Last Gentleman Standing

by Jane Ashford

  “Enough,” said Elisabeth. “Stop this quarreling immediately.”

  “Cousin Elisabeth,” said Belinda eagerly, “do you know what that horrid dog of Tony’s has done now?”

  “He’s chewed up one of your dress lengths. Where was it?”

  “Why, I was just cutting the pattern in my room, and I went downstairs for a moment to fetch more pins and…”

  “Did you leave the door open?” asked Elisabeth.

  Belinda looked petulant. “I suppose I did. I had no notion I must lock my bedroom door in my own house.”

  “I hope there’s no need of that, indeed,” said Elisabeth dryly. “But one should not go about leaving doors open, either.” She turned to Tony, who had begun to grin. “However,” she continued repressively, “I left strict instructions that Growser was to be limited to the kitchen and the yard. What was he doing upstairs?”

  “Well, I’m not precisely certain,” said the boy. “I tied him securely this morning. I expect he was lonely down there and came in search of me.”

  “And not finding you, he took out his natural disappointment on Belinda’s muslin, I suppose,” offered Elisabeth. “Ames tells me he chewed through the rope you used.”

  “Did he indeed?” said Anthony appreciatively. “He is a very resourceful dog.”

  “I daresay he is. But if he is not kept in the kitchen in future, Tony, we shall have to send him down to Willowmere. We cannot have him wandering about the house eating good muslin and frightening Cousin Lavinia out of her wits.”

  “Cousin Lavinia has made friends with him,” said Tony defensively. “She likes him quite well now.”

  “That is beside the point, and you know it.” Elisabeth looked at him sharply. “I meant what I said, Tony. And if you were sincere when you promised you would do everything as I wished, you will see to Growser.”

  Tony looked contrite. “Of course,” he answered.

  “Good. Belinda, we will find you another piece of muslin tomorrow. Perhaps you should start with one of the other lengths.” Looking dissatisfied, Belinda flounced out of the room.

  “I’m truly sorry, Cousin Elisabeth,” said Tony when she had gone. “It is just that Belinda put me in such a flame with her silly muslin. How bird-witted to care for such things.”

  “Belinda does not think it bird-witted. And I am sure that you wish to show consideration for your sister’s feelings.”

  “Huh,” said Tony, but as Elisabeth gazed at him, he lowered his head. “Yes, I suppose so,” he admitted finally.

  “Good. Let us say no more about it.” She smiled. “Do you know anything about buying horses?”

  Tony’s mulish expression yielded to an eager confidence. “I should say I do. I used to pass on all my father’s choices before he shelled out the ready. Bought them, I mean,” he added sheepishly.

  Elisabeth smiled. “Should you like to find some suitable horses for us?” she asked.

  His eyes glowed. “Above anything. I know just where to go, too. Tattersall’s. That’s where the best animals are to be found in London.”

  “Very well. I shall trust your judgment. We require some carriage horses; you may come with me to choose the vehicle as well, if you wish. And I’d like a mount for riding in the park. I imagine you want one as well.”

  Tony nodded vigorously. “What sort of horse do you like, cousin? I’ll wager you’re a bruising rider.”

  She laughed. “Not bruising precisely, but I like a spirited mount. Will Belinda wish to ride, do you think?”

  Tony shook his head contemptuously. “She’s never cared for it.”

  “Well, that should suffice at first, then. I put the whole matter in your hands.”

  “Thank you. This is…is simply splendid of you, Cousin Elisabeth. And I promise you will get only sweet-goers.”

  In the next few weeks, everything was somehow accomplished. Tony did his part with enthusiasm, procuring a team of neat bays, a black gelding for himself, and a beautiful little brown mare for Elisabeth. He also persuaded her to get him a curricle and bought a pair of high-stepping grays to draw it. Elisabeth was a bit uneasy about this purchase, as she doubted his promise to drive carefully. However, in spite of his boyish starts, Tony was nearly of an age to be on the town, and as he had vehemently denied any wish for further education, Elisabeth supposed he must be allowed some latitude. She felt very unsure when trying to guide him, but she knew enough to realize that responsibility was good for him and that too much restriction would cause him to rebel.

  Their clothes were made up and delivered, the new servants hired, and Elisabeth received favorable reports from Willowmere. Altogether, things had gone more smoothly than she had dreamed they could. By the time society was beginning to trickle back into town, they were prepared to join the gaieties of the season. As Elisabeth sat alone in the drawing room one afternoon, having sent all her cousins off to see some of the sights of London, she pondered her only remaining concern. How were they to enter society when none of them knew a soul in London except Mr. Tilling?

  Six

  Elisabeth sat in her refurbished library, trying to remember the names of friends of her father with whom she might claim acquaintance. But it had been years since he was in London, and she could recall none. The same was true for Belinda and Tony, and she hesitated to ask Cousin Lavinia. Ames entered the library and announced that she had two callers. She looked up sharply. “Callers? Why, who can they be Ames? We know no one who might be calling.”

  Ames handed her a visiting card. “It is the Viscountess Larenby and her daughter, miss,” he replied with a clear consciousness of the sensation he was creating.

  Elisabeth was astonished. “The Viscountess Larenby? I’ve never heard of her. What can she want?”

  “I don’t know, miss. Perhaps you’d care to ask her yourself? I’ve shown the ladies into the drawing room.”

  “Yes, I suppose I must.” She puzzled over the card. “Tell them I’ll be there directly.” She ran quickly up the stairs to her bedroom and surveyed herself in the mirror. She was wearing one of her new gowns, a sprig muslin with long sleeves and a high collar, and Ketchem had recently cut her hair and dressed it in a knot on top of her head with curls falling over her ears. It was quite becoming.

  As she was going back downstairs, she stopped to tap on Belinda’s door. The younger girl jumped up excitedly when she heard they had visitors.

  Elisabeth entered her drawing room feeling a little nervous, and the sight of the ladies who rose to greet her did nothing to put her at ease. Both were tall and brunette; the elder possessed an impressive dignity and elegance of both dress and air, and the younger was strikingly handsome. They looked much alike—slender with chiseled features and large pale blue eyes startlingly attractive with their dark coloring. Elisabeth felt they surveyed her appraisingly. “How do you do,” she said. “I am Elisabeth Elham. Please sit down; it’s very kind of you to call.”

  Her tone and manner seemed to soften the older woman a bit. “Thank you. We’ve taken the first opportunity to do so. We arrived from the country only recently, you see.”

  “Oh,” said Elisabeth. “It’s very good of you to come.”

  The three women sat down, and a short silence fell. Elisabeth cast about desperately for something to say.

  “Your drawing room is lovely,” said the viscountess, looking around at the pale blue walls and darker blue carpet and hangings.

  “Thank you,” replied Elisabeth. “I’ve had a great deal to do in the house since I came to London. My uncle left it in a sad state.”

  The viscountess smiled slightly. “Yes, his treatment of Willowmere would lead one to expect that.”

  “Indeed,” said Elisabeth, eagerly grasping this conversational gambit. “I’ve begun repairs there as well. I think the estate could be quite beautiful if properly cared for. Do you know it?” Here a
t last seemed to be a clue to her callers’ identity. “You are from that neighborhood?”

  Lady Larenby looked surprised. “Yes. Our country place, Charendon, is on the adjoining land.”

  “Ah. I am so pleased to make the acquaintance of my neighbors. But you are in London for the season?”

  The viscountess nodded. “I am bringing Amelia out this year.” The younger of Elisabeth’s visitors smiled a bit self-consciously.

  Elisabeth returned her smile. “My cousin, who will be down in a moment, is also to make her debut.” Amelia murmured some polite nothing. Elisabeth turned back to her mother. “It’s really very kind of you to think of calling on a new neighbor. I know very few people in London as yet.”

  Lady Larenby appeared puzzled but made a deprecating gesture. “The season has scarcely started. I’m sure you will meet as many people as you could wish, or more, very soon. I hope you and your cousin will attend a small evening party I’m giving next week to introduce Amelia?”

  “Oh, we should be pleased. It is excessively good of you. I am a complete stranger.” She stopped in confusion.

  Lady Larenby smiled graciously. “My son spoke highly of you, I hope we may not remain strangers.”

  At this further inexplicable remark, Elisabeth gave it up. “Your son?” she asked.

  Once more, the viscountess looked startled. She glanced fleetingly at her daughter, but found no help there. “Yes, my son Derek,” she added. As Elisabeth continued to gaze at her uncomprehendingly, she went on, “Derek Wincannon, my son. He told us that he had met you. Did that graceless creature not tell you we would call? He reminded me often enough, I promise you.”

  Elisabeth’s brow cleared, and she laughed. “Oh, dear,” she replied. “I’d completely forgotten my encounter with Mr. Wincannon. And he certainly did not tell me he was a viscount,” she finished severely.

  “Well, he isn’t as yet, you know,” said Lady Larenby, her eyes dancing. “He is only a Right Honorable. My husband is Viscount Larenby.”

  “How scatterbrained you must think me!” Elisabeth said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t understand who you were, and I was desperately trying to gather clues from your conversation.” Her expression invited them to share her laugh at herself, and both ladies smiled.

  “I should have written a note,” replied Lady Larenby. “But I assure you that my heedless son gave us to understand you were expecting us. He will hear of this.” She also shook her head.

  “And I thought it a mere polite nothing when he said his mother would call on me.” Elisabeth met the viscountess’s twinkling eyes, and they shared a moment of helpless resignation at the unfathomable ways of men.

  Just then, Belinda came into the drawing room. She had changed into a dress of crisp white muslin trimmed with knots of blue ribbon, and a blue riband was threaded through her curls, which had been, like Elisabeth’s, recently cut and dressed by Ketchem. Elisabeth introduced her, and she sat down next to Miss Wincannon. The conversation faltered for a moment, then Amelia complimented Belinda on her gown and asked where she’d had it made. When Belinda replied that she had made it herself, Amelia was suitably impressed, and the two young girls embarked on an extended discussion of the latest modes.

  The viscountess smiled at them benignly. “They look to be of an age,” she said, turning to Elisabeth. “Amelia is just eighteen, and she’s chiefly interested in her dresses at this period in her life.”

  “Belinda is the same,” smiled Elisabeth.

  “She is a lovely girl.” And indeed the pair sitting across from them made a striking picture. Amelia’s dark, but brilliant coloring set off Belinda’s paleness to a nicety and vice versa. They were a study in contrasts. Lady Larenby lifted an eyebrow. “I remember when I was Amelia’s age my best friend was a blond.” She smiled and cocked her head as Elisabeth laughed appreciatively. “You said your cousin was to come out. Will you not be making your bow to society as well this year?”

  “Oh, I shall accompany Belinda, but I am past the age for a come-out, I fear.”

  The viscountess’s eyes twinkled. “Indeed? I took you for a girl in her twenties. How easily one may be mistaken about these things.”

  “Well, it is not my age precisely. I’ve lived on my own these five years, you see, supporting myself as a teacher at Bath. And my feelings and behavior are now very far removed from those of a girl just coming out. I should not be ‘right.’ Belinda is the one to make a success in that line.”

  “I predict you will both take the ton by storm,” replied the viscountess. There was a short pause, then she continued hesitantly. “You have not concluded, I hope, that because of your experience as a teacher you can serve as Belinda’s only chaperone? Forgive me, but it would not do. You are really not of an age to live alone in London.”

  “So I have been told,” answered Elisabeth wryly. “And you may be easy on that head. Besides Belinda’s brother and his very large dog, we are chaperoned by Cousin Lavinia. Oh dear, I’ve forgotten to ask her to come to the drawing room.”

  Lady Larenby laughed at her patent dismay. “Cousin Lavinia?” she echoed encouragingly.

  Elisabeth looked toward the door. “I really should go fetch her. She is one of my mother’s family, Lavinia Ottley. She is much older than I.”

  This disjointed explanation appeared to interest her guest. “Was your mother Elisabeth Ottley? I didn’t know. We came out in the same season, years ago.”

  “Really? Yes, she was my mother; she died when I was very young. Did you know her well?”

  “Alas, no. Though I believe we did meet once or twice, we never became friends. And after her marriage…” She stopped, looking embarrassed.

  Elisabeth nodded. “Her family cast her off, and she went to live in the country.”

  “There were many who thought them very wrong to treat her so.”

  The girl shrugged. “It matters little now.” She shifted in her seat. “I really should find Cousin Lavinia,” she repeated. But she made no move; she felt a little nervous of introducing her odd relative to her visitors.

  To her relief, Lady Larenby rose. “I’m afraid we must be going now. We shall hope to meet her soon. Do bring her to call.” With some difficulty, she pulled Amelia away from an intense discussion of the relative merits of braid trim and ribbons, and the two took their leave, promising to send round a card of invitation for the evening party.

  Just after they left, Cousin Lavinia bustled into the room. Immediately, Elisabeth felt guilty, but it appeared that Lavinia had only just returned from a walk. She held a small piece of notepaper in her hand. “Well, you will never guess,” she fluttered. “I have just received this note from my distinctive friend Judith.” She waved the paper about. “We were in school together, you know, oh, many years ago now, and then she went off to make a grand marriage. A very grand marriage, my dear. Of course, Judith was an exceptionable girl. So lovely, with those great dark eyes, and very intelligent, though not in the least ‘blue,’ I assure you. Her father was rich as Midas. Not that she wouldn’t have married well otherwise, but her portion was very large.”

  “She’s written to you?” put in Elisabeth, seeking to stem this flow of information.

  “Oh, yes. We corresponded faithfully for several years, you know, but then gradually, we got out of the habit. It’s sad how often that happens, isn’t it? One’s very closest friends drift away, and soon one knows no more about them than any stranger.” She appeared to sink into melancholy reflection at this observation.

  Elisabeth prompted her. “But she has written you once again.”

  Lavinia started. “Oh. Yes. Yes, indeed. I thought of her straightaway when I saw you’d come up against a cult-de-sock in London. I hoped she might introduce us to her acquaintances, you know, and here she’s written that she means to call. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Splendid,” replied Elisabeth. �
��You shouldn’t have troubled, Cousin Lavinia.”

  “Oh my, no trouble at all. It will be so magnetic to see Judith again. I’m sure you will like her. And anything I can do, you know, anything at all, to repay your kindness to me, why, I should be the most ungracious creature in nature if I didn’t leap to do it. And such a simple pleasant thing as this. You know, Elisabeth…” But they were not to hear what Elisabeth knew, for at that moment Ames entered the drawing room.

  “The Duchess of Sherbourne,” he announced impressively, ushering a diminutive gray-haired woman into the room.

  Elisabeth and Belinda stared incredulously, first at Ames, then at the visitor, and their mouths dropped slightly open. But Cousin Lavinia bustled forward joyously. “Judith!” she cried. “How gratuitous. We were just speaking of you.”

  It took the two younger women a moment to recover from their astonishment. By the time they’d done so, they’d been introduced to the duchess, and she was sitting on the sofa beside Lavinia chatting happily of their school days together. Elisabeth watched them with a mixture of amazement and mirth as she berated herself for her snobbish underestimation of her cousin.

  At a pause in their conversation, the duchess remarked, “So, Lavinia, you’re bringing out your young cousins this season?”

  “Yes,” responded Lavinia complacently. “I should think they will ‘take.’”

  “Oh, no question of that. They’re lovely. I’ll get you vouchers for Almack’s from Sally Jersey, if you like. And I’ll send my son round.” She chuckled. “He’s something of a slowtop, but he is a duke, after all.” She looked Elisabeth and Belinda over more carefully; Elisabeth struggled not to laugh as she endured this scrutiny. “Yes,” she continued finally, “they’ll do. Shall I give a ball for them, Lavinia?”

  “Oh, Your Grace!” murmured Belinda, dazzled.

  The duchess gave a bark of laughter. “I shall,” she decided. “I never had a daughter. I’ll take them under my wing.”

  “Very kind of you, Judith,” replied Lavinia. “I hoped you might just give them a push, you know. Introduce them to some of the indispensable people.”