by Jenna Brandt
“Due to the unforeseen interruption by Lord Blanchard, you arrived late.”
Debbey inhaled sharply as her heart clenched in panic. If Lady Almonbury heard they were late, she would not be pleased. She would be furious if she found out it was because a man had been paying attention to Clara.
“However, I was once young and understand how a handsome face can distract,” she stated with a wink towards Clara. “And do not fret about your mother finding out. I will keep it just between the three of us.”
Debbey relaxed and let out the breath she had been holding. It seemed the duchess was not as focused on appearances as her sister. It was a welcome relief to Debbey.
Three male servants entered the room and held out seats for each of them to sit down. Debbey waited to allow the duchess to sit first as proper etiquette dictated, then took her seat along with Clara.
“I am glad to have this time alone with both of you.”
“Thank you for having us, Your Grace,” Debbey said.
“What did I tell you about being so formal with me,” she reminded. “In public, I understand you needing to be formal, but we are amongst family now. I insist you call me Aunt Beatrice.”
Debbey nodded, then after a few moments, she commented, “Your home is lovely. . . Aunt Beatrice.” It still felt odd to call the duchess by the familiar term, but she wanted to make her happy.
“If truth be told, it is much more home than we need. We hardly use most of the residence since it is just the duke and I who reside here. My husband is often away for extensive periods of time when parliament is in session. I stay out in order to keep myself busy,” Beatrice confessed.
“You need not be alone, Aunt Beatrice. You are always welcome to spend time with us.”
She gave them a wry smile. “I doubt your mother would want me under foot. We are sisters, but in name only. We are not as close as I would like. I hope the two of you will not follow suit.”
Debbey looked across at Clara. “I’ve always wanted a sister. I feel blessed God has seen fit to give me one through my marriage to William.”
The duchess nodded in approval before turning her attention to her niece. “Clara, I know you will not be presented until next year and are therefore limited in what you are allowed to do socially. I will; however, do my best to make your time here in London as enjoyable as properly possible.” She looked at Debbey pointedly. “Which brings me to what I would like to discuss with you, Deborah.”
Debbey stiffened. What did the duchess want to talk with her about? Had she done something improper to upset the older woman? If so, it had not been her intent, but little did that matter. Upsetting the duchess would destroy her chances of having a successful introduction into British society. Not that she cared for herself, but she didn’t want to fail for William’s sake.
“I want this Season to be a wonderful experience for you, Deborah—” Debbey relaxed when she realized it was not a dressing down the duchess was offering. “—And to that end, I am happy to introduce you into society. With the influence my title holds, you will be admitted to all the prestigious and elite social events of the Season. I guarantee you will make a smashing debut.”
“Thank you, Aunt Beatrice,” Debbey responded. “You’re too kind.”
The luncheon passed pleasantly as the women talked about the newest fashions, and the different events they were looking forward to during the Season.
After they finished dessert, the duchess escorted them towards the front of her home. As they approached the door, she ordered, “Will you go ahead to the carriage, Clara? I need to speak with Deborah for a moment.”
Clara did as she was told. Once the door closed behind her, the duchess turned her attention to Debbey. “I want you to know how pleased I am William picked someone like you for his wife. My sister—although I love her—often times cares more about advancing the family than what is best for it.” Beatrice pulled Debbey into a hug as she whispered, “You, my dear, are a breath of fresh air; one that is greatly needed in this family. I will do my best to help you navigate this new world into which you have been thrust.”
Chapter 13
Pall Mall was thick with activity as William stepped under the covering of the Carlton Club, one of the oldest gentlemen’s clubs in all of London. An adaptation of the Sansovino’s Library of St. Mark at Venice, the exterior boasted highly-polished columns and stone walls, creating a rich facade.
William collapsed his umbrella as the doorman held open the front entrance for him. “Good afternoon, Lord Almonbury.”
The last time William had been in the club was four years ago. His father had insisted he accompany him, along with his brother Andrew, who were both regulars at the club. William never felt the need to socialize in such places. In his youth, he tended to gravitate towards gambling halls and taverns. His marriage to Debbey and relationship with God had put an end to those types of outings. He would much rather be at home. Unfortunately, his mother had made it clear he needed to take on all the responsibilities of the Viscount Braybridge, which included making the necessary appearances at all the clubs the family had memberships in.
Once inside, one of the club’s butlers removed William’s outer coat and placed it along with his hat and umbrella on the rack next to the door. “It is good to have you back, Lord Almonbury,” the butler stated.
“Has anything changed since last I was here?” William inquired in jest, knowing the answer before it was given.
“Everything is exactly as it was before you traveled abroad, my lord.”
William forced himself not to smile with amusement. The Carlton butlers were known for their inability to show any emotion, no matter the circumstance. William had spent an entire afternoon heckling one of the butlers when he was seventeen, and never managed to get a rise out of the man.
The interior design was impeccable. The club had a grand central hall with a flight of stairs to the upper levels. The smoking room was at the top of the building, and there was a garden front with a balcony if one wanted to be outside. On the ground level, there was a morning room, library, and a coffee-room.
Laughter echoed down the hall from the coffee room. William moved down the hall and to the left, entering the area. Sitting in several chairs were Lord Blanchard, the Earl of Bunsdure, and the Marquess Seadrick. All three men had a glass of brandy in their hands.
Lord Blanchard looked up with a grin on his face. “Lord Almonbury, we are glad you were able to make it.” He stood up and came over, patting him on the back. “Can I get you a drink?” he offered.
“I am fine for the moment,” William replied.
“Are you certain, Lord Almonbury?” the earl probed. “I know you are partial to port. There is an exceptional bottle at the bar if I am not mistaken.”
He shook his head. “I have curbed my consumption of libations as of late.”
Suspecting the cause, he ridiculed, “Marrying the daughter of a reverend will do that to a person, I suppose.”
The marquess chuckled. “I supposed I should be glad my wife’s family abstains from religious convictions. I do not know what I would do with myself if I was unable to partake of a glass of brandy every now and again.”
“Every now and again?” the earl teased. “More like every night when you can free yourself from the marchioness.”
Lord Blanchard changed the subject by asking, “How is the management of your new title and holdings fairing?”
William shrugged. “I have nothing with which to compare. I have my own holdings I have acquired over the years from several lucrative business ventures. I am taking what I learned from those dealings and applying it to my viscountship.”
“If you need any help, William, I will be more than happy to assist,” the earl offered. “It was an unfortunate turn that you lost both your brother and father in the way you did.”
William looked at the older man, who was one of his father’s oldest and closest confidants. It seemed like there was something
unspoken behind the earl’s words. “Is there something I am unaware of regarding their deaths?” William probed.
The earl, who never seemed to be bothered by anything, squirmed in his seat and averted his eyes. His behavior confirmed to William there was indeed something about his father’s and brother’s death he did not know.
The marquess took a swig of his drink before speaking. “Such an unpleasant way to go, and from such folly, none of us were prepared for it.”
“What are you insinuating?” William asked, growing more upset by the moment.
“Nothing, William,” Lord Blanchard stated. “We realize it is a delicate matter, and after your mother told you the details, you might want to put the circumstances behind the family.”
“My mother never disclosed any details as to what caused their deaths. To what are you referring?”
The earl set his glass down firmly on the side table next to him and looked William directly in the eyes. “Your father and brother had been spending a myriad of nights with the same woman for the past few years.”
“What woman? I was never aware of such happenings?”
“They were discreet,” the earl explained. “Only a handful of us were privy to their dealings with the woman.”
“You keep saying ‘the woman’ as if she has no name. Who is she?”
“She was a . . . great horizontal,” the marquess stated, then added for affect, “a toffer to be exact.”
“Your father and brother, at different times, visited Jane,” the earl confessed. “She started out at a bordello on Marbourough Street but was so good at her job, she shortly made the leap to courtesan.”
“And for their devotion, she repaid them with Venus’s Curse, leading to their untimely deaths,” the marquess added with a tone of regret.
William felt his stomach knot at the revelation both his father and brother were exposed to syphilis by the same woman. The idea that the disease was the culprit for their deaths turned his stomach.
All the men in the room stiffened, adjusted their jackets, and avoided making eye contact. None of them wanted to discuss the subject further.
William excused himself from the room and headed for the latrine as the bile rose in his throat. He was going to be ill.
William could not shake the rotten feeling in the pit of his stomach. He needed to get home where he could spend some time in prayer privately.
Before he could exit the club, Lord Blanchard stopped him. “Lord Almonbury, I wanted to speak with you about a matter.”
“Can the matter wait? I am not feeling myself.”
“Certainly,” a look of disappointment crossed the young man’s face and William immediately felt guilty.
“I suppose I can spare a further moment before I return to Holston House,” William amended.
“I happened by the duchess’s home on my way to the club this afternoon.” William knew where Lord Blanchard lived in town, and William’s aunt’s home was far removed from the most direct route to the club. He suspected the young man happened by on purpose. “Your wife and sister were arriving for luncheon with the duchess at the time. I introduced myself to your lovely wife.”
Wanting him to get to the point, William reminded, “You mentioned a matter you wish to discuss with me.”
“I wanted to discuss your sister, Miss Clara. More specifically, the topic of pursuing a courtship with her.”
William’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. The young man was direct, he would give him that; but at the same time, he was out of bounds doing so.
“She has not even been introduced into society, Lord Blanchard.”
“I am aware. I have it on good authority, the plan is for next year to be her ‘coming out’ Season.”
“You are indeed correct. My father was protective of her and insisted my mother wait until after her sixteenth birthday to make Clara’s debut.”
“Which is why I am broaching the subject with you now. I would like her to enter into her debut with a firm betrothal between us already in place.”
“If I may be blunt, Lord Blanchard, your father is only a baron and with our family title and connections, along with Clara’ dowry, she stands to make an exceptional match with her pick of the men. Why would I agree to remove her chance to do so?”
“I am not trying to sell myself regarding title or assets. I am aware being the heir to a baronship does not place me in at the highest level of potential suitors when courting the sister of a viscount, even with my own family connections and wealth. What I do offer is that I care for Clara deeply and would love and honor her if you would see fit to allow me to court her. I think if you discussed the matter with Clara, she would be amiable to the match.”
“I will take your proposal under consideration. You should realize, with our father’s and brother’s death, even if I were to agree, the announcement of your engagement would have to wait until after a proper mourning period.”
“I am aware and willing to wait whatever time you deem necessary.”
Chapter 14
Debbey’s introduction into society was planned for the first Saturday in April. It was past the two months of seclusion the family was required for mourning. During the time alone, Debbey familiarized herself with the names and titles of all the women who would be in attendance for the tea party the duchess planned for her.
Lady Connally had sent out invitations for the party at her estate. Several of the most influential members of the ton were attending. If it went successfully, Debbey would make a huge splash, guaranteeing her acceptance by the British aristocrats.
Her mother-in-law would not be in attendance. She was expected to remain in mourning throughout the Season, a fact that displeased the widow.
“Are you excited about the party in your honor, my lady?” Lily inquired as she finished placing the last pins in Debbey’s curls.
“I would say I’m more nervous than excited. This is my first official event of the Season, and it will determine whether I’m a social success.”
“I think you will do fine, my lady. You have mastered the art of being a noble woman in no time at all.”
“Thank you, Lily. I appreciate your support.”
Lily went and fetched the dress Clara had helped Debbey pick out for the event; an exquisite dark blue dress with black lace trim and matching gloves and hat. It was still proper mourning attire, but with its cinched waist and bustle, every bit at the top of fashion. Clara promised it would be the perfect outfit for the tea party.
After finishing up her final touches, Debbey made her way down stairs. William appeared from down the hall with an admiring grin. “You look fetching, my love. Are you ready for your big day?”
“I think as I ever will be. I still worry people will find it improper for me to be introduced into society with your father and brother passing only a couple of months prior.”
“You need not worry. We have waited the proper amount of time. Since you married into nobility, you must be introduced into society to keep gossip from circulating.” With a wink, he added in jest, “You do not want the nobles thinking you are hideous, and we are hiding you away?”
“Of course not. I want to do whatever is needed to present as an acceptable wife for you.”
“More importantly, to be presented as the bona fide Viscountess Braybridge,” William stated. With a kiss on the forehead, he affirmed, “You will charm them the way you did me. I expect to hear rumor by nightfall you are the new darling of our social set.”
Debbey hoped William’s prediction was correct. She wanted nothing more than to find a way to fit in with his peers.
William escorted Debbey out and helped her into the carriage before returning inside. Several minutes later, Debbey’s carriage came to a stop in front of the duchess’ estate.
The footman helped her out of the carriage, and then brought her up to the front of the home. He knocked soundly on the door while Debbey smoothed out her dress, and adjusted her hat and gloves, making
sure her attire was on point.
The butler opened the door, allowing Debbey to enter as he said, “Welcome, Viscountess Braybridge.”
He helped remove her cape. He took it, along with her clutch, and placed them in the coat closet next to the front door. She kept her hat atop her head as she knew the duchess planned for the tea party to be in her formal garden.
The butler escorted Debbey through the home to the back veranda doors. He opened them and let her pass through into the most beautiful garden she had ever laid eyes upon.
The green hedges of the garden were perfectly manicured creating intricate swirls. In the center of the garden was a massive fountain with four layers which cascaded down into a pond at the bottom. An artfully arranged table set for twelve was in the center of the veranda looking out on the gardens.
“What do you think?” Debbey heard the duchess ask from behind her.
Debbey turned to find Lady Connally approaching with a large smile on her face.
“You have outdone yourself, Aunt Beatrice. I cannot believe you did all of this for me,” Debbey stated with awe.
“Do not be silly, Deborah. You are family, and I hope to make this day wonderful for you.”
Slowly, the guests started to enter the garden. First to arrive was the Marchioness Seadrick along with her daughter, Lady Chloe, recently married to the Earl of Devonshire. Next, entered Lady Blanchard, wife to the Baron Stiltmore, and her daughter, Lady Elizabeth. Two more countesses, two viscountesses, and one more baroness arrived, all elite members of the ton and influencers of the aristocrats of England. Last to arrive was Lady Madeline, the Earl of Bunsdure’s daughter.
The ladies took their seats around the elegantly decorated table full of gold, crystal, and flowers. Each of the women were perched on the chairs, sitting in pristine positions, allowing their perfectly tailored dresses and jewelry to be on display.