A Season of Romance

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘There.’ He tore the latest sketch from the pad and handed it to Mary.

  ‘It is quite delightful,’ she cried. ‘Look, Miss Luckington. It is quite a gift you have, Mr Chawton, to capture one in a few quick lines of your pencil.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Garwood. Now, who will be next? Miss Luckington?’

  ‘Oh, but I have only just arrived, I am sure there are others before me. Mr Garwood, for instance. Surely it should be the turn of a gentleman…’

  There was much laughter as Gerald Garwood took up a pose, raising his chin and turning what he declared to be his best side towards the room.

  ‘Very statesmanlike!’ Edward Chawton grinned and turned his chair. ‘Now keep still, Garwood, while I catch your likeness.’

  ‘My brother is missing a treat,’ said Verity, coming to sit beside Lucia.

  ‘Some business keeps him away, perhaps?’ Lucia scolded herself for asking.

  ‘He has gone to Bond Street.’ Verity wrinkled her nose. ‘Pugilism.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘He will be at the boxing academy, Miss Luckington,’ Gerald Garwood explained. ‘Claversham is one of the few whom Jackson will favour with a round or two. He is a noted Corinthian, you know.’

  Mr Chawton tutted impatiently. ‘Garwood will you stop talking and keep still!’

  So that was why he was absent, thought Lucy. He preferred fisticuffs to more civilized pursuits. Not that she cared.

  Not one jot.

  An errand for Lady Quidenham took Lucia to New Bond Street the following morning. It was the first dry day for a while and she decided to walk, although her maid insisted on carrying an umbrella.

  ‘Just in case, miss.’

  Having collected the purchases for her aunt, Lucia strolled on, making a mental note of the ladies’ fashions that caught her eye, together with anything new in the shop windows that might be of interest to Grace. She was so intent upon studying the contents of one particular window that she jumped when a voice at her shoulder wished her a good morning.

  ‘Sir Darius!’

  She dipped a curtsy to him, silently berating herself for the fact that his smile had left her foolishly tongue-tied.

  ‘Are you waiting for someone?’

  ‘No. I was looking at that bonnet and wondering who would wear such a creation.’ Her initial surprise had abated and she wanted to distract him from the blush she felt sure was mantling her cheeks.

  ‘Not you, I suspect.’ He had followed her glance towards the villager hat in the window. ‘It has such an abundance of fruit and flowers the wearer would have a headache within half an hour,’

  She giggled. ‘That was my opinion, too. It is over-decorated, I think.’

  ‘Unquestionably. Suitable for the lady who wishes to draw attention away from her countenance.’ Again, that glinting smile that caused her heart to thud uncomfortably against her ribs. ‘You have no need for such artifice.’

  Oh heavens, now he was flirting with her! Lucia looked away quickly.

  ‘I should be getting back.’

  ‘Allow me to escort you.’

  She was hesitating, framing the words of her refusal, when he spoke again.

  ‘I was thinking it was time I paid my respects to Lady Quidenham. As her heir, you know, I must keep in with her.’

  She laughed, her embarrassment forgotten. ‘Much you care for that!’

  ‘Quite.’ He grinned at her and held out his arm. ‘Shall we walk?’

  She placed her fingers on his sleeve, keeping her touch light, but even so she could feel the solid strength of muscle beneath the fine black wool. But of course, he was a Corinthian. A sportsman, who enjoyed such horrid pastimes as boxing. She cast a swift, surreptitious glance at his face. The wide brow, clean, smooth cheeks and strong jaw showed not the slightest scar or blemish.

  ‘Well, Miss Luckington, do I pass muster?’

  His amused voice made her flush but she answered him honestly.

  ‘I was looking for any sign of injury – I understand you were sparring at the famous boxing saloon in Bond Street yesterday.’

  ‘You are correct, I was there yesterday, and I did stand up for a few rounds with Gentleman Jackson himself, but as for injuries – I was fortunate, he spared me.’

  Lucy said nothing and a moment later he continued.

  ‘Do you like the sport, Miss Luckington? I understand some ladies enjoy it a great deal.’

  ‘I am not one of them. I think it quite horrid for two men to be coming to blows.’ She knew she sounded censorious and tried to explain. ‘There should be no need for it, in our civilized society.’

  ‘I agree, madam, but upon occasion it is very useful to be able to defend oneself. Or those one holds dear.’

  ‘I fear we shall never agree on that, Sir Darius.’

  ‘And I do not wish to quarrel, so let us talk of something else,’ he replied easily. ‘You make your first visit to Almack’s this evening, I believe?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Almack’s! Lucia had not dared to hope she might be allowed to enter the hallowed portals and had said as much to her great-aunt, soon after arriving in London.

  ‘And why not?’ Lady Quidenham had wanted to know. ‘You are my niece, and entitled to dance there, if you wish. Although I will warn you that the refreshments are very poor fare. I shall arrange it.’

  And she had done so. Lucy smiled at the memory.

  ‘Lady Quidenham renewed her acquaintance with the patronesses for the specific purpose of gaining entry to the famous club,’ she told Sir Darius. ‘She invited the countesses Sefton and Cowper to Quidenham House, where she presented me to them and made it clear she expected them to provide vouchers for her great niece. I vow I almost quailed at her regal manner, for I have always understood that the patronesses of Almack’s are notoriously fickle, but neither lady appeared to take offence, and soon after their visit, the promised tickets duly arrived!’

  ‘I am impressed.’

  ‘As was I, my aunt constantly surprises me.’ Lucia laughed. ‘I was even more surprised when she decreed that she would accompany me to the Wednesday ball herself!’

  ‘Really?’ he murmured. ‘The dowager is becoming positively gregarious.’

  ‘Yes. She has even hired a house at Brighton for the summer, rather than her usual retreat to Ramsgate.’

  ‘Now that is a surprise!’

  ‘Yes, is it not? She will be mixing with all the most fashionable families!’ She chuckled, then grew serious again. ‘When she agreed to bring me to Town, I never expected her to put herself out quite so much for me.’

  ‘But what other motive could she have had, other than sponsoring you into society?’

  She looked up at him suspiciously. ‘She is not about to announce that I am her heir, if that is what you think!’

  ‘Certainly not,’ he agreed cheerfully. ‘And here we are in Portman Square, so let us go in and I shall be able to ascertain as much from the lady herself!’

  *

  ‘There, miss, that’s the last of the curls in place.’

  ‘Thank you, Fixby.’

  Lucia was aware of the great honour afforded her to have her aunt’s dresser arranging her hair and when she studied the result she had to admit that it looked very well. Her thick, curling locks had been brushed until they shone, confined by two bands of pink ribbon and arranged in loose curls to fall at the back of her head. She was dressed in a pink satin slip beneath a frock of silver-striped gauze and a fine silver shawl was draped across her arms. Pink kid slippers completed the ensemble and the result drew a nod of approval from Miss Fixby.

  ‘Very elegant, miss, if I may say so,’ said the dresser, a little grudgingly. ‘And very suitable for a young lady’s first appearance at Almack’s.’

  Lucy knew that Lady Quidenham had insisted Fixby should attend her, so she thanked her again before making her way downstairs to wait for the carriage.

  The dancing had already commenced by the
time they arrived and Lucia spotted Verity going down the dance with Lord Applecross. She was looking very pretty in a gown of sky-blue satin that Lucy recognised as one of Grace’s designs. Tiny spangles sewn into the embroidery on the wide flounce caught the light as Verity moved, making her feet twinkle as she danced. Lucy chuckled to herself. Miss Claversham had got her way on that little detail!

  She followed her aunt to the side of the room where they sat down with Lady Winterstoke. She would have been content to remain there, quietly observing the proceedings, but it seemed that a young lady making her debut under the aegis of the Dowager Viscountess of Quidenham could not be merely a spectator. Lady Cowper herself presented Lucy with her first dance partner and it wasn’t until there was a short break in the dancing that she and Miss Claversham finally spoke. Verity came up, greeting her with unfeigned pleasure.

  ‘‘I am so pleased to see you here, Lucia! I was afraid I should not see any of my real friends this evening.’

  ‘I am flattered that you should think of me in that way! But I told you last night we should be here.’

  ‘I know, but after spending all day in Grafton Street with us yesterday I was very much afraid Lady Quidenham would have had enough of society!’

  Lucy allowed herself a little smile. ‘I know. I was more than a little worried she might cry off, but my aunt seems to have developed a taste for balls and parties. I was never more surprised! You appear to be enjoying yourself, Verity.’

  ‘Oh I am. Immensely, but then I love to dance, it doesn’t matter where!’

  ‘No,’ said a deep, amused voice behind them. ‘Your greatest difficulty is keeping still!’

  ‘Darius!’ Verity gave a squeal of delight. ‘I never thought to see you here!’

  ‘I thought I had best look in and make sure you are behaving yourself.’ He bowed to Lucy. ‘Miss Luckington.’

  She dipped a curtsy, trying not to think how extremely handsome he looked in a dark evening coat and knee breeches that seemed moulded to his athletic form, and his light brown hair gleaming in the candlelight.

  Verity was giggling.

  ‘Of course I am behaving. Everyone must do so here. Even you! I must say, Brother, you are looking very fine, is this in my honour?’

  ‘No, brat, as you say, this is Almack’s. I should not have been allowed to enter wearing anything else.’

  ‘Well I hope you are going to ask me to stand up with you, because I shall take great pleasure in refusing. There are only two dances left and I am promised for both!’

  He grinned. ‘I am glad to hear it, because I came to ask Miss Luckington for the next.’ As if on cue, there was a movement of couples back to the dancefloor and Sir Darius proffered his arm, ‘You need not think you are committing some social solecism, Miss Luckington. I already have Lady Jersey’s approval to lead you out for this dance.’

  She was inclined to bridle at this, but when she glanced across the room to where the lady was standing, the haughty patroness gave a little nod and a smile. Lucy knew it would not do to offend her, so she put her fingers on his sleeve and allowed him to lead her out.

  The way Verity had greeted her brother suggested he was not a regular visitor at Almack’s and from the surprised and envious glances that followed their progress Lucy realised she was considered fortunate to have such a partner. That alone gave a fillip to her confidence. She was anxious not to make any false steps and was relieved that Sir Darius made no attempt to flirt with her. Gradually, as the dance progressed, she began to relax and enjoy herself, so much so that she agreed without hesitation to a second dance and she thanked him prettily, when at last he escorted her from the floor.

  ‘It was my pleasure, ma’am. I count myself fortunate that you were not already engaged.’

  ‘It is my first visit to Almack’s and I am relatively unknown in Town.’ She thought that sounded as if she had been a wallflower all evening and added, ‘Not that I have wanted for partners this evening.’

  ‘I never doubted it. Sally Jersey told me there were any number of gentlemen eager to dance with you.’

  Oh dear, now he thought her conceited! What was it about this man that made her so flustered?

  She said drily, ‘That is because they think – erroneously – that Lady Quidenham is about to make me her heir.’

  ‘More likely because you are one of the prettiest young ladies in the room.’

  She blushed furiously, but was spared any need to reply because they had come up to her aunt. Sir Darius lifted her fingers from his sleeve, kissed them lightly then, with a word to Lady Quidenham, he left them.

  Pretending to busy herself with straightening her gloves, Lucy watched him as he walked away, noting how the eyes of nearly every lady followed his tall figure, some of them patently sighing as he passed. Not that he noticed any of them, although Lucy was not sure if this was to his credit. Perhaps he expected such attentions as his due.

  *

  When Lucia returned to Portman Square she found Miss Morrison waiting in her bedchamber, a heavy cashmere shawl wrapped about her shoulders.

  ‘Well, how was it, Lucia? I told Betty she could go on to bed and I would look after you. I want to know everything!’

  ‘Wonderful!’ Lucia plumped down upon the bed, beaming. She was not in the least tired and was happy to describe her evening.

  ‘Oh, Morry, everyone was most kind. I was on the dancefloor almost continuously from the moment we arrived!’ She laughed. ‘My aunt might have lived as a recluse for the past dozen years but it was clear she is highly regarded by the patronesses of Almack’s – but then, she is a dowager viscountess. They were at pains to come and speak to her, and to approve of her niece! They introduced me to any number of suitable partners.’

  Not that Sir Darius was suitable. She had no notion of what had persuaded him to stand up with her.

  You were one of the prettiest young ladies in the room.

  Recalling his compliment sent her insides tumbling with excitement until she squashed it firmly. Sir Darius had no thoughts of matrimony, and if he had, she was convinced he could have had the pick of the beauties in Town. She had seen how the other ladies in the room reacted to him, and not only the unmarried ones! They hung on his every word, gazed up at him adoringly when he danced with them and their eyes followed him hungrily when he left them. Not that he ever looked back.

  No, Sir Darius was not interested in her. He was merely being kind to her as Verity’s friend. Why, he did not even like her very much!

  She slid off the bed and allowed Morry to help her out of her gown.

  ‘My purpose in going to Almack’s was to show off Orchard Gowns to the greatest number of young ladies and their mothers. For that, there could be no better place.’ She slipped a wrap over her nightshift. ‘I have heard Almack’s described as the Marriage Mart and it is a very apt name for it; a ballroom full of debutantes being paraded as prospective brides.’

  ‘How can you sound so disapproving?’ Miss Morrison asked her, smiling. ‘You have just said how much you enjoyed yourself.’

  Lucia did not reply immediately. She carefully carried her gown into the dressing room and laid it over a chair, ready for Betty to clean it and put it away in the morning.

  ‘I enjoyed the dancing,’ she said at last.

  And dancing with one man in particular. Be honest, Lucia!

  She shook her head. ‘I am far too busy to think about a husband – not that I have anyone in mind, Morry, before you ask! – but I went to Almack’s to observe everything with a, a kind of detached amusement.’

  ‘Perhaps you should think about marriage,’ suggested Miss Morrison. ‘A good match would solve all your problems.’

  ‘Perhaps, if it was the sort of marriage Mama and Papa enjoyed, full of mutual love and respect.’ She flushed. ‘I know Papa was a gambler, always chasing another scheme, making another plan, but Mama never minded that.’

  She stopped, thinking back to her happy, loving childhood. There had been
laughter and presents when Papa came home with coins in his pocket, but there had been tears, too, when there was no money to pay the rent, although Mama had been careful not to let her see them. She had crept downstairs one night when she could not sleep and peeped into the drawing room to find Mama weeping in Papa’s arms. Even now she could remember his words.

  ‘Don’t cry, Flo, this is only a temporary set-back. We shall win through, my love. We always do, you know. And nothing matters, if we truly love one another.’

  She gave herself a little shake.

  ‘No, Morry, only the very deepest love would persuade me to marry and that is so rare that I shall not even think about it!’

  Miss Morrison gave a loud sigh. ‘Sometimes I think there could be nothing better than to have a man to look after one. To take all the cares from one’s shoulders.’

  Inexplicably, the image of Sir Darius intruded. Lucia quickly pushed it away.

  She said, ‘That is all very well, but one would be a fool to wait for such a man to come along! Instead we shall continue to work at making Orchard Gowns a success, for all of us.’

  *

  The riding party had been rearranged for the following Wednesday and early on the Tuesday morning, Grace came in person to deliver the new riding habit. It was a deep cherry red wool, the mannish jacket ornamented with military style frogging and finished off by a matching curly-brimmed hat designed to be worn at a jaunty angle on top of Lucia’s dusky curls. She invited Grace and Morry to come up to her room while she tried it on, and as she twirled before the long mirror, they both cried out that it was just perfect. Only Lucia regarded her image with a tinge of doubt.

  ‘You do not think it is a little bold?

  ‘It is, of course,’ agreed Miss Morrison, ‘but the idea is to attract attention to the designs and it will surely do that.’

  ‘Strong colours suit you,’ Grace told her. ‘And you are a clipping rider, Lucia. There could be no better advertisement for my work.’

  ‘It is certainly not an ensemble for the faint hearted.’