by Tessa Candle
“Honestly, you must not say such things. Someone will hear you. And besides it is unfair to make me laugh so much. The whole room will think me simple.”
“Not to worry, no one is looking at us.” Miss Ravelsham turned her gaze, and smiled across the room at Miss Dervish, who was accepting a glass of claret from Mr. Delacroix. “But they will at least be looking in our direction, if we are sitting with her.”
Miss Delacroix finally stood up, and was replaced by another young lady at the instrument.
“Quick, before Miss Delacroix snatches your spot. She is dying to butter up Lady Aldley.”
It was not a difficult game to learn, and Lydia's memory was good enough to raise the ire of Lady Aldley, who sat to her left. She had just decided to stop paying such close attention in the interest of diplomacy, when Miss Ravelsham made her efforts fruitless by dealing herself a grand slam.
“How does one prevail against such fortune?” Miss Dervish smiled and shook her head as she gathered the cards. She was more good natured than her scowling partner.
“If we were not all genteel sorts, I should demand an independent dealer.” Her ladyship's comment was not at all light-hearted. They might have laughed easily, had anyone else said it.
Lady Aldley's own partner had a pedigree even less distinguished than Miss Ravelsham's, so Lydia could not help but note the injustice of the implied slight. At least Miss Ravelsham's father was well-respected within the London ton, and her mother was very distantly related to the Duke of Wellington.
No one actually knew very much about Miss Dervish's father. It was sufficient to know that no scandal appeared to surround him, and that he was very wealthy indeed. Lydia wondered if Miss Ravelsham had been right, if Lady Aldley were sitting at the card table with the three young women furthest from her station, only to judge their suitability.
“I shall offer my services as a dealer.” Mr. Delacroix glided smoothly to Miss Dervish's elbow, pulling in a chair. Unfortunately for Lydia's nerves, he had also sat himself next to her. “Perhaps I can change your Ladyship's fortunes.”
“Perhaps you can. The deal is to Miss Dervish.”
“And I shall give my chair to you, Miss Delacroix, if you care to play a few hands.” Miss Ravelsham stood up as Miss Delacroix approached the table. Lydia flashed her new friend an alarmed look as the treacherous little glutton abandoned her for another glass of wine and a chat with Miss Louisa Ferrel. This was rather like leaving a babe in the woods. Mr. Delacroix began to deal.
“Lady Aldley, I wanted to thank you for gracing our little party with your presence. It really is a kind condescension.” Miss Delacroix seized her chance to turn the lady up sweet.
“I should never dream of turning down an invitation to one of your mother's excellent dinners.” It was not said with much warmth.
“And I understand your son will soon be in town.” Miss Delacroix was unsinkable.
“He is very lately returned from Paris, but has been quite consumed with business matters since he arrived. I think it a very good sign of character that a young man take his business obligations seriously.” Lady Aldley briefly raised an eyebrow at Mr. Delacroix. “And not always be off attending his own amusement.”
“A very good sign, indeed, Lady Aldley. But then, no one could ever doubt the good and serious character of an Aldley.” It was an absurd thing for an empty bonnet like Miss Delacroix to say, but she was clearly determined to pass herself off as an expert on serious characters.
When she received only a slight nod from Lady Aldley, she continued, “But still, a young man must have some amusement, too. I suppose we might see him at a few gatherings.”
“I believe he will be attending several. And, of course, he will be present at my ball.” Lady Aldley raised her chin. “There will be many eligible young ladies there whom I should like him to meet.”
Miss Delacroix pressed her lips slightly. Lydia gathered from the pause that Miss Delacroix had not received an invitation to the Aldley ball. Nor had Lydia, though it was a matter of supreme indifference to her.
She suddenly felt sympathy for Miss Delacroix. After all, she had never been unkind to Lydia. In fact she had made efforts to befriend her despite their difference in social standing. She was a bit irritating, but she did not deserve this intentional infliction of pain.
“Speaking of which, I hope you will be attending my ball, Miss Delacroix.” They were almost the first words of conversation that Lydia had spoken since she sat down to the card table.
“I have not yet received an invitation, Miss Norwood,” Miss Delacroix replied.
“I do not believe my mother has sent them out yet, but you most certainly shall. I know that you must have a very busy schedule for the season, but I should be very honoured if you came. Lady Goodram and her niece will be attending, so there will be at least one young lady of your social standing. Lady Goodram is a friend of my mother's, you see.”
Miss Delacroix nodded and smiled, a little coldly, but at least she seemed somewhat recovered from Lady Aldley's remarks.
Lydia felt Mr. Delacroix's eyes on her and she turned to him, catching a penetrating look, which he sustained for a half moment before it turned into a little dismissive smirk and shake of the head. She wondered about it, but thought it prudent not to ask. Had she said something remarkable?
“And finally we win a hand.” Lady Aldley laid down the ace she had been saving, then turned suddenly to Lydia. “So your mother is a friend of Lady Goodram's, is she?”
“Yes, my lady.” Lydia would have preferred not to have attracted her ladyship's attention.
“And how do they know each other, pray?” Lady Aldley's question felt to Lydia a bit like an interrogation. Did the countess actually think she was fabricating the connection?
“She is the mother of one of my mother's close friends from childhood. They grew up in the same part of Warwickshire.”
“Hmm.” It was not clear whether she meant to be disapproving and sceptical, or merely thoughtful on the topic.
“Your ladyship has some acquaintance in Warwickshire, I believe. Is it not so? In Warwick?” Mr. Delacroix wore a smile that was so apparently innocent as to invite suspicion—at least from someone with an inkling of his real character.
“I do not know of whom you might be speaking.” Lady Aldley trumped a trick, and led the next.
“Ah, forgive me. I must be mistaken.” Mr. Delacroix took the last trick, and tucked it smoothly into Lady Aldley's cache. “I only thought that some members of the Beauchamps family claimed acquaintance with you.”
“I suppose they might. Mrs. Wurtherly, for example. However, it has been a rather long time since I have laid eyes upon her.” Lady Aldley stood up. “I believe I shall call for my carriage. Perhaps you would like to sit in my place, Mr. Delacroix.”
“Thank you, Lady Aldley. It would be my great honour, though I am afraid I cannot fill the void in the company. My mother will be quite devastated. May I walk your ladyship out?”
“No. I shall be attended by my manservant shortly. Good evening.” They all bowed their farewells.
“Well, that was a sly move, Miss Norwood.” Miss Delacroix gathered the cards and handed them to her brother.
“I am sure I do not know what you could mean.” Lydia looked inquisitively at Miss Delacroix.
“Very clever to drop the name of a Marchioness to Lady Aldley. I see you are much more adept than you let on.” Miss Delacroix's brittle smile could not conceal her irritation.
“I must confess, my country manners are insufficient in London society, and I do not entirely know what I ought, or ought not say.” Lydia wondered what she had said wrong this time.
“Indeed.” Miss Delacroix was not convinced.
“No, sister.” Mr. Delacroix smiled kindly at Lydia, and Miss Dervish seemed to watch the exchange intently. “I believe your friend is entirely truthful. She may have picked up whist rather quickly, but I think she is not accustomed to the other games that ge
t played at dinner parties. I am quite certain she had no intention of making a display of her connections.”
“No! Indeed not!” Lydia was mortified, and there was no restraining the red glow creeping into her cheeks. “Miss Delacroix, I hope you do not think that of me.”
Miss Delacroix examined her for a few moments. “No, I certainly do not think anything of the sort. My brother has misunderstood me. I only meant to say that you are a clever girl. Though I am sure you did not seek to impress Lady Aldley, I believe that you did.”
“She seemed rather more inclined to disbelieve me.” Lydia shook her head. “I do not feel she was impressed in the least.”
“You should be thankful that she paid you any attention at all. She had been rather pointedly ignoring me, and it takes some practice to ignore one's whist partner entirely.” Miss Dervish looked even more lovely when she smiled. Her teeth were perfectly shaped and milk-white.
“Well then, speaking of cards, I believe the deal is with you, Miss Norwood, now that I am no longer the dealer.” Mr. Delacroix's finger tips lingered slightly in contact with her hand as he gave her the cards. And his blue eyes fixed on hers as he added, “I have taken the liberty of shuffling them for you.”
Chapter 6
Lydia's favourite parlour in their London house was small and warm, with a large window and a sizeable fireplace. All the decoratively carved wooden chairs were comfortably worn in and draped with soft wool shawls or sheepskin blankets. They sat out of any order but held their own cheerful assembly in a loose cluster near the hearth.
In the centre sat Lydia and Miss Ravelsham at a small stone table whose inky black surface was polished so finely that one might read one's own fortune in its depths, or examine one's locks in its shallows.
“And how did you enjoy the dinner party, Miss Ravelsham?” Lydia poured tea a little sloppily for her guest, who lounged indolently in one of the larger wooden chairs.
“Oh please call me Tilly. I hope you and I shall be good friends. Especially as your cook makes rather delicious biscuits.” She bit one, then popped a sweet in her mouth with the other hand.
“Tilly, then. And you may call me Lydia, as I am sure you are the best friend I have among the young people in London. Is Tilly short for something?” Lydia instinctively moved the sugar bowl closer to her new friend, who placed two lumps in her cup.
“Mathilde. I am not terribly fond of the name, but I do not have to hear it very often. To answer your question, I thought the party was very interesting. Not so much the party, itself, but the interactions between certain people there.”
“Oh really? I admit it was the interactions that I found least enjoyable. The pheasant was utterly perfect—crisp skin and moist, succulent meat. And that sauce!” Lydia licked her lips at the memory. “Their cook is from Paris, I understand.”
“Ah, you are a gastronome.” Tilly savoured a sip of her sugary tea, which turned her smirking face into a caricature of its own impish glee. “Another thing I like about you. But I should just warn you not to let Gaillot ever hear you call him a cook. I understand he is rather snobbish about being a proper chef, with some justification. The braised pork was pure ecstasy, and I was tempted to hide a few of those meringues under my skirt. But I digress from the point. I witnessed something even more delicious than the second course last night.”
“I can tell that you fervently wish to tell me about it.” Lydia settled back into one of the warm sheepskin throws and smiled. “You do not have to pause for effect, you know.”
“Of course I do. What a silly thing to say. Pausing for effect is quite crucial. In any case, when I left the card table, I was standing with Lady Delacroix and Miss Ferrel. We were talking of books, in fact. Miss Ferrel and Lady Delacroix are both very enthusiastic about novels, you see, which makes me almost forgive the latter for her abysmal taste in décor. But I again digress. While we were speaking, Lady Aldley veritably stomped over and took her leave from Lady Delacroix with a frosty air.”
Lydia chuckled into her tea cup. “You are a bit of a gossip monger, aren't you?”
“How unkind of you.” Tilly feigned shock. “But I do take amusement in laughing at people who think too well of themselves. For a woman of her standing, Lady Aldley really lacks any sort of social grace. She would still be rather handsome if she did not scowl so. But she is all stern superiority without any politesse or intellectual subtlety at all. I cannot help wishing to make a little sport of her. Plus I love a mystery. And it was clear that something put a rather large bee in her ladyship's bonnet. I only wonder what it could have been.”
Lydia was disarmed by her new friend's frankness. It seemed intimate, for surely she would not speak so to just anyone. “I wonder if it had anything to do with my foolishly impolitic comments at the card table.”
Tilly's eyebrows sprang up to point like a bird dog in a field of ducks. “Oh. Do tell. Did you speculate about the scandalous reasons that her son has been away in France for so long?”
“Certainly not. I should never.”
“No, no, of course not. Nor should I, though I have nothing to gain from currying favour with her. I also have nothing against Lord Aldley, having never met the earl. Well, what then?”
Lydia's lips pulled down slightly. “Lady Aldley said something rather biting to Miss Delacroix.”
“Not your favourite person, I should say.”
“No, but perhaps I have been unfair. I felt for her under the circumstances. Lady Aldley emphasized that only suitable young ladies would be invited to her ball and would meet her son, when it was obvious that Miss Delacroix had not been invited.” Lydia looked a little concerned. “I believe Miss Delacroix may have some affection for Lady Aldley's son—”
Tilly interrupted her. “An earl who is worth about eighty thousand a year? Yes, I dare say she is violently in love with him, though to my knowledge they have never met.”
“Oh surely it is more than that.” Lydia searched Tilly's face to see if there were some small trace of seriousness hiding anywhere in its playful character.
“Well, perhaps. But all the best experts of the ton fix him at about eighty thousand.”
Lydia could not help laughing, but continued to protest, “You are quite droll, but you know very well I mean that Miss Delacroix cannot only be thinking of that. She seemed very wounded by her ladyship's comments.”
“Well, perhaps it is more. Perhaps Lord Aldley has had secret dealings with her...”
“No. No indeed! That is not what I meant to say.” Lydia laughed at Tilly who had resorted to wildly wiggling her brows. “How do you do that?”
“It is a gift, much like my gift for distorting the kind words of my innocent friend into tinder for a sordid scandal.” Tilly slurped the last of her tea, and helped herself to more, and two more lumps of sugar.
“But really, in all seriousness, you must not say such things.” Lydia tried to maintain a sober expression. “And whatever Miss Delacroix's hopes are, however little I enjoy her company, she does not deserve to be cut down so cruelly by Lady Aldley.”
“Perhaps, but in any case, it is not the sort of thing that would make her ladyship angry, I should think. Cutting down a chit before she has the chance to even lift her gaze to the golden son seems rather more the type of activity that the dowager countess would greatly enjoy. I should hazard a guess that it quite invigorates her.”
“Where on earth did you learn to talk this way?” Lydia was diverted. “Please never do so in my mother's hearing, else she will forbid our acquaintance.”
“Oh believe me, I know how to address polite company. It is just that I could tell that neither of us is really polite company, am I not correct? Though you are clearly a bit more polite than I. Have you any more of those biscuits?”
Lydia rang the bell. “So, to continue, I felt sorry for Miss Delacroix.”
“That was your first mistake. A young lady like Miss Delacroix cannot tolerate pity from girls she considers her inferiors.”
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Lydia grimaced. “Yes, I see your point. But that is not the worst of it. I wanted to change the subject and make her feel better, so I expressed a hope that she would be attending our ball, and pointed out that there would be some guests of her calibre, like Lady Goodram and her niece, for example.”
“Oh dear.”
“Is that so very bad?” Lydia looked apprehensively at Tilly.
“You could almost not have said a worse thing—but the fault lies principally with Miss Delacroix's overinflated hopes for the evening. First, you were making a display of your acquaintance in front of a lady before whom she had hoped you would appear inferior. Second, there is a slight implication that you might assist her in society.”
“Good Lord! I never intended anything of the sort.” A red glow of mortification seeped into Lydia's face. Why did she always put her foot in things?
Tilly lowered her lids and nodded.“I know it. I doubt if someone like Miss Delacroix does, however. She does not appear a very complex creature, but she and her mother have enough cunning to stack a dinner party with a rather lot of commoners who were certain to make her look superior by comparison.
She took a gulp of tea, then continued, “You noted, I imagine, that the ladies at the party were all older and mostly married, and that the young women were of no rank and little connection, though all rich enough. And I need not add that there were hardly any men in attendance, which is very bad form. I think it would be difficult for Miss Delacroix to believe that some people are motivated differently than herself.”
