by Dorothy Mack
“Lydia, this is a most improper conversation. I beg you will not continue.”
Lydia giggled mischievously. “I do believe I’ve put you to the blush, Angelica. I sometimes think you are younger than I. I am not the one doing anything improper; that is Mrs. Marberry — and Giles, of course,” she added calmly.
Angelica was in a quandary. Certainly she should change the subject to some unexceptionable topic, but she could not allow Lydia to judge her brother too harshly. She took a deep breath and began carefully, “You know, my dear, after a man has grown accustomed to the constant company and — and the affection of a wife, it is very hard to remain alone. Gentlemen have appetites which women find difficult to understand. Once your brother is married to Lady Barbara, I am sure he will cut the connection, if one does exist, with this Mrs. Marberry and treat Lady Barbara with every consideration. You must not think him a libertine.”
“Oh, I don’t blame him. Women have been setting their caps for him, and matchmaking mamas have been pitchforking their daughters at his head these five years and more. I would not be surprised if it has given him a disgust of our sex. He had no intention of marrying until the question of my come-out arose. It being so awkward that I have no close female relative to sponsor my entrance into society with Aunt Minerva really unable to go the pace, he decided that it had to be marriage.” She added thoughtfully, a little crease appearing between her brows, “It is my belief that he is not in the least in love with Lady Barbara.”
“You must not say that. If he wanted to marry simply to provide you with a chaperone, he could have done it anytime this past year or two. You, yourself, told me Lady Barbara had a great success at her come-out. She must be very lovely, and the viscount, no less than other men, fell a victim to her beauty and charm. It is much more likely that he is head over ears in love with her.”
“You would not think so if you could see them together,” answered Lydia sceptically. “They don’t act in the least like lovers. Giles is punctiliously polite, and Lady Barbara flirts with every man in the room.”
“Well, you know it wouldn’t do for her to sit in his pocket all evening. That is not considered the thing either.”
“You may give over, my dear,” said Lydia dryly, “for you won’t convince me this is a love match. Reserve judgment until you see them together. I wish he were marrying for love. I’d like to see Giles happy again. He was such a wonderful brother when I was a little girl, so gay and laughing. I absolutely adored him. He has changed out of reason since Alicia died. I’d give anything to see him his old self again,” she finished on a hint of a sob.
Angelica gave her hand a quick squeeze, and said as they crossed the street, carefully lifting their skirts, “He seemed greatly changed to me also.”
Lydia was astonished. “You knew Giles before? I thought he engaged you on your cousin’s recommendation.”
Angelica bit her lip again, cursing her wayward tongue. “I can’t really claim acquaintance. We met once ten years ago, when he came to visit my cousin Gervaise. But he is much altered from my memory of him.”
“Ten years ago you must have been no more than a child. How old are you, Angel?”
“Angel?” queried Angelica with raised brows.
“Yes, the name suits you with your silky hair and calm face,” said Lydia with determination. “Do you object violently?”
“No, not in private.” Angelica chuckled reminiscently. “It has been a long time since I heard that. My father was used to call me Angel all the time, and Billy called me Devil.”
“Well, that was too bad of him, for I am quite convinced you never acted the least devilish in your life; you are much too kind.”
Angelica laughed again. “How little you know me, Lydia. Billy and I were forever in a scrape when we were younger, which is why I understand Jenny so well.”
“Well I am going to call you Angel, anyway,” said Lydia, tossing her curls saucily as she climbed up into the barouche which had come to meet them.
Lydia’s words had given Angelica much food for thought, and if the slight scowl on her face was any indication, these thoughts weren’t exactly pleasant as she absently brushed her hair before retiring that night. As usual, after enduring the viscount’s company at dinner, she found herself unable to rid her mind of his image. To give the thing the right name, she was becoming obsessed with the man, she fumed, pulling the brush roughly through a tangle and causing her eyes to smart with the sudden pain.
Again he had been courteous and civil to her, but always with that air of indifference that she found so maddening. Yet, despite this seeming indifference, she felt herself to be always under observation. She tried not to attract his attention because, it must be confessed, that sardonic regard upset her. Why should she care what he thought of her personally, as long as he was satisfied with the way she performed the tasks for which she was hired?
Lydia had described the purple hat at dinner tonight, and he had unexpectedly turned to Angelica, saying dryly, “Accept my devout thanks for your intervention, Miss Wayne,” causing Lydia to pout prettily and bringing an amused gleam to Angelica’s eyes, though for Lydia’s sake she tried to keep her mouth prim. For an instant, she thought there was an answering gleam in his dark eyes, but as on several other occasions it was too fleeting for her to be sure.
Somehow, his cold reserve struck her as more embittered than sad, but perhaps that was how grief took some people. Only with Jenny did he seem human. It must be apparent to the meanest intelligence that he bore a deep affection for his adorable daughter, but even with Jenny this reserve never entirely deserted him. Remembering her own gay, laughing father, always ready to gather her up in his arms, Angelica was moved, not for the first time, by a deep compassion for Jenny. The child had not only lost her mother, but something of her father, too. Thank heavens for Jenny’s basically sunny nature. Another child in such circumstances might not have been able to benefit from the affection of servants and teachers, but Jenny welcomed the world gladly.
Angelica’s thoughts turned toward the unknown Lady Barbara. Hopefully, she would make the viscount so happy that he would once again resemble the lively young man who had rescued her from the lake. Surely Jenny could not fail to benefit from such a change in the atmosphere. Unbidden, Lydia’s pronouncements on the state of affairs between her brother and his fiancée came to mind. One must hope she was mistaken. The giddy Lydia might naturally expect public displays of affection which would be repugnant to persons of greater reserve. She sighed and removed her dressing gown before climbing into bed.
“I’ll know better when I see Lady Barbara,” she murmured sleepily and blew out the candle on her bedside table.
Angelica’s desire to meet Lord Desmond’s betrothed was to be gratified much sooner than she knew. His lordship had already breakfasted and was on the point of leaving the morning room when she entered the following morning. He greeted her formally and seated her, indicating a note beside her plate. She noticed that a similar missive reposed at Lydia’s place and raised questioning eyes to his lordship’s as she broke the wafer.
“It’s an invitation to tea with Lady Barbara,” he said smoothly. “She feels Lydia has been neglecting her lately, and professes herself all eager anticipation to make the acquaintance of one who has, in such a short time, become a valued member of my household.” The words were complimentary to herself, but as usual his lordship’s tone left one in doubt.
To cover her confusion and resentment, she dropped her eyes and slowly read the contents of the pretty little note begging Miss Wayne’s company for tea that afternoon. His fiancée must have given the notes to the viscount sometime last evening, she thought irrelevantly.
“Well?” There was a tinge of impatience in the suave voice. “Will it be convenient for you and Lydia to visit Lady Barbara today? I will do myself the honour of escorting you.”
Angelica accepted gracefully and was spared the necessity of speaking for Lydia by the impetuous entra
nce into the breakfast parlour at that instant of the young lady in question. Lydia never merely entered a room, Angelica thought with affection. She erupted into it, enlivening the dullest gathering with her infectious high spirits.
“Oh, are you off, Giles? Do have another cup of coffee,” she coaxed, dimpling roguishly at her brother while she attacked her breakfast with enthusiasm. “I am persuaded that Angelica would find the exhibition at Somerset House a most educational experience. Do please say you will escort us there this afternoon, dearest Giles.”
Seventeen years’ intimate knowledge of the workings of his sister’s mind left him in no doubt as to her motives in proposing this worthy expedition.
“Made an assignation have you, Lydia?” queried his lordship dryly, while Angelica turned startled eyes toward her. “I’ve never known you so eager to look at paintings before.”
“Well, I am not precisely eager,” she admitted, “but you must see that it is necessary for Angelica to see them. Simply everyone is talking about them.”
“Try another cast, Lydia,” advised her sceptical brother.
“Well,” she confessed meekly, “when we met Priscilla Epworth in Bond Street yesterday, she did mention that her brother was escorting her to the exhibition this afternoon. That does not alter the fact that it will be very instructive for Angelica. I daresay she would enjoy it excessively, would you not, Angel?”
Perceiving the viscount’s lowering stare, Angelica hastily agreed that she would indeed enjoy the exhibition.
“Do please lend us your escort, Giles,” wheedled his unscrupulous sister.
“It grieves me to disappoint Miss Wayne,” said the viscount firmly, “but if you will open the letter at your plate, you will see that it contains an invitation to tea with Barbara.”
Lydia looked at him mutinously for a moment, but as she had not really counted on gulling Giles about the exhibition anyway, she acquiesced with reasonable grace, only adding coaxingly, “If I go and do the polite today, will you take us to Somerset House tomorrow?”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “If you can manage to conduct yourself in a well-bred manner this afternoon, I will be delighted to be your guide to the exhibition tomorrow.” He bade Angelica good morning, tweaked his sister’s hair and left the room.
“Well,” his astonished sister exclaimed on his departure, “that was much easier than I imagined. You must have a mellowing influence on him, Angel.”
Angelica, disclaiming any influence over the viscount, betook herself to the schoolroom where Jenny took full advantage of her abstraction to work on a drawing of one of her dolls instead of the scheduled history lesson.
When the viscount presented himself in the saloon that afternoon, he was greeted by two correct young ladies, delightfully gowned and hatted, but if they felt any great anticipation at the treat in store for them, they managed to conceal it behind polite society faces. Lydia indeed felt none — she had confided to Angelica that Lady Barbara’s conversation consisted of descriptions of the newest additions to her extensive wardrobe and a list of the invitations she received. Angelica, herself, was anxious to meet her future employer, for she would in all probability deal more with Lady Barbara than Lord Desmond in the near future. At the same time, she was experiencing an uncomfortable and quite unfathomable reluctance actually to come face to face with one who would soon be of extreme significance to Lord Desmond — indeed, she assured herself, was already of central importance to the viscount. No doubt this was because, after Lydia’s pronouncement, she feared lest these two should turn out not to be a well-suited couple, which situation would not improve Jenny’s lot. Certainly she had been conscious of a slight heaviness of mood all day.
The weather was deceptively mild for March, and the girls acquiesced willingly to the viscount’s suggestion that they walk the short distance to the Earl of Dorset’s town residence. He offered an arm to each and complimented them on their charming appearance. Indeed, by the time they had arrived at the imposing facade of the earl’s house, the breeze had whipped up the lovely colour in Lydia’s cheeks and had even given a healthy tinge to Angelica’s normally pale countenance. Without Annie’s clever fingers to discipline her heavy hair, Angelica found it necessary to redo her knot several times a day. Although she had waited until just before joining Lydia in the saloon to smooth and re-pin the honey-coloured mass, the playful wind had roughened its appearance and she felt quite dishevelled. She was totally unaware of the appreciative expression in the viscount’s eyes as they noted the heightened colour and lingered on a curling tendril which had escaped its confinement. He waited patiently while she and Lydia removed their pelisses and restored their hair in the room provided, and presently ushered them up the stairs to the countess’s drawing room.
This was a large square apartment with heavy crimson hangings and carpet, providing a perfect foil for the dramatic dark beauty of the young woman engaging in a conversation with a man of polished good looks. An older woman came forward on hearing their steps, but so deeply engrossed was Lady Barbara that she didn’t look up until the butler began to announce them; then, startled, she rose gracefully and went to the viscount with extended hands. He raised them fleetingly to his lips, then performed the introductions. The countess welcomed Angelica politely and smiled upon Lydia, bringing her into the room to meet the other guest who had risen to his feet.
Angelica had been prepared to discover that Lady Barbara was beautiful, nor was she disappointed. Only two years older than Lydia, she possessed in full the assurance that comes with having been feted and toasted as an Incomparable. Exquisitely gowned in deep rose colour, which clung lovingly to a really marvellous figure and set off to perfection her dark brown eyes and darker hair arranged in a dégagée style, she would stand out in any gathering. She greeted Giles in a rather languid manner, then turned the full force of those magnificent eyes on Angelica in a deep scrutiny while he made them known to one another. Angelica bore this with her usual equanimity and took the proffered hand, saying politely, “How do you do? I am happy to meet you, Lady Barbara.”
Lady Barbara smiled dazzlingly and said in a slow drawl which Angelica thought privately was the one flaw in her person:
“I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance, Miss Wayne. Giles has told me how invaluable you have become in taking over Jenny’s education, and, I for one, must thank you for seeing to dear Lydia’s wardrobe for her come-out. I would have been delighted to be of assistance to her if it were not for the circumstance of my own wedding taking place at precisely the same time, necessitating countless shopping trips and fitting sessions.”
Angelica made some polite rejoinder, while wondering what would prevent Lady Barbara from bringing Lydia with her on these shopping expeditions.
“She does you credit, anyway, Miss Wayne,” Lady Barbara continued, smiling sweetly at Lydia who was chattering gaily to the other gentleman in the room. “How sweet and girlish she appears in that charming dress.”
The object of this praise looked anything but gratified to hear herself so described, but after one fulminating glance at her brother, firmly pressed her lips together and remained silent.
“Oh, how gauche of me to have embarrassed you with my compliments, Lydia; pray forgive me,” trilled Lady Barbara. “Miss Wayne, may I present Sir Anthony Haring. Lord Desmond, my fiancé, Sir Anthony.”
The gentlemen bowed, and Sir Anthony expressed his pleasure at making Miss Wayne’s acquaintance.
Here, the countess interposed to explain that Sir Anthony was the son of an old friend of the earl’s and had just returned to England from Brussels after selling out. The two men began to discuss the present situation in France, while the countess poured the tea which had been borne in on a truly beautiful silver tray. Lady Barbara prettily saw to their needs, pressing them to sample a particularly delicious plum cake which, she said gaily, she had exhorted Cook to bake, knowing what a schoolgirl appetite Lydia possessed. Whether it was the result of this
infelicitous remark or a rather large luncheon, Lydia refused politely to try any of the delicacies offered, contenting herself with tea.
Noting the slightly stubborn set to her friend’s mouth, Angelica mendaciously professed herself delighted to sample the cook’s efforts and turned the subject toward some unexceptional commonplace to divert Lady Barbara, who seemed inclined to pursue the topic of Lydia’s lack of appetite.
The viscount, sitting totally at ease, was wearing his most sardonic expression as he watched the byplay.
Lydia seized the opportunity to break away and asked Sir Anthony if he had as yet seen the exhibition at Somerset House. He replied in the negative, explaining that he had been back but long enough to outfit himself and purchase a matched pair of chestnuts for the high perch phaeton he was having built, but declared himself all eagerness to remedy the deficiency.
“Giles is to escort us there tomorrow,” Lydia said naively.
“Then I shall count on you to tell me which paintings I should most admire,” Sir Anthony put in smoothly, causing Lydia’s dimples to appear as she giggled.
Lady Barbara, who seemed able to keep track of more than one conversation at a time, interposed here in her slow drawl:
“Why don’t we all go to the exhibition together? I have been most eager to see it.”
Sir Anthony jumped into the little silence that followed, declaring, with a warm look at Lady Barbara, that he would be thrilled to have the pleasure of escorting her, and the countess, of course, to view the paintings. The countess thanked him but declined politely due to a prior engagement.
“You have forgotten, my love, that we had planned to go to Wimbledon to visit your grandmother.” On seeing a slight pout forming on her daughter’s lovely face, she declared herself unwilling to spoil Barbara’s pleasure and promised to take her sister in her stead.
Lady Barbara’s expression become all sunshine again. “Then it is settled — we shall all go together to Somerset House.” She engaged Sir Anthony in a discussion of the plans, calling on Giles to agree to a time for meeting. The countess asked Lydia about the plans for her ball, and the young girl, who had not appeared thrilled at the augmentation of the party, brightened and chatted happily away with her hostess.