Not Just Lovely Laura

by Jessica Spencer

  “Do you have a plan to secure a wife?”

  Looking sheepish, Lord Wimberley retrieved a list from a drawer and handed it to Daventon. “After Lady Malloy's ball, I made a list of unattached women above the age of twenty-five. I’ve been meeting them for years but I don’t know much about them!”

  Lord Daventon skimmed over the list. His eyebrows shot up. Wimberley must be desperate. Though he didn't move much in Society, he could see more than half the women wouldn't suit. “Why don't you ask Lady Malloy? She will be happy to help.”

  “She is determined to have me wed her husband's cousin. The chit is just out of the schoolroom and too young to know her mind.”

  Gareth waved the list. “Do you mean to call upon them? If you do, it will set the gossips off.”

  “I mean to go about this in the usual manner. At first a few dances, then morning calls,” Lord Wimberley said, not sounding very hopeful. There was no way he could be discreet. As soon as he was seen attending balls and squiring young women, he would have ambitious mamas snapping at his coattails.

  “I can ask Lady Maria to go over this list,” Gareth said cautiously.

  “By all means. I know Lady Maria to be the soul of discretion. Her opinion will be of immense help. She is welcome to prune down the list or add a name to it. It will only make my job easier.”

  Gareth pocketed the list and took his leave.

  Chapter 8

  Laura was happy to lean back in the carriage. The number of items that were deemed to be essential for a young lady attending a London Season seemed to be inexhaustible. After stopping at the library, they had visited a haberdasher, three dressmakers, a jeweler, and a tiny shop tucked away in a narrow lane that sold only parasols and fans.

  “Have I overtired you, dear?” Lady Maria asked.

  “My feet do ache but I don’t mind that in the least! I never imagined having so much variety to choose from. Poor Miss Henry!” Laura said, starting to giggle.

  “Who is Miss Henry?” Lady Maria asked.

  “Miss Henry is the dressmaker in the village. She doesn’t keep fashion plates in her shop. The bolts of material suffice only to make simple round gowns. Her stock of ribbons and laces is also inadequate. She does keep racks of stitched gowns which she alters for her customers. Bessie is always arguing with her. She believes Miss Henry purchases outmoded clothes in London at a cheap price and sells them at a tidy profit. One of my recent purchases was a gown in azure blue. Bessie found out from Lydia that the color was in vogue two years ago. She marched to Miss Henry with the gown and insisted she take it back. I fear Miss Henry will have to close down her shop. Bessie will make her life miserable!”

  Lady Maria smiled indulgently. Laura was as excited and happy as any eighteen-year-old having her first London Season. Lady Catherine’s presence and the abundance of her love had made her blossom into a confident young woman. Only a few days ago, she had been reserved to the point of coldness.

  “Why didn’t Bessie come with you today?” Gwen asked.

  “She wanted to practice hairstyles. I arranged for a maid to serve as a model. Bessie is determined that she will do my hair tomorrow evening and not Lucy.”

  “I like her spirit. But there is much she will have to learn. I’ll send Lucy so that she may guide her. Tomorrow’s do is an informal evening tea with the Duchess of Lambert. It will call for a simple style.”

  “I thought so. Shall I wear the yellow muslin with the white embroidery?”

  “That will be eminently suitable.”

  “Will it be a large gathering?”

  “I’m sure the guests will not number over a hundred. You may have already met them at Lady Malloy’s ball.”

  “I can’t remember most of them. Did I meet the Duchess of Wimberley that night?”

  “No dear, you didn’t. Her Grace passed away two years ago.”

  “Oh,” Laura said with a sharp intake of breath. So that was why the duke wore a brooding look at the ball. He was missing his duchess. If he felt that lost in the midst of a social event, he must be quite desolate when he was on his own.

  How different he had looked outside the library! Laughter suited him. She would try to make him laugh when she met him next.

  ***

  Laura was grateful for Lady Maria’s advice. She was enjoying herself at the insipid affair only because she had made friends with some of the other debutantes. Lady Harriet was having her first Season and Lady Pamela her second. Both young ladies were lively and talkative. Laura enjoyed listening to them.

  The yellow muslin with the while paisley embroidery was much admired by Laura’s new friends. The arrangement of tiny braids and a cascade of curls painstakingly created by Bessie were also exclaimed upon.

  A tall lady with an impressive turban came over to Laura. Laura curtsied as it was proper. The woman barely inclined her head. “You have your mother’s looks. I remember her come out. She had no address at all and could barely string two words together. We were all surprised she snapped up Daventon. A pity that didn’t last.”

  Angry words rushed to Laura’s lips but Lady Pamela discreetly put a calming hand on her back.

  “Who is Lady Selena’s modiste, Lady Goodall? Her gown is most becoming,” Lady Harriet asked, fixing wide eyes on the obnoxious woman.

  Lady Goodall tittered. “My niece is in uncommonly good looks, don’t you think? She shines in whatever she wears,” she said and walked away, looking for fresh prey.

  “Breathe,” Lady Pamela murmured.

  “Please do! I’m afraid you will burst if you don’t!” Lady Harriet said.

  “Or swell up like a ...a frog!” Lady Pamela added.

  “What a waste of this fetching frock!”

  Laura’s lips twitched. “Stop it or I won’t be able to contain my laughter! We’re at Lady Lambert’s tea!”

  “A most insipid affair. The tea isn’t even hot. It tastes like dishwater,” Lady Pamela said.

  “Are you complaining about the taste or the temperature? Would you find hot dishwater more palatable?” Lady Harriet teased.

  “My mother insisted we have tea at home before coming. The duchess’ teas are notorious for the bland fare. Of course, that doesn’t keep anyone away,” Lady Pamela said.

  “Thank you,” Laura said, feeling tears prick at her eyes. She would have taken Lady Goodall’s bait and it wouldn’t have helped her mother’s cause.

  “Lady Goodall does it with everyone. You weren’t here at the beginning of the Season. She had singled out Harriet.”

  “At my come out ball, she praised my gown for looking so countrified. It wasn’t. Mama had spent a fortune on it. She said that only to discomfit me.”

  “What did you do?” Laura asked.

  “I almost wept. Lady Maria guessed something was wrong. She came over and started praising the trimming on Lady Goodall’s gown. In truth, it clashed horribly with the yellow satin.”

  “That’s what you did! You praised Lady Selena’s gown and diverted her attention!” Laura exclaimed.

  “Mama says Lady Goodall has several nieces and female cousins. For the past many years she has been sponsoring female relatives. She is jealous of anyone making a good match. Mama says your father was most eligible. Many matrons tried to entice him into paying court to their daughters. But he had eyes only for Lady Catherine.”

  Laura grew uneasy. Her friend was about to pry. But Lady Harriet, with her color high, said, “I’ve heard they quarreled later. But that is the way it usually is. Mama and Papa care deeply for each other but also fight. It’s sad about whatever happened but at least they reconciled before it was too late.”

  Laura looked away. The ton, seeing the family together, had concluded that her parents had reconciled in later years but had kept away from Society.

  When Laura had first heard the story, she had asked her brother, “What should we do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do. Refuting it will only give rise to more stories. We don’t owe the t
ruth to anyone except to Lady Maria and her grandmother. And they know.”

  ***

  The Duke of Wimberley rode out with Lord Daventon on most mornings and later stayed talking with him in his study. Laura often joined them.

  “How many flowers did you receive yesterday, Lady Laura?” Wimberley would ask, waggling his eyebrows.

  Laura would get into the spirit and allow him to tease her mercilessly. She even thought up witticisms beforehand about her beaus. Their conversations were banal, even silly. Sometimes she surprised herself at the ease with which she conversed with Anthony. He was Anthony to her now, at least in the privacy of her thoughts.

  “You were a very particular young person,” Anthony said one day. “I remember you took affront that I addressed you by your given name. Do you remember, Daventon?”

  “I do,” Gareth said, breaking into a smile. “Laura had fallen down from the swing. You helped her up and carried her indoors. She kept wailing. We thought she was hurt. She was crying because you kept calling her Laura. Her nurse had told her she must only be addressed as Lady Laura!”

  Laura smiled. “I remember. I also remember the nurse. She was very strict. Aunt Nell dismissed her after she found me crying in the schoolroom. She had inserted pencils between my fingers and pressed my hand. It wasn’t the first time either.”

  Anthony looked aghast. “Why didn’t you tell your aunt?”

  “I was terrified she would find out and punish me more. After Aunt Nell sent her packing, she made it a point to visit the schoolroom during lessons.”

  “I will write to my mother. She has hired a new nurse for Mary Jane. Her earlier nurse left last month to help her sister-in-law with some domestic issue. Now you see why I must wed soon. If my mother leaves for Harrogate, my daughter will be at the mercy of nurses and maids.”

  Without stopping to think, Laura said, “Children need a mother or a mother figure. Girls need them more. I was lucky to have Aunt Nell. She loved me. You must look for someone who is kind and who will love Mary Anne as her own. A cruel stepmother will be worse than a cruel governess. You will not be able to dismiss her.”

  Gareth raised an eyebrow and Laura flushed. She had no business to offer advice of such personal nature. Murmuring something inaudible, she fled.

  Chapter 9

  Laura stood in front of the oval looking glass, twisting this way and that. Bessie stood right behind her, her eyes darting between Laura's face and her reflection.

  “Do you like it, Lady Laura?”

  “What is it called, Bessie?”

  “I don't know but Lucy says this style goes best with an empire waistline gown.”

  “My head feels like a pincushion. Do we need so many hairpins?” Laura grumbled gracelessly.

  A glimpse of Bessie's face in the mirror had her turning around. “I must say the style becomes me. You went to a lot of trouble over it.”

  Pleased, Bessie brought the gown. A pale shade of peach, it was of a simple cut. The long sleeves ended at the wrist and the hemline was scalloped. The only jewelry Laura wore was an onyx brooch with a spray of silver flowers.

  Laura didn't need anyone to tell her that she looked very well. Bessie had curled her hair and pinned up most of it, leaving a handful to cluster around her forehead. Nevertheless, she was pleased when her mother and her aunt exclaimed over her appearance. Gareth smiled appreciatively while offering her his arm. As usual, they stopped at Severn House. Lady Catherine and Lady Helena joined the duchess in her carriage. Lady Maria went with Laura and Lord Daventon.

  Finally, they were drawing less attention, Laura thought because the hum of conversation didn't drop when they were announced.

  Lord Daventon, after scribbling his name on Lady Maria and Laura's dance cards, withdrew to join some friends. Laura greeted the matrons sitting with her mother and aunt and went over to speak to the other debutantes.

  In truth, the best part of coming to London was meeting young women her age. She wasn't naive enough to believe everything they said but it was pleasant to giggle with them over a foppishly dressed tulip or a portly gentleman taking to the dance floor after liberally sampling the host's liquor.

  The musicians grouped at one end were trying out their instruments, a signal for gentlemen to obtain partners. “Here they come,” Lady Priscilla murmured, trying to look disinterested and failing.

  Laura groaned inwardly. Among the gentlemen converging on them, Mr. Bennett was at the forefront, with Lord Newington breathing over his shoulder.

  The two had positioned themselves as the foremost among her suitors. She wouldn't have minded; she had not fixed her interest on anyone. But Mr. Bennett's strong perfume made her eyes twitch and Lord Newington's excruciatingly boring conversation made her go to sleep on her feet. It wasn't fair! A lady couldn't refuse a dance without insulting the gentleman. The only way out was to plead an excuse and sit out all the dances!

  Laura turned and made a dash to an anteroom, discomfiting a lady with a ridiculously large coiffure. To her mortification, it was occupied by a couple who had slipped in for a private moment. Her nose started feeling itchy. Mr. Bennett was coming closer. A potted palm stood beside a pillar adorned with fat cherubs. It would have to do. Fortunately, her gown didn't have a bustle or fussy frills.

  Laura practically flattened herself against the pillar, willing the dance to commence. Blast the musicians! Why couldn't they test their violins and harpsichords at home?

  “Lady Laura?”

  Laura stared as if Anthony was an apparition, and blinked.

  “Are you taking up position with the cherub? I fear he will cause half a dozen matrons to reach for their smelling salts.”

  Laura followed Anthony’s pointed glance, and blushed. The cherub's unclothed anatomy she had been pillowing her head upon could never be mentioned by a lady.

  The Duke of Wimberley's eyes brimmed with a teasing light. Laura caught her breath. He was about to ask her for a dance! And she knew she would enjoy dancing with him. Instead, he suddenly looked left, as if recalling something, and after sketching a bow walked up to Lady Selena who was sitting with the matrons.

  It took a moment for Laura to regain enough self-possession and clamp her mouth shut. She watched Anthony lead out Lady Selena, who looked as shaken as Laura felt.

  The dance started. Laura would have to sit it out. Not that she minded very much. As she made her way to where her mother and aunt were seated, Mr. Bennett met her. She allowed him to write his name on her dance card. Lord Emsworth materialized and did the same. She knew Lord Hennicker would wait till later and try to get her for the supper dance.

  “Shall we sit down?” Lord Emsworth asked, and led her to a sofa with a view of the dance floor. He gave a mournful sigh. At least that is what it sounded like, unless he was suffering from dyspepsia. A minute later he sighed again. “Is anything the matter, my lord?”

  “Lady Laura, you are all that is good and kind. I ...”

  “He is going to offer!” Laura thought, panicking. It would be embarrassing because she would refuse him – or anyone else. She didn't want to wed. Not yet.

  “I find you are the only one with whom I can freely speak. I hold Lady Priscilla in high esteem. Will you please find out her favorite flowers?”

  “We were at a garden party last week. I remember her saying she is partial to white chrysanthemums.”

  “I can't thank you enough! Is there anything I can do?”

  “Get me something to drink?” Laura said, dispatching him, and looked among the dancers to find Anthony. He was a good dancer. Graceful. He looked so distinguished. What was he saying to Lady Selena?

  “The Wimberlies are high in the instep, my dear.”

  It was Lady Goodall, sitting down beside her.

  “My lady?” Laura asked. Surely, she had misheard. Why would Lady Goodall comment about the Wimberley family?

  “The dukes in that family have always been high sticklers. Lord Wimberley is no different. He has finally
decided to wed again. Lady Selena will suit, don’t you think? There hasn't been a whiff of scandal in her family.”

  Lady Goodall placed her gloved fingers on Laura's arm. “You are young, dear, and unused to the ways of the world. I happened to see you outside the library with Lord Wimberley a week ago.”

  “My brother and Lady Maria were with us,” Laura said rather hotly.

  Lady Goodall sighed. “It is so easy for young women to get above themselves. When you waylaid Lord Wimberley before the dance, I knew it was my duty to warn you. Your mother ought to have. But she has been occupied with other matters all these years. Remember, a young woman is judged by how she behaves. You may model your behavior on that of my dear niece.”

  It was a good thing Lady Goodall left immediately after delivering her homily. Not all her training in ladylike behavior or her natural reserve would have prevented Laura from telling the odious woman what she thought of her! More angry than upset, she glared after Lady Goodall.

  Lord Emsworth returned with a glass of lemonade. The dance came to an end. Lady Maria made straight for Laura. “What happened? You look upset,” she asked, drawing her aside.

  “Lady Goodall had the gall to lecture me on how I must behave. She felt it her duty because Mother hasn't cared to guide me,” Laura said through gritted teeth.

  “I can imagine. I had to put up with her annoying ways when I made my come out. In the guise of being helpful, she would slander my mother. She’d say I must not expect to make a good match. It was my misfortune that my mother had been a Commoner and an American. I must not aim high; I had tainted blood running in my veins.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I did the only thing that would shut her up. I proved her wrong. I behaved impeccably and did not rise to her bait. You must do the same. Now take a deep breath. Who is partnering you for the next dance? Don't tell me! I can smell him coming!”

  With a smile and an affectionate squeeze, Lady Maria moved aside, allowing Mr. Bennett to claim Laura's hand for the country dance. By the time the evening ended, Laura's head was throbbing with the effort of appearing to enjoy the ball.