The Lost Love of a Stunning Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Chapter 11

  London

  Winter 1815

  “There is simply no way out of it, Maman. To not attend would be the height of insulting behaviour. That kind of thing is just not done. They are our neighbours if nothing else. Providing your wish that I marry Duke Hertford comes true, I will become a member of the peerage. And that membership comes with many rules. Rules of social etiquette. It is the perfect atmosphere in which to learn deception, self aggrandisement and hypocrisy.”

  “For shame, Mimi. How dare you speak to me so.” Marie tilted her head as Giselle created more curls for her new chignon. “I like this hairstyle, Giselle. I may need your assistance more now that I’ve discovered it.” She smiled at the maid.

  “As you wish, Madame.”

  After her time at the dance a few months prior, Giselle had seemed to be walking on clouds. Mimi was concerned. Was it Hertford, or Richard who had charmed her? Or any other one of the dandies that had been in attendance vying with each other for a dance with the mystery girl they’d found in their midst. It would never do for Giselle to fall in love with any of them. She was a servant. A much loved confidante and friend, but a servant, nonetheless. She’d been unusually quiet, as far as talking to anyone, since the morning after the party. She passed the days with work, a glint in her eye and a song on her tongue.

  “Maman. We absolutely must attend the Warrens’ party for Richard. I know you want to break ties with them, but you cannot allow yourself to give in to petty dictates. Please. They are our friends. You must attend.”

  “Fine, mon petit chou. I will go.”

  Mimi let out the breath of air she’d been holding. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it? We will be leaving in about an hour. Giselle, please come to me as soon as you are finished with Maman’s hair. I need just a simple chignon and help getting into my ball dress.”

  “Attendez, Mimi, I will be leaving in less than an hour.”

  “What do you mean, Maman? You’re not going to wait for me? Will Jones come back for me? I can’t go to the party unchaperoned. I would think you would be aware that that is not done. You are not making any sense.”

  “Oh but I am, dear girl. I have a wonderful plan. You are going to feign illness. Social etiquette can never prove that you were not too ill to attend the Lieutenant’s welcome home party.”

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, Maman. Why would I pretend to be ill?”

  “Is it really so ridiculous, mon ange? I want you to keep yourself available for Duke Hertford. Or someone. Someone other than Richard Warren. Someone with a title or at least twelve thousand a year. The Warrens are low end middle class, my dear. Trades people. We’re trying to break out of that sector of society. You need to be aware of what people will say if we are both there at the party. They’ll say I’m pushing you towards the Lieutenant. I do not wish for you to be seen reliving fond childhood memories with young Richard Warren. You need to cut the ties, do you understand?”

  Mimi glared at her mother. “And suppose the Duke is at the party, Maman? He and Mr Warren have some friends in common. You know? I dare say they know each other from the club.” Mimi looked down, a mischievous smile playing around her lips.

  “I hadn’t thought of that. It wouldn’t do for you to be here if he was there, now would it?” Marie’s delicate eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

  “Very well. You may go. I will wait for you. Be sure to wear the new frock I had made for you as a Christmas present. No one has seen you in it yet. You look quite fetching in pomme.”

  Mimi sighed. “Yes, Maman.” Her mother had been dictating her movements, her whereabouts, and her various forms of dress and undress for weeks. It chafed at Mimi and caused her to be cross with her mother and speak sharply to her. She was disappointed in what she saw her mother becoming. Or was she becoming acquainted with Marie’s true self? Marie had been behaving like the spoiled, youngest daughter she had once been.

  Mimi wondered, at times, how she’d never seen the self-centred side of her mother. The discovery of it had been more than disappointing. The two women had not been getting along at all. There were arguments and days of not speaking to one another. Through it all, Marie seemed to have one goal in mind, and that was to raise herself up as high in society as possible. To do that she needed the compliance of her daughter.

  Mimi had reckoned that her mother’s hopes of advancement had been for her. So she’d been as patient as possible and tried to understand her mother’s motives and actions. It had taken a little while, but Mimi had come to the deduction that Marie was using her as a pawn for her own advancement. She didn’t care if Mimi was in love with the Duke or not. She didn’t care if the Duke loved Mimi. Marie wanted them to get together. To be together. To marry. Marie desired above all else for her daughter to marry Duke Hertford. She would not allow Mimi to be the Duke’s mistress. Marriage between the two was Marie’s end game. And she spent every waking hour figuring out how to make that happy event a reality.

  It was a fact that to Marie any member of the peerage would do for Mimi’s future husband. But the Duke was the ideal choice. In fact, any Duke would be ideal; however, it was Hertford who’d been showing more and more attention to Mimi. And the only other Duke was a three time widower with foul breath and a huge belly. Still, a Duke was just one step away from royalty.

  If she were to become Duchess Hertford, Mimi would find herself dining with royalty at times, possibly many times. Marie as Mimi’s mother could be at the table also. Mother and daughter’s entire reality could, and would, change with an introduction into the ton that would only be possible with the Duke’s assistance.

  All Mimi would need to do was forfeit her chances at love with Richard Warren. Give up romantic notions, give birth to an heir, followed in short succession, by a spare. Then the remainder of Mimi’s, as well as Marie’s lives, would be spent in high end luxury.

  Everything about the idea rankled Mimi. She felt drawn towards the Duke, there was no doubt. He was handsome and dashing. He was even kind and courteous at times. But he was also standoffish and condescending. Mimi always found her mood to be cluttered and ever changing when she was in the Duke’s presence. The expensive gifts he gave her were nice, as well as the lovely fabrics for frocks he had sent to her. The dressmaker, Mrs Limonseaux’s apprentice would come, and Mimi would be fitted at home in the latest and most attractive French styles. Each week brought a new frock, ring or ear bobs courtesy of Duke Hertford. Mimi watched her mother’s anticipation grow increasingly as the days passed.

  And then there was Richard. His moods were hot and cold also. Often, Mimi felt rejected by him. Sometimes it seemed that the young man she’d spent time with on the beach in Cromer was nowhere to be found. Sometimes she wished she could just run away and not have to worry about securing a man, a rich man, to take care of her and Marie. All of the trappings of the beau monde, once seeming to be so exciting and lovely, carried a cast over them as thick as the coal dust that changed the colours on the exteriors of London’s finer residences.

  “Very nice, Giselle. Now, will you do something with Mimi’s hair? It is so thick and unruly. Truly, I dare say sometimes it looks as if birds were nesting in it.”

  “I would be happy to manage Miss Mimi’s lovely, shiny locks, Madame.”

  Marie eyed the girl for a moment, and then nodded her head slightly. “Mind your place, Giselle.”

  The girl hastily curtsied, “Yes, Madame.”

  *******

  Marie and Mimi arrived at the Warren home an hour later. They sat with Lavinia on a small, comfortable sofa in the open drawing room. The drapes were open, the glass windows reflecting the candlelight within the room. Golden light descended on everyone in a glowing haze that caused them to look as if they inhabited a gossamer wonderland of brightly coloured silks and satins.

  “I’m delighted you could both make it.” Lavinia smiled. “Richard needs his old friends around him. He’s been having a ha
rd time of it since he’s been back from the war.”

  “Does he feel unwell, Mrs Warren?” There was an inflection in Lavinia’s voice that caused Mimi to worry.

  “It is a difficult concept to convey. Richard feels as if he doesn’t fit in anywhere. He doesn’t view anything as having meaning anymore. He turns his nose up at parties, dinners, going for drives in the park, the theatre. He loathes the quest we all have in finding a better way.”

  “Has he been spending any time at the club?” Mimi questioned.

  “No. He hasn’t been to White’s in months. He rides every day, but alone. He rises early, six o’clock or so and goes out with Tilley, his mare. For hours and hours. Sometimes he doesn’t come back for breakfast. But he does come to luncheon at one.”

  “Oh dear, Lavinia, the boy sounds as if he needs some focus. Some, um, direction.” Marie shuddered slightly.

  “Possibly, Marie. But I’m not going to force anything on him. He’s exceedingly upset that we are to be moving in one month. Here I thought a change of scenery would do him good, but he wants no part of it.”

  “Moving?” Mimi perked up. “Where will you go?”

  “Up, dear girl. Up in the world. We are moving to Wimpole Street.”

  “Wimpole Street? However were you able to secure a residence on Wimpole Street?” Marie leaned closer, her eyes glittering more from envy than any kind of excitement or enthusiasm over her friend’s good fortune.

  “It’s an older home. My husband bought it from the owners who only wanted to be rid of it. The old man, a former banker, who had lived there died suddenly just before Christmas. The only child, a male, preferred any money he could get by selling the place along with all of the furnishings, draperies, rugs. Some of the pieces are quite old, antiques really. Of course, I plan to sell it all and redecorate.”

  “Who is the male heir to the house?” Marie having heard the word money was suddenly curious.

  Lavinia laughed. “Not anyone for you to consider as a husband for your daughter, Marie. The lad is going to the United States. He served in the army with Richard. Um, Lieutenant Rodgers. I’ve heard he intends to buy a type of working farm. Something called a plantation. The men in America who own the farms call themselves planters. To my understanding they are akin to the landed gentry here in England.”

  “Charming,” Marie said with sarcasm and fanned herself. They were seated right next to the fire, and she felt too warm. “It sounds like a lot of trouble to go to. Why not buy some land outside of London?”

  “Apparently, the young man is disillusioned with London society. So we shall move into his house, bettering ourselves in a fine neighbourhood. It seems the ball has begun to roll, dear Marie.”

  “And this Lieutenant Rodgers thinks he will better himself by moving to America?” Mimi scoffed. “Does he not understand that human beings are constantly manoeuvring to better their places in society? Does he think that doesn’t happen among the American planter class? It’s most ridiculous to think one could ever get away from wagging tongues and peering eyes.” She stood up in a huff. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some refreshment. And some air.” Mimi stalked off.

  “Your daughter certainly has developed a rather shrewd head, Marie. It seems she has the London ton, and even American society at large, all figured out. You must be proud of such a ... feminine perspective. I hear tell that Duke Hertford likes a sassy wench.”

  “Oh please, Lavinia. As if you don’t look at each and every person you meet and wonder what you can get out of them? It is why you are leaving this neighbourhood and moving to a new home. In a better, a much better part of the city. You are separating yourself from the tradesman’s neighbourhood your husband made his money in.

  “There was a time when you and I were the grandest ladies on Jermyn Street. Apparently that is not enough for either of us anymore. So you should understand why I push my daughter towards Duke Hertford and not your son. You wish your son to marry up as much as I wish the same for my daughter. You should thank me. Richard is handsome, he is charming, and now having served in the army, he is a gentleman. I dare say there are daughters of the peerage who would take a step down to raise him up.”

  Lavinia smirked. “Yes, it’s true. Would that both of my sons had been born gentlemen. They have everything else it takes, except money. But that will change soon enough.

  “And as far as Mimi and Richard are concerned, don’t think I haven’t been aware of what you are doing. And you make me ill, Marie Hancock. You’ve always taken yourself to be a cut above the good people of this town who are not born members of the haut ton. You think your precious Mimi is too good for my Richard, so why should I act any different than you? We both want the same things for our children, Marie. And for ourselves.”

  Marie yawned behind her fan. “I suppose you are right, Lavinia. I realise it’s difficult to lift oneself out of the pit of having been in the theatre.”

  “If that was meant as an insult, Marie, you can save your energy. And your nasty tone. I am not ashamed of my very humble beginnings. I was born in Cornwall, it’s true. And I had a wonderful life travelling around to cities and country villages as part of a small troupe of actors. I made a small fortune performing on the stage and doing salon readings here and in Paris.”

  Marie looked up quickly.

  “Yes, Marie. I spent a great deal of time in Paris in my younger days. I am acquainted with your family. I know all about you. So, if anyone should approach me about my time in the theatre, which I haven’t spoken about in years, I will know from where they have gotten their information. Remember that.

  “By the way, did you ever find out where your comte went when he left Paris all those years ago? How old were you? Fifteen? Sixteen? Your mother was quite willing to sell you off to him wasn’t she? She must have been sorely disappointed when he left without so much as a goodbye. Beware, Marie. Dukes have a habit of behaving as they wish. Without regard for who they might hurt.”

  “Is that so? Well, don’t you have it all figured out? I am not worried about the Duke leaving my daughter as I was left. I am worried about my daughter marrying someone who cannot lift her out of the mediocrity of the middle class. Hence my reticence at accepting Richard as a possible suitor for my Mimi. You may be moving to Wimpole Street, Lavinia, but you are not of the haut ton. You would do well to remember where it is you come from.”

  “As you are not a member of the ton either, Marie. You would do well to remember that as well as I.”

  “I am not a member of the ton yet, Lavinia. Oh, look. Duke Hertford has just come in. Wonderful that he could attend, don’t you think?” Marie stood and hurried towards the entry to the drawing room. “Your Grace? Oh, Your Grace.”

  Lavinia looked on in repugnance as her former friend curtsied to the Duke.

  *******

  Mimi was having fun for the first time in quite a while. She was dancing one dance after the other. She had no lack of partners to turn her around the dance floor. Young men from varying backgrounds vied for the next song. They all wanted to spend time with her. Dancing was the only way a young man and young woman could be alone together until they were married. And there seemed to be a great deal of marriageable young men in the room.

  She was escorted to a sofa in the corner by her latest partner, a pasty looking doctor, who offered to get her some refreshment. The young man walked away, and Mimi snapped open her fan. She’d gotten overheated with all the dancing, and she was quite thirsty.

  She looked out over the dance floor admiring the new fashions that had been coming over from Paris. A tap came to her shoulder, and she looked up to see Richard standing next to the sofa.

  “Richard!” She was sincerely happy to see her old friend, but then held her breath as she attempted to decipher what kind of mood he was in.

  “Miss Hancock. I was wondering if you might give me the honour of accompanying you to the dance floor. I’ve seen you have been in demand all evening. I thought I mi
ght approach you before the party is over.”

  “Not until the lady has danced with me, Lieutenant.”

  “Your Grace. What a surprise.” Richard bowed. “Welcome to my parents’ home.”

  “You actually live here? On Jermyn Street? My man, I must introduce you to some people who can readily get you out of this neighbourhood. If you’re going to entertain the nouveau riche life instead of merely the middle class existence, you must consider what everything looks like. Just a word of advice.”

  Before Richard could respond, Hertford had taken Mimi’s hand and led her out onto the floor. The doctor showed up with some ratafia for Mimi. Richard took the glass and downed the sugary sweet beverage making a face as he did so. He then handed the glass back to the doctor and walked away.