“It has been a while since I was”—he couldn’t force out the word home, so he opted for a different ending—“in Lindsworth. What brings you to London?” He addressed the question to Mrs. Banbury, as was proper.
“The girls are older now, and we thought it wise to make certain they are known to Society and acquainted with Town and the whirl.”
That made perfect sense. He did not, however, see the older Banbury sister. “Has Miss Banbury come to Town as well, then?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Banbury said. “The younger sister cannot be out if the older sister is not.”
“Has she made her bows, then?” Based on age, Angelina ought to have had her first Season a year or two ago, but he hadn’t seen the family in London before.
Quite to William’s surprise, Mrs. Banbury grew visibly panicked. Over so innocuous a question?
Felicity answered on her mother’s behalf. “Angelina’s health is poor, I am afraid. We have not come to Town for a formal Season.”
“Her condition is nothing too serious, I hope.”
Though the ladies smiled, the strain in their eyes told a different story. His memory of the older Banbury sister was that of a quieter, more fragile version of the younger. They’d ever been two very devoted peas in a pod.
He indicated the ladies ought to continue down the park path. He kept to Felicity’s side. Reliable friend that he was, Leonard walked at Mrs. Banbury’s side, making quiet conversation.
“How ill is Angelina?” William asked Felicity in a quiet voice. “Your mother seemed intent on downplaying the situation, but I suspect it is of greater concern than she let on.”
Some of Felicity’s characteristic optimism faded. “She is quite ill, I am afraid.”
“Is she to see a doctor while she is here?” It was one of many things he wished his parents had done when they’d grown unexpectedly and seriously ill.
“She has been seen by six doctors already, and they are all in agreement about the direness of her situation.” Felicity took a slow breath, the sound and gesture filled with both worry and determination. “Angelina longed for a Season. She hasn’t the strength for a true one, but I mean to see to it that she is able to do as many of the things she dreams of as possible.”
There was a bleakness to the explanation that worried him. Though he’d not been home in years nor interacted with the Banbury sisters in all that time, he still cared for them. His heart dropped thinking of Angelina so ill and Felicity, no doubt, weighed down by worry.
“If I can be of any assistance, please tell me. I have a great deal of experience with the Season. I might be able to help you make arrangements for whatever Angelina wishes to do or help you gauge how taxing it might be.”
Felicity smiled up at him. “Thank you. I want to make this special for her, but I know so little of the social whirl.”
Her smile warmed him. He’d nearly forgotten what a sweet friend she’d been when they were young. He’d missed those connections in the years he’d been away. Few of the things he associated with home this past half decade weren’t painful. Yet seeing Felicity again proved entirely pleasant.
After they parted ways with the Banbury ladies, Leonard wasted not a moment before peppering William with questions. “Why have you never mentioned these particular neighbors? Do you mean to see them again during their time in Town? Do you suppose they will join us in our nefarious plans to offend all the unforgiving dragons of Society?”
William nodded firmly. “If Miss Felicity is unchanged from the time I knew her, she would join in a heartbeat. Her older sister would likely struggle to say an unkind thing about anyone but would find tremendous humor in watching her sister be ridiculous.”
“You are fond of these sisters.”
“I am. It is good to see them again.” He found himself eager about the coming few weeks, something he would not have thought possible a few hours ago.
He had this tiny connection to the home that felt so distant—a safe and comforting connection, one that didn’t require him to face more ghosts than he was ready to stare down. He was grateful for it.
Chapter Three
The fates were smiling on Felicity two days later when she accompanied Angelina to Gunter’s. A table sat empty near the shop windows, affording them a view of Berkeley Square and the various pedestrians passing by. They were comfortable, entertained, and experiencing the famous tea and ices shop at its best.
Angelina had not stopped smiling since their arrival. Mother looked utterly terrified, as she had from the moment the traveling coach had dropped them in London. Felicity was able to worry less about her mother’s displeasure because she took such delight in Angelina’s happiness.
“This is just as lovely as I’d hoped,” her sister whispered, eyeing their spread of victuals with excitement. “And to see everyone passing by and the park in the distance . . . I feel almost as though I am having a ride through Hyde Park as well.”
A ride in Hyde Park. Felicity made a mental note. She already knew her sister longed for that very traditional part of the Season, but to hear her mention it again reinforced the need to make that arrangement soon.
“William Carlisle is in Town,” Felicity told her sister. “He likely has a carriage. Perhaps he would take us for a ride during the fashionable hour.”
“After your display,” Mother said, “I have my doubts he will wish to be seen with any of us.”
Angelina turned to Felicity with a look of alarm.
Felicity assumed her most unconcerned expression. “I was, perhaps, more familiar than I ought to have been when I first saw him. Old habits are difficult to shed, after all.”
“And we haven’t seen him very much since he first left for Eton,” Angelina said. “It is sometimes difficult to remember how much older he is now—how much older we all are.”
“You are nearly twenty years old,” Felicity said. “Ancient, really.”
“I can take some comfort in knowing I am unlikely to grow even more ancient.” Angelina had the sometimes relieving, sometimes disconcerting tendency to jest about her illness and the expected outcome.
Mother always seemed to appreciate it. She would smile and squeeze Angelina’s hand. Though Felicity wasn’t entirely certain why, that response always surprised her. She would have assumed Mother would not have found the macabre humor to her liking.
“Some of us simply choose not to acknowledge the passing of the years,” Mother said. “In case you are unsure, I would far prefer you avoid growing ancient by refusing to count beyond nineteen.”
“I would prefer that as well,” Angelina said.
“As would I,” Felicity added with emphasis. “And I would also prefer if I were permitted to eat all six of these petits fours and not share a single one with either of you.”
She reached for the tiny confections.
“I have seen woodcuttings of pugilist bouts,” Angelina said. “I feel I am quite capable of fighting you over this.”
“At your advanced age?” Felicity asked doubtfully.
Amid their quiet laughter, a shadow fell over the table. All three looked up at the same time.
“William.” Felicity didn’t catch herself quickly enough to prevent the slip in propriety. “Mr. Carlisle,” she corrected too late.
Mother, predictably, looked utterly mortified.
“Ladies.” William dipped his head, then turned his full attention to Angelina. “Miss Banbury. I was so delighted when your sister told me you had come to Town as well. It is, indeed, a pleasure to see you again.”
“And I you. Lindsworth has been lonelier without you these past years.”
His eyes dropped, and his mouth pulled, not in anger or frustration, but in what looked like sadness. “I have missed Lindsworth. We had a great many happy days there, didn’t we?”
Angelina’s smile was tender. “We did, indeed.”
“Do join us,” Mother said, indicating the empty chair at their table.
“I belie
ve I will.” He sat with every indication of pleasure.
“I should warn you,” Felicity said. “Angelina has threatened us bodily if we take more than our share of the petits fours. If you prefer your bones unbroken, I suggest you not set your heart upon overindulging.”
With a silent laugh, he looked at Angelina once more. “You wouldn’t pummel me over a dessert, would you?”
“I most certainly would.” She lifted her fists in an impression of a pugilist, though the picture was rendered less than threatening by the weakness apparent in the shaking of her arms.
“I shall have my obituary sent to the Times forthwith, though I intend to leave out any information about the cause of death. One mustn’t go to one’s grave having been brought to that state over pastries. How humiliating.”
Felicity had all but forgotten how humorous William could be. The three of them had spent a good amount of their childhood laughing together at each other’s ridiculousness. He would make a very welcome addition to the miniature Season Felicity was attempting to provide for her sister.
They spent a pleasant quarter hour speaking both of childhood memories and the diversions of London. William was quick to redirect the conversation at any suggestion of his taking up residence at Carlisle Manor. Did he prefer London so very much?
“Which of London’s amusements have you indulged in thus far?” he asked them after yet another diverting of the topic.
“We walked in the garden square a few times,” Mother said.
That was hardly a pleasure unique to Town.
Felicity took up the topic. “We visited a dressmaker and are each to have a new, fashionable gown made.”
“Excellent,” William said. “What else?”
“We are enjoying tea at Gunter’s,” Angelina added. “I have always wished to do precisely this.”
“What else have you wished to do?” His gentle tone told Felicity he had not forgotten the state of Angelina’s health.
“Several things,” Angelina said. “We thought perhaps to go to Hyde Park and join the crush there, but I haven’t enough stamina left today for anything else.”
William looked at Mother. “Would you object if, on some future day when Miss Banbury is feeling well enough, I offered to fetch your daughters in my carriage for a ride in the park during the fashionable hour?”
Mother’s brow pulled. “Felicity is not out. We would not wish to give the impression that she was.”
He nodded. “I appreciate your care for propriety. I assure you, her being in the carriage for a ride, along with her sister, will not give the impression you fear.”
Relief touched Mother’s eyes. “We do not wish anyone to think we are scandalous or worthy of being cut.”
“If it would set your mind at ease, I can use the carriage that seats four and you can come as well.”
Mother shook her head. “I do not believe that will be necessary. Both girls together in an open carriage will not be seen as inappropriate. If you feel no one will assume we have permitted a younger sister to be out before the elder is married, then that eases my concerns.”
“You need only have your father send word when you are feeling equal to a drive,” William told Angelina. “I am entirely at your disposal.”
“Thank you,” she said. “It will truly be a dream come true.”
He shook his head. “You might change your assessment after you experience my stodgy driving. I am not one of those Corinthians who drives neck or nothing.”
“My only requirement is that you not overturn us,” Angelina said.
“That I can promise you.”
Mother monopolized Angelina’s attention after that, discussing the appropriate clothing choice for a drive in the park, whom she might see, and how to appropriately address those she might speak with.
Felicity leaned toward William. With her voice lowered, she said, “Thank you for your generous offer. Riding in the park with Father would have pleased Angelina, but riding alongside a dashing young gentleman will certainly be closer to what she had envisioned before . . . before this illness.”
“She is more hale and hearty than I’d expected based on what you said before.”
Felicity sighed. “She hides it well, but look at her eyes. You can see the illness there.”
“It is certain, then, that she will not recover?”
“Quite.”
True regret touched his face. She had known William as a convivial boy. She was pleased to be meeting the compassionate gentleman he had become.
“Thank you, also, for inviting me to join your drive. I so wish to be part of Angelina’s time in London.”
“Of course,” he said. “And I meant what I said when last we met: if there is anything else I might do to assist your efforts at bringing your sister a bit of joy, do tell me. I wish to help.”
“She mentioned last evening that she wished to attend a ball. I cannot imagine she would have the energy for a true crush, and I do not think she could actually participate in the dancing, but I would love for her to go to one. Can you think of any balls that might not exhaust her, ones that we might manage to secure an invitation to?”
He didn’t immediately respond. His mouth pulled to one side. His eyes narrowed though he didn’t appear to be looking at anything in particular.
“If any come to mind, do let me know. I am too unacquainted with London Society to have the first idea.”
“There is one at the end of the week that fits your description,” he said. “I know the host relatively well. I believe if I ask, they will be quite happy to include your sister and parents.”
She nodded despite her disappointment. How she wanted to be there for Angelina’s longed-for ball, but she understood. She was not yet out socially. To attend a ball would be an impermissible flouting of Society’s rules and expectations. Mother would never allow it. And Felicity didn’t wish to cause difficulties for her sister during so delicate and important an undertaking.
Chapter Four
Mr. Banbury chose not to attend the Crawfords’ ball. When William secured the family an invitation, he hadn’t planned on accompanying Mrs. Banbury and Angelina personally, but he could not shake from his heavy mind the illness that had been apparent in his dear friend’s eyes nor the heartbreak he’d seen in Felicity’s face. This ball would be a quieter one, perfect for Angelina’s limited endurance. He could not deny her the opportunity to fulfill such a simple wish.
“This is lovely.” Angelina hadn’t stopped smiling since their arrival some thirty minutes earlier. She certainly had not perfected, nor seemed the tiniest bit interested in, Society’s preferred appearance of boredom at such events. “Thank you again, William, for bringing us.”
As only they were privy to this comment, even her mother being occupied with a conversation elsewhere, he felt no need to correct her informal address.
“It is my very real pleasure, Angelina. I only wish Felicity could have come as well.” He meant it sincerely. “Not only would she enjoy the ball, I believe she would prove quite entertaining. I am, of course, assuming she hasn’t changed too drastically since we were children.”
Angelina laughed lightly. “She no longer climbs trees but otherwise is not fundamentally changed. She has more energy than anyone I have ever known. She dearly loves to laugh, is never intimidated by a challenge, and is the most loyal of friends.”
That was, indeed, the Felicity he remembered. “It must be difficult for her to be left behind while you participate in the whirl.”
A look of pondering crossed her features. “I suspect it is more frustrating than she lets on. But I also believe she is genuinely pleased I am having these little adventures. Mother and Father wouldn’t agree to any of it unless she vowed not to make the slightest foray into Society.”
“And she agreed to that?” He wasn’t surprised at her willingness, simply at the requirement. While, generally, a younger sister didn’t come out before the elder, some exceptions were made. Angelina�
�s circumstances would certainly warrant it.
“You know how she is,” Angelina said.
“I know how she was,” he answered. “Forever wanting to be in charge. Shockingly funny.”
Angelina smiled. “She is still quite funny. And assertive when she needs to be.”
“You do not still find her overbearing?”
“That is difficult to say. I can take charge of so little anymore. Mother is unaware of so much. Father keeps himself distant. I don’t know how much of Felicity’s dictatorial tendencies is a matter of character and how much is a matter of necessity.”
The musicians struck the opening notes of a country dance. Angelina had not danced since their arrival. No one had asked, though he wasn’t certain that was the reason.
“Would you like to stand up with me?” he asked.
“I would very much like to,” she said, “but I know my lack of endurance too well to believe for even a moment that I could.”
He had feared that was the case. “Do you feel equal to a turn about the room?”
“In all honesty, I am not certain I am equal to anything other than remaining seated right here where I am.” Her shoulders drooped. “Indeed, I would be very much surprised if I am able to postpone my departure for home much longer.”
You can see it in her eyes. Felicity’s words repeated in his mind. He could indeed see there what Angelina kept so well hidden: exhaustion.
“My dear friend,” he said gently, “do not feel you must remain on my behalf, neither do I think your mother would begrudge you an early departure.”
She laced her fingers, resting them on her lap. Hers was a posture of calm serenity, but once more, her eyes revealed her. Disappointment and frustration had joined the weariness there. “I am finally attending a ball—something I’ve dreamed of for ages—and I haven’t the energy to dance or remain for supper. I am trying very hard not to feel defeated.”
“Consider it from this perspective: against the odds stacked so high against you, you have come to a ball and participated in the social whirl. Perhaps your time at this ball was shorter than you’d like and you did not do as much as you wished, but you came. That is not defeat, Angelina. That is triumph.”
An Evening at Almack's Page 17
