by Buck, Gayle
“I have never entirely believed that, Mama,” said Guin quietly. As she expected, her mother took exception to her voicing of an opinion that ran counter to Mrs. Holland’s own.
Mrs. Holland gave an angry exclamation, before saying, “Then you are a great zany, Guin! Let me tell you that being the Earl of Holybrooke is counted as something in this world and—”
“Have done, Mama,” said Lord Holybrooke wearily, throwing up his hand. “I have heard you on this subject until I am sick to death of it. I agree with my sister. Lady Smythe is herself too up in the world to care one way or the other what I am called. That alone does not suffice to explain this patent interest in Guin’s affairs.”
“I shall not argue with you, dearest,” said Mrs. Holland with a determined effort toward a smile. Her eyes still snapped with anger, and she avoided glancing at her daughter. “I am going upstairs to rest before I change for dinner. You will congratulate your sister on her good fortune!” Mrs. Holland swept out of the sitting room, slamming the door behind her.
“Lord, Guin, what’s to be done? You can’t go stay with Lady Smythe! It’s the queerest turnout I’ve ever heard of,” said Lord Holybrooke, taking a turn about the room.
“Actually, I think that I should do so,” said Guin thoughtfully. When her brother swung around to stare at her, she chuckled. “No, don’t look at me like that, dear Percy! I haven’t run mad, I assure you. And I am not knuckling under, as you would say! I am just remembering something our uncle said to me not too long ago. When Lady Smythe made her first overtures, he told me that he had the feeling that it might be the very thing for me.”
“I don’t see how,” said Lord Holybrooke. His eyes were hard, and there was a mulish look about his mouth.
Guin rose to her feet and smoothed her skirt. “Nor do I, Percy. However, I am very willing to find out if our uncle is right. Oh, don’t look so tragic, Percy! I shall be back in a fortnight, after all. And it is not worth fighting Mama over. I should prefer you to keep your worst outburst for if she decides on someone perfectly repulsive for me.”
Lord Holybrooke laughed. He shook his head. “I still don’t like it. But I shan’t stand in your way if you truly don’t mind.”
“Well, I do mind, but only because I shall miss you and our uncle,” said Guin. “However, it is not for very long, and you will come see me every day.”
“Yes, of course I will!” said Lord Holybrooke quickly, sliding an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. He opened the sitting room door for her. “You know, I was engaged with a party of friends, but I think I shall go along with you and Mama to this music soiree. Just to keep an eye on you, you know.”
“Thank you, Percy. I know that I may always count on you,” said Guin, smiling up at him as she passed through the door.
Sir Frederick proved himself the perfect host. He had spared no detail or expense. He had secured one of the best situated boxes, where the activity in Vauxhall Gardens could be observed like a show and, later, would prove to be an excellent vantage point to watch the fireworks display. The supper which he had ordered for his guests was superlative, the champagne excellent. The mix of guests was skillfully done, providing even Mrs. Holland a compatible companion in her elderly admirer, General Layton.
It proved to be a successful gathering, and Sir Frederick was complimented more than once by his various guests for his efforts. When the fireworks began, there was a general move toward the front of the box. Most of the ladies chose to have their chairs resituated, but Guin stood at the rail, watching as the fireworks exploded high overhead across the soft night sky. It was a glorious sight, as the appreciative murmurs and laughter proved.
The evening air had grown cool, and Guin pulled her shawl closer. A warm hand drew the edge of the shawl gently over her shoulder, and she turned a surprised face.
Sir Frederick smiled down at her. His face was half in shadow, lit flickeringly by the glare from the fireworks. “Is that better?” he asked quietly.
Guin nodded. ‘‘Thank you, Sir Frederick. You always see to my comfort.”
“I should like to have the right to do so, certainly,” he said softly.
Guin’s pulse leaped. She found that she could not breathe properly. She stared up into his face, attempting to read his expression in the uncertain light. “Yes, Sir Frederick?”
“Would you object if I were to call on you, in a formal way, Miss Holland?” asked Sir Frederick in a low voice. There was an undercurrent of meaning in the polite phrase.
Guin scarcely dared to hope that he meant what she thought he did. Her fingers tightened on the rail. “Oh, I would have not the least objection, Sir Frederick.”
Sir Frederick sought her hand and carried it to his lips. His salute was pressed lightly on her tingling fingers. “I am honored, Miss Holland.”
Guin blushed and was glad for the darkness. She was anxious that he knew what was happening in her life. “I—I shall not be at home for the corning fortnight, Sir Frederick.” In a particularly bright explosion, she saw that his brows had quirked upward. She rushed into explanation. “I am to go to Lady Smythe’s this evening. Her ladyship is giving a ball in my honor, and she wishes me to be involved in the planning of it.”
“I see,” said Sir Frederick, a slight frown coming into his face. He glanced down at her, a rueful smile touching his mouth. “My timing is obviously off by a fraction. Perhaps it will be best to wait on what I wished to say to you until you have returned home.”
“If—if you think it best, Sir Frederick,” said Guin civilly, even as she felt her heart plunge into acute disappointment.
He covered her hand, just for a moment, where it lay again on the rail. “Believe me, I would not for worlds interfere with Lady Smythe’s plans for you. Her ladyship is a great lady, and a good friend to those whom she likes.”
“Then you do not think that her ladyship is being kind to me because Percy became an earl?” asked Guin.
His astonishment was plain, even in the half-light. “My dear! Of course not. Lady Smythe has chosen to befriend you because it pleases her to do so. That is the full sum of it.”
“I had wondered, you see,” said Guin.
There was no further opportunity for private conversation, since Sir Frederick’s attention was claimed by one of his other guests. He moved away and Guin felt his absence. Yet, as she drew her fingers along the edges of her shawl, she was happy. She tipped back her head and lost herself again in the wonder of the magnificent fireworks.
Chapter Twenty-two
When Lady Smythe disembarked from her carriage, followed by Guin, her ladyship did not linger in the spacious entry hall of her large town house, but ordered her guest to follow her into the sitting room. Refreshments were brought while the ladies made themselves comfortable. Lady Smythe told her servants to go away. They did so, noiselessly closing the ornately carved door.
Lady Smythe did not allow Guin to reflect on the awkwardness of her situation. Quite dispassionately, her ladyship said, “You are probably a sensible girl, so I shall not waste time in pretty phrases. I have persuaded your mother to allow you to come stay with me for precisely three reasons. When I decided to see whether or not I could bring you into fashion, it was an object with me to separate you from your mother. You do not shine in Mrs. Holland’s presence. In addition, while it is quite true that I shall instruct you in how to put together a successful ball, I am also determined to see that you acquire a bit of town bronze before you stand at the top of my stairs and greet my guests. You have very little countenance. I will not have my ball pronounced a failure because you shrink into the woodwork.”
Guin scarcely knew whether she should be crushed or indignant at her ladyship’s plain speaking. She decided that indignation gave her the greater dignity. “All of what you say about me may be true, my lady. However, I never asked you to sponsor me, and so I fail to understand why you should put yourself to such trouble at all!”
“No, quite true,” said Lady
Smythe unperturbedly, “I am glad that I was not mistaken when I thought I detected a bit of spirit in you on a couple of occasions. It will make things all the easier. You would be a beauty if you showed your teeth more often, my dear.”
“Thank you, I am sure, ma’am,” said Guin, obeying this injunctive in a literal spirit by lifting her lips in what looked suspiciously like a ladylike snarl.
Lady Smythe chuckled. “No, no, my dear! Such ferocity won’t do. You must be more subtle and allow the flash in your eyes to convey your displeasure. The barest smile will suffice for those who are to be accorded cold civility. As for those you wish to encourage, lower your lashes and glance upward through them. Any man worth his salt will respond to such an invitation!”
Guin spluttered on a laugh. “Ma’am, you are absurd!”
“That’s good,” said Lady Smythe approvingly. “You must cultivate that delicious chortle.”
Guin shook her head, smiling at her hostess. “I understand at least that you mean me no harm.”
“Of course I don’t! Oh, you are still puzzling over my motives, are you? Well, they are not at all pure, for I am no philanthropist! Simply put, my dear, you are in the way of being an experiment and a challenge,” said Lady Smythe.
Guin blinked. “I don’t follow you, my lady.”
Lady Smythe sighed. “Really, it is so fatiguing to be forced to explain oneself. I am bored, Miss Holland. You can have no notion how boring society can be when one sees the same faces and goes to the same sort of functions Season after Season. The only relief is to be found in scandal, but I am far too old to become the center of one. Failing that diversion, I decided that taking a nonentity, yourself in fact, and turning her into the toast of the Season could afford me several weeks of amusement.”
Guin turned red. She could not recall ever being so angry in her life. “I am not at all enamored of your scheme, ma’am!”
“Who asked you to be?” asked Lady Smythe with a wicked smile playing about her thin lips. There was an understanding gleam in her eyes. “Oh, I’ve insulted you finely, haven’t I? But perhaps you should look at it in a different way. I am making use of you for my own ends, of course, but I offer you the chance to learn to shine when otherwise you would go your insignificant way. You would undoubtedly end the Season the despair of your mother without a single suitor to your credit.”
Her ladyship’s neat summation gave Guin pause for reflection. She was forced to acknowledge the legitimacy of Lady Smythe’s supposition. It had been abundantly demonstrated that she lacked the background to handle herself well in the social milieu into which she had been thrust. By herself, she did not have the confidence to overcome this crippling drawback. When she thought about Miss Beasely and Lady Beasely, Mrs. Richardson and Lady Smythe, as well as others she had met, Guin knew quite suddenly that she wanted to become just as assured and poised. She didn’t care very much about acquiring a number of suitors, of course, but it would be nice to see a flicker of admiration in a gentleman’s eyes, such as Sir Frederick’s.
“Very well, my lady. I accept the situation as you have outlined it,” said Guin quietly. “What must I do?”
Lady Smythe regarded her for a long moment. “So you have made up your mind?”
“Oh, yes. My uncle told me that your interest in me would prove to be to my advantage, and I quite see that he is right,” said Guin in an even voice.
“The devil he did! I must further my acquaintance with Colonel Caldar. He is obviously a gentleman of perception,” said Lady Smythe. The glimmer of a smile lit her rather cold blue eyes as she looked at her houseguest. “I intend for you to work very hard, Miss Holland. You will not find me an easy taskmistress this fortnight.”
“I am ready, Lady Smythe,” said Guin, drawing in a determined breath.
Guin was to wonder in the next several days if she would have made such a declaration if she had known what she would be subjected to. Morning to evening, there were lessons. Lady Smythe engaged the services of experts she thought essential. A dancing master honed Guin’s twirls and lightness of foot on the dance floor; a refined lady of uncertain origin drilled Guin in all the social graces at table and in the drawing room until she could pour tea or faultlessly place personages in the proper order at a dinner party; a teacher in elocution taught her to project her voice and enunciate clearly so that her naturally soft tones would not be drowned out or sound incoherent. She tumbled into bed every night exhausted by her exertions.
In addition, Lady Smythe directed her personal secretary to guide Miss Holland in the work of addressing invitations and making up lists for decorations and wine and refreshments and engaging an orchestra. In short, Guin found herself taking a pivotal role in organizing the ball that Lady Smythe was sponsoring. It frightened her, but it was all very exciting at the same time.
Lady Smythe was given reports of Miss Holland’s progress by all of the personages who were working so diligently to transform her. Her ladyship was pleased and even a little surprised, for Miss Holland seemed to be driving herself as hard as did any of her teachers.
Colonel Caldar and Lord Holybrooke frequently came to call at Lady Smythe’s town house. Her ladyship said that she knew that they did not come to see her, and after several visits she declared herself on too familiar terms with the two gentlemen to stand on ceremony with them any longer. As often as not Lady Smythe simply began sending down her compliments and allowed her protégée to meet with her family in private. Guin was grateful. There was always news to be exchanged of one another’s doings, and she thought it awkward to do so when Lady Smythe was present, for her ladyship surely could have little interest in what most nearly concerned Guin’s relations.
However, during one visit, Colonel Caldar particularly requested her ladyship’s presence and his news aroused even Lady Smythe’s jaded palate when her ladyship heard it.
Colonel Caldar announced that he was wedding Mrs. Roman by special license. “It is to be a small wedding with just family and a few friends. I wish you to come, Guin. It would make me very happy.”
“Of course I shall come!” exclaimed Guin, leaping up to hug her uncle. “I am not at all surprised, for you and Mrs. Roman have been smelling of nosegays for weeks.”
Colonel Caldar flushed and laughed. He diffidently extended the invitation to Lady Smythe, who promptly declared her intention of being the first to congratulate Mrs. Roman on her good fortune.
“You are a sensible man, Colonel Caldar. There are not many such around,” said Lady Smythe astringently.
Colonel Caldar was made speechless. With great presence of mind, he made a formal bow in acknowledgment. This further endeared him to Lady Smythe, who observed after the colonel had left that she never had liked men who talked in flowing periods.
Since Guin knew that this was a direct reference to Mr. Lloyd, who had also called several times, she giggled. “Yes, dear ma’am! You prefer someone like Sir Frederick, who flirts with you so outrageously!”
Lady Smythe darted a shrewd look at her. “And do you not also prefer Sir Frederick, my dear?”
Guin blushed furiously and replied, with dignity, that she thought there must be some further help she could give to her ladyship’s overworked secretary. Lady Smythe chuckled as her protégée left the room.
It was not Lady Smythe’s intention to keep Guin locked away from society while she was being groomed. Naturally Guin joined her mother’s party whenever that lady wished for her company.
However, since Mrs. Holland’s desire for her daughter’s presence was at most lukewarm, that lady was content enough with the arrangement as it was. Mrs. Holland was enjoying the Season far more than she had coming out as a young miss. Old scandals had in a fair way been forgotten, and the gentlemen were pleasantly inclined to flirtation. Mr. Lloyd, apparently feeling that it was advantageous to his cause, called as often on his prospective mother-in-law as on the lady he had solemnly decided to make his wife.
It was gradually borne in on Guin
that she felt happier and more content than she had ever been in her life. Lady Smythe and those her ladyship had under her were exacting, but Guin was never made to feel stupid. She began to gain more confidence, and it showed in her manner and in the way she carried herself.
In fact, on one of his visits to her, Lord Holybrooke said, “I don’t know what it is, Guin, but you’re changing. And I like what I see.” He swooped over and kissed her on the forehead.
Guin laughed and pushed him away. She was actually very pleased by her twin’s observation. “Thank you, dear brother! Now, unless you wish to drive out with Lady Smythe and me, you must go away so that I can go upstairs and put on my hat.”
“I’m away, then,” said Lord Holybrooke promptly. “Give my regards to her ladyship and tell her that I approve.”
Lady Smythe often drove out in her carriage, with Guin accompanying her, to call on friends. Guin’s manners grew to be very pretty as she spent time with Lady Smythe and her particular cronies. On several occasions Lady Smythe was gratified to be told that her protégée behaved just as she ought. It was not long before vouchers for Almack’s were extended to Miss Holland, and she had made her debut at that august club. In short order, Miss Holland was granted permission by the patronesses to participate in the waltz.
Lady Smythe was too shrewd to neglect Guin’s interaction with the younger set. She was allowed to go for frequent walks with her bosom-bow Miss Beasely or riding with her brother and whatever others could be made up into a party.
Sir Frederick was a frequent caller at Lady Smythe’s town house. At first Guin was somewhat surprised but hesitantly pleased that Sir Frederick was apparently such a close friend of her new mentor. Lady Smythe commented acidly that he was constantly underfoot. However, Guin could not but be glad for it. She could be assured of practicing her latest dance step with Sir Frederick or play off the company manners that Lady Smythe was instilling in her and not feel the least discomfiture. Sir Frederick had always a ready word of encouragement or humorous quip for her. Guin was becoming more and more convinced that she would never meet another gentleman quite like him.