your reaction it appears necessary to explain my reasons, I will now proceed to do so.”

  As she began, Rupert suddenly offered Leonie his arm.

  “Miss Conyngham, I’m intrigued by the sphinxes I noticed outside the window. Perhaps you would be good enough to explain them to me.”

  It was a ploy to get her away from the others. She ignored the proffered arm. “They are only reproductions, sir, and not in the least interesting.”

  “Nevertheless, I would like you to tell me about them,” he replied, taking her hand and drawing it firmly through his arm.

  Short of making a scene, she had no alternative but to go with him to the window, which was well out of the hearing of the others. She could feel Nadia’s angry gaze following them.

  He looked out at the two statues, pretending to discuss them, but in reality he spoke of something entirely different. “You don’t seem pleased to see me, Miss Conyngham.”

  “You’re very perceptive, sir.”

  “You’re devastatingly honest.”

  “It seems necessary where you are concerned, sir.”

  “Come now, don’t be cross with me. I haven’t sinned so very greatly, have I?”

  “I can hardly be cross with you, sir, since I’m completely indifferent to you,” she replied dryly. She met his gaze. “You’ve wasted your time coming here.�
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  He raised an eyebrow. “Do they teach all their young ladies to be so forthright?”

  She didn’t reply.

  He looked at her for a moment and then glanced briefly back at Nadia, who was still watching jealously from the other side of the room. “Perhaps it is because you think I have an understanding with Miss Benckendorff,” he said, “and if so, let me assure you that I don’t. She means nothing to me and I’ve given her no reason to think that she does.”

  She stared at him, remembering the scene she and Katy had witnessed in the vestibule. “You’re despicable,” she whispered. “You’re giving her every reason!”

  His eyes became more guarded. “Whatever you may think, I promise you that Miss Benckendorff does not warrant your sympathy. She is interested only in my wealth and title.”

  “Perhaps such selectivity is understandable where you are concerned, for to be sure you don’t appear to be particularly likable.”

  Anger flashed across his handsome face. “You are very rude, Miss Conyngham, unnecessarily so, if I may say so.”

  “You may say what you wish, sirrah, for if I’m rude to you it’s because you deserve it. Your reason for coming here today is very insulting indeed, and so under the circumstances, I feel that my mild sarcasm is more than justified.”

  He gave a cool laugh, but he was angry. “Insulting? Since when has taking a cup of tea been an insult?”

  “I’m not a fool, sir, and so pray don’t treat me like one. When you saw me in the park you decided to try to seduce me. Your presence here now is merely further proof of that.”

  “My dear Miss Conyngham, you presume too much.”

  “No, sirrah, it is you who presume too much. In the park you thought yourself the end in subtlety and cleverness, and you were wrong. You’re still wrong, for I will never be even mildly well-disposed toward you. And now, if you will excuse me, I am needed to assist with the tea.” She left him just as the maids came in with the silver teapot and hot water jug. She sat down at the other end of the sofa where Nadia sat. There was malice in the glance Nadia gave her.