by Gayle Buck
Miss Mays might be another thing altogether. Lady Mays was obviously fond of the young woman, and perhaps she could be counted upon to settle a nice tidy dowry on Miss Mays upon the announcement of her engagement. Certainly the diffident Miss Mays would be easier to mold into the epitome of what Lady Bishop considered to be the proper wife. Lady Mays displayed a lamentable lack of malleability. Lady Bishop had not missed that flash of temper in her ladyship’s eyes when she had merely remarked that she could possibly offer Miss Mays a place. She must tread carefully with Lady Mays, for she did not wish to put her ladyship’s back up. Not when there was a possibility of snaring a suitably dowered wife for her unfortunate brother.
Lady Bishop’s plump face became wreathed in smiles. “You must include Miss Mays in any invitation of mine to you and your companion. In fact, pray do bring her to my little ball next week. I shall exert myself to see to her enjoyment.”
“That is most gracious of you, my lady,” said Lucinda, resisting the temptation to grimace. Really, the woman was patently false in her assurances of friendly concern.
The lady nodded grandly and passed on to speak to another acquaintance.
Lady Sefton came up and claimed Lucinda’s attention. “Whyever did you not tell me how beautifully that child played?”
“I did not know it until this evening,” Lucinda confessed.
“Such exquisite ability goes far in redeeming her lamentable lack of conversation. But you and Miss Blythe shall do something about that, I know,” said Lady Sefton.
“We hope to, my lady,” said Lucinda.
Lady Sefton nodded, satisfied. “Now come. I wish to take you around in the event there are some who do not precisely recall who you are. You were on the town such a short time and people quickly forget.”
“That is true,” said Lucinda, smiling. She allowed herself to be gently squired by her hostess round the gathering. Though there were some curious glances at her face and attire, there were none who did not prove themselves gracious in their words.
One of those that Lady Sefton introduced Lucinda to was the Countess of Pembroke. “This is one of my dearest of friends, Lady Pembroke. You may perhaps recall Lady Mays, my dear. She came out four years ago, the same year that Waterloo was fought.”
The Countess of Pembroke looked keenly at Lucinda as she gave the younger woman her hand. “Yes, I recall you. The child bride of that impossible rake, Mays. I felt for you, my dear. But one must not pass judgment upon the dead, must one? Come, sit beside me. I would like to talk with you.” Perceiving that Lucinda had fallen into good hands. Lady Sefton moved away to her other guests.
Chapter Twenty-one
Lucinda thanked the countess and seated herself beside her on the settee. She awaited the countess’s pleasure.
The Countess of Pembroke regarded Lucinda with a quizzical smile. “I noticed that you enjoyed talking with my son at dinner.”
“Yes, I did, my lady. Lord Pembroke is an amusing table partner,” said Lucinda.
The countess gave the quick laugh that Lucinda had already recognized as characteristic of both her and her son. “I’ll warrant that he is. I know Hector very well. As usual, he has got up a flirtation with the loveliest young woman in attendance this evening.”
“Thank you for the compliment, my lady,” said Lucinda. She smiled even though she disliked the moniker. After the disillusionment of her marriage, she had a positive aversion to being reminded of her looks. “I have not minded Lord Pembroke’s attention in the least. I find him easy to converse with.”
The Countess of Pembroke nodded as though she found nothing unusual in that. She looked curiously at Lucinda. “You wasted little time in returning to London after your bereavement, Lady Mays. However, I suppose that is scarcely surprising in itself. I did not like Mays.”
“Lord Mays unfortunately did not enjoy a reputation for geniality,” said Lucinda quietly.
The countess smiled, her eyes taking on a knowing expression. “You probably did not care for him either.”
“My lady!” Lucinda was shocked by the lady’s forthrightness. Though there had been various anglings from others about this very thing, none had made so bold as to state it so baldly.
The countess raised her thin brows. “I am correct, am I not?”
Lucinda was silent for a moment as she regarded the other’s lined face. There was nothing of the inquisitive air of the gossip about the countess’s expression. The answer to her question was merely something of interest to the lady herself.
Lucinda decided that she could dare a measure of honesty with this formidable woman. She shrugged. “Lord Mays worshipped beauty. He was never in love with me. Nor, I suspect, with any other woman. We live, we breathe, we only look our best straight out of the hands of our dressers.”
“Ah.” The Countess of Pembroke nodded. “A pretty disillusionment for a young, ignorant girl. And now you have returned to London, only a little older but quite a bit wiser. To what purpose, my lady? Have you in mind to wed again?”
“I wish to entertain and to be entertained, ma’am. That is why I have returned to London,” said Lucinda with a polite but cool smile.
“Perfectly understandable. Your exile was long and undoubtedly dull,” said the countess. She smiled at Lucinda, giving her a gentle tap with her fan. “And you much resent a perfect stranger prying into your affairs. Very proper, I assure you.”
“It was not my intent to offend you, my lady,” said Lucinda, her manner a little stiff.
The Countess of Pembroke gave her quick laugh. “No offense has been taken, my dear. On the contrary, I like you the better for that standoffish air of yours. However, you must not think that I am making idle conversation with these rather pointed observations. No, I do have a purpose behind my questions. As you have seen, my son is an amusing fellow. He is quite willing to embark upon any number of flirtations, but his heart is never engaged. Does this disappoint you?”
“Not in the least,” said Lucinda, smiling. “I like his lordship better for it. I, too, am heart-free, and I am determined to remain so. As I have already told you, ma’am, I did not return to London to snare myself another husband. I am well situated and content with my lot. If Lord Pembroke wishes to engage me in a friendly flirtation, why, I can have no possible objection.”
“I find that I quite like you, Lady Mays. You are exceptionally frank and without pretension.” The countess raised her brows in inquiry. “I suspect that you are also as honest with yourself, so that if your feelings underwent a change toward any particular gentleman, you would certainly be aware of it?”
“So I should hope, my lady!” said Lucinda, laughing.
The Countess of Pembroke nodded. Fiddling with the sticks of her fan, she said slowly, “What I have seen of you, Lady Mays, I approve. I think that given time we could become friends.”
Lucinda wondered what purpose this extremely odd conversation could possibly have. “Thank you, my lady. Your expression of approval is naturally flattering.”
“I should like to have grandchildren before I am too old to enjoy them, and so I have told my undutiful son.” The countess looked up to fix a surprisingly bright gaze on the startled younger woman. “Lady Mays, if you should begin to contemplate remarriage, pray do not allow any scruples to hinder you where my son is concerned. You may set your cap at him with my goodwill. It would do Hector a world of good to be the object of a determined, honest woman’s affection.”
Lucinda stared for a long moment at the countess. She was absolutely stunned by that lady’s calm and extraordinary statements. At last she found her voice. “I do appreciate your favor, my lady. I shall remember what you have said, believe me.”
“That is all one can ask,” interjected the countess quickly.
Lucinda smiled. “However, I must tell you once more that I do not intend to wed again, for I, too, enjoy the same light flirtations as Lord Pembroke.”
“What a pity. You and Hector would have made such a han
dsome pair,” said the countess in a suddenly indifferent voice. She appeared to lose complete interest in the topic and introduced a subject of quite generic proportions.
Lucinda responded suitably to the countess’s gambit, relieved that the personal nature of their conversation was apparently at an end. But she could not completely put out of her head the extraordinary nature of their discourse, and she was glad when another lady claimed the Countess of Pembroke’s attention. Lucinda excused herself gracefully and moved away to mingle with some of the other ladies.
Not many more minutes passed before the gentlemen entered the drawing room. The remainder of the evening passed in a pleasant fashion, and when at last Lucinda and her companions returned to Mays House, it was quite late.
Miss Mays expressed herself to be overwhelmed by the experience. “I was never more nervous in my life. All of those people and how they stared at one!” Miss Mays realized that she had not sounded appreciative of the treat. Anxious that she should not be thought ungrateful, she said hurriedly, “But it was lovely just the same, my lady. Thank you so much for taking me.”
“I am glad that you enjoyed it, Agnes. Now do go up to bed, for you are practically asleep on your feet,” said Lucinda. Her sister-in-law agreed that she was very tired, and she went away upstairs at once to bed.
Lucinda and Miss Blythe retired to the drawing room to take tea and to talk over the soiree. Inevitably, much of their discussion centered on Miss Mays.
“I was never more surprised than when Miss Mays sat down at the pianoforte and played as well as she did,” said Miss Blythe. “I heard a number of compliments, even some of the gentlemen going so far as to express themselves pleased. We really must do something to encourage Miss Mays with her music.”
“Quite. It is virtually the only thing at which Agnes shines,” said Lucinda. “But she did look surprisingly well tonight, don’t you think?”
“Yes, most becoming. However, it must be admitted that Miss Mays’s appearance is not going to do the trick. She hasn’t the vivacity nor is she in the admired style of beauty. I was thinking that we should hold a musicale, Lucinda. That at least will highlight her major accomplishment,” said Miss Blythe.
“The very thing, Tibby. We shall certainly do so,” said Lucinda.
“It will be a start in the right direction, in any event,” said Miss Blythe on a sigh.
“Oh, we shall do better than that for her, I assure you! Lady Sefton was quite taken with Agnes’s story. What do you think? She has promised to send her vouchers for Almack’s,” said Lucinda triumphantly.
Miss Blythe smiled. Her eyes gleamed with appreciation. “Oh, my dear! Nothing could be better. Almack’s is just in the sedate style that will most suit Miss Mays.”
“That is what Lady Sefton said,” said Lucinda.
“Lady Sefton is a wise woman. Now, what of you, Lucinda? I noticed that the Countess of Pembroke kept you beside her for some minutes. I am curious to hear what you found to discuss with her ladyship,” said Miss Blythe.
“Oh, the entire evening was the most extraordinary thing, Tibby!” exclaimed Lucinda. “Do you recall when I told you how Lord Pembroke had nearly knocked me down in front of the Lending Library? His lordship was bold enough to claim my acquaintance on that account alone. I could see that Lady Sefton thought it all rather shocking but somewhat amusing, too.”
“That was bold, indeed,” said Miss Blythe. “It must have been very pleasant for you to have such a gallant gentleman for your dinner partner.”
“I enjoyed it hugely. Lord Pembroke had me laughing a number of times. He is such a jokester that one can never take anything he says in a serious vein,” said Lucinda. “But that was not the singular experience of the evening.”
“Wasn’t it, my dear? I had rather thought it was,” said Miss Blythe, sounding almost disappointed.
“But just listen, Tibby. Lady Pembroke has taken a fancy to me. Moreover, she told me that I could ‘set my cap’ at Lord Pembroke with her goodwill!” said Lucinda. “What do you think of that?”
“It would never do,” said Miss Blythe decisively.
“That is just what I thought. I gently let the countess know, in the politest fashion that I possibly could, of course, that I really was not interested in wedding again,” said Lucinda.
Miss Blythe was exhibiting a flattering attention to every word. “And how did her ladyship take that?”
Lucinda turned out her hands in an expressive gesture. “She suggested that I might one day tire of the sort of light flirtations that Lord Pembroke regularly engages in and that I might wish to make a determined push for her son. She told me also, quite bluntly, that she desires grandchildren and that his lordship and I would make a handsome pair! Tibby, I scarcely knew where to look or what to say. I was never more glad than when Mrs. Connagher claimed her attention and I could slip away.”
“I can readily believe it,” said Miss Blythe. “How very disconcerting, to be sure. But I am certain that you will be able to put it out of your head, for I doubt that Lady Pembroke will importune you again in such a way. She did not strike me as an empty-headed sort that will keep striking the same discordant note.”
“No, indeed! Quite the contrary, in fact,” agreed Lucinda. “She is as put together as she can be. There is not the least hint of flightiness about her, whatever odd conversations she may take it into her head to indulge.”
It struck Lucinda suddenly that her companion did not seem the least bit disappointed that she had turned down Lady Pembroke’s proposal so flatly. “Tibby, you have surprised me. I quite thought that you would be excited that Lady Pembroke had distinguished me with such flattering attention, and appalled that I had responded as I did. I know what a romantic you are! You still harbor hopes of my being swept off my feet by some well-born gentleman.”
Miss Blythe chuckled. “My dear, do grant me some understanding. It is well known that a courtship prospers best when there is some resistance to it. The very fact that Lady Pembroke made such a suggestion to you quite effectively quashes any possible attachment between you and Lord Pembroke! It would be foolish of me to fly in the face of an established principle.”
Lucinda looked at her companion for a long moment. She shook her head. “I do not know whether I should thank you or scold you. How can you say that I should not ever attach Lord Pembroke simply because his mother approves of me? I have never heard anything so nonsensical in my life.”
“It is quite true, I assure you. Only recall Romeo and Juliet,” said Miss Blythe composedly. “Regretfully, we must cross Lord Pembroke off the list of eligibles for you. It is a pity, but there it is.”
“What list?” asked Lucinda, looking hard at her companion.
Miss Blythe’s suddenly guilty expression made Lucinda exclaim. Half laughing, half exasperated, she said, “Tibby! Pray do not tell me that you have actually got up a list of eligibles!”
“It is not that, precisely,” said Miss Blythe.
“Why, how perfectly monstrous of you, Tibby, especially when I told you that I did not want your matchmaking schemes woven about me! It is all right for Agnes, but certainly not for me!” said Lucinda.
“I have not woven any schemes, Lucinda. The very idea that I should go against your express wishes! My dear! I hope that you may trust me better than that,” exclaimed Miss Blythe indignantly. Two bright spots of color had risen into her face.
Lucinda saw that she had truly offended her old preceptress. “I am sorry, Tibby. I did not mean to insult you. But if you are not thinking up schemes to get me married off, what is this nonsense about a list of eligibles?”
Miss Blythe’s indignation became tinged by the guilty look. “I was making up a list of possibles for Miss Mays, which is perfectly in agreement with what we had spoken about earlier, if you will recall.”
“Yes, of course. But what has that to do with me?” asked Lucinda.
Miss Blythe sighed. “Forgive me, my dear. Engaged in such an exercise, my th
oughts quite naturally turned to you. So I jotted down a few names for you, as well.”
At Lucinda’s groan, Miss Blythe made haste to reassure. “It is nothing for you to be upset over, Lucinda. It was simply for my own private speculation and enjoyment. I have no intention of actually doing anything with it. I shan’t even show it to you so that you will not be made self-conscious when you should come face-to-face with one of the gentlemen.”
“Oh, dear. I never thought of that,” said Lucinda, appalled. “How shall I face any of the gentlemen who have made themselves known as my admirers? I shall be constantly wondering which of them has earned a place on your infamous list of eligibles!”
“Pudding-heart,” said Miss Blythe bluntly. She chuckled at Lucinda’s shocked and affronted expression. “Yes, I can see that you are put out with me, my dear. But really, is it so bad as all that? Will you take the knocker off of your door merely because you have discovered that I have a preference for one or other of your admirers? Come, Lucinda! I hope that I know you better than that!”
Lucinda laughed. “I think that you do, indeed, Tibby. You are quite right. I have every intention of staying in London, list of eligibles or not.”
“Good, for I have been thinking that we must make a bit of a push with Miss Mays. She is far too retiring in company,” said Miss Blythe.
“Yes, it is quite noticeable,” said Lucinda, frowning. “It is bad enough that she has no conversation with the ladies, but if a gentleman chances to smile in her direction, she actually gives the impression that she will transform into a bolting rabbit.”