He continued to call on Mr. Thompson each week and had been pleased to introduce him to a scholarly gentleman of vast riches who had been one of his fathers’s pupils. This distinguished scholar had become one of the early more enthusiastic bidders on the talisman, and though eventually he withdrew from the field, Mr. Thompson was happy to credit him with setting a nice competitive tone to the bidding which significantly influenced the outcome. This early success encouraged Mr. Thompson to rely on him for other helpful services, which soon became the highlights of his week.
It was not that James did not enjoy the various social events to which he was invited. The problem was, he realized, that although he had been raised to be a gentleman, he had not been raised to be a gentleman of leisure. His father had earned his living with great distinction as a teacher, and despite having a small competence upon which he could have lived modestly without employment, James had always intended to follow a similar path. It’s true that the shock of his parents’ deaths had thrown him off his stride for a while, but he had never really wavered in his calling to the life of an educationist.
The prospect of inheriting Lynnfield had seemed to him more an impediment than a boon, for he saw all too well that it would be the work of a lifetime to finish what Elaine had begun and bring the estate back into health without a large fortune to support it. With the sale of the talisman and the removal of all mortgages from Lynnfield, he had felt an enormous burden lifted from his shoulders.
He had thoroughly enjoyed participating in Elaine and Miss Miles’ school for the village children, and he found himself hungry for something worthwhile to spend his time on and resentful of the aimless life he was now expected to lead.
For one thing, he was by both inclination and habit an early riser, and the late night card parties and amusements gradually began to steal his mornings away from him. He found himself sleeping later and later, and then he would wake up cross at having missed his early morning ride.
Then, too, he was spending money at an uncomfortable rate. He had had to expend what seemed to him an unreasonable sum on formal evening wear that though simple by society’s standards seemed to him extravagant and even frivolous. He had been forced, finally, to hire a young valet to polish his boots, brush his coats and generally keep his growing wardrobe in order. The stabling of his horse was a good deal more costly than he had expected, and though he generally won as much money as he lost at cards, he experienced a certain level of anxiety each time he lost that was not compensated for by any great excitement at winning. He worried that he might after all have inherited the Howard weakness for gaming, but when he expressed his concern to Charles, the Viscount laughed so hard, he could not help but smile as well.
“My dear,” Charles crowed, “please do give me leave to tell this story at White’s, for it will bring no end of merriment to all who know you. For no one I know is less inclined to that weakness. You must understand, that for a true gamester the delirium of winning far outweighs any fear of losing, while you are just the opposite. I have never known such a sober faced winner as you.”
“If it could be told without disparaging Mr. Howard, I would give you leave to tell the tale,” James replied grinning, “but I fear it would seem disrespectful.”
“Lord, yes! Well, it is a pity, but this will have to stay between the two of us. Now tell me, what is this really about?”
“It is nothing. Merely that I am spending the ready at too fast a rate. I daresay that I will have no more major expenses now that I am settled in, and if necessary, I can always sell my horse and save the cost of stabling him.“
“Surely you are not in dun territory!” Charles exclaimed.
“Oh nothing of that sort, just that I am trying to live within my income, for I am reluctant to waste all my prize money on frivolity and haberdashery.”
“Live within your income? Now that tale I must share! Really James, your income is of absolutely no concern. Why if that is the answer to your abominable sense of style, please relieve yourself of any worries and come out with me now to buy yourself a more decorative waistcoat. There is not a single merchant in London worth his salt that would dream of dunning the heir of an unmortgaged Lynnfield. Why they haven’t even begun dunning me yet, and everyone knows the state Challon is in. I keep giving them a little something on account and then order something new to keep them happy.”
James laughed at that, but refused to alter his wardrobe. “I’ve no desire to go about looking like a peacock, nor to start spending on the basis of an inheritance I have yet to receive. Leave me be, Charles. I don’t know why I’m even talking to you.”
“Nor do I, but I’m glad you are. I’m not saying I deserve your friendship, no, nor that I have hopes of ever earning it, but damn me, James, if I ever stop trying.”
James looked at his old friend and sighed. “Leave go, Charles. You owe me nothing. I betrayed myself and I must pay the price. As for us, well, as Miss Howard pointed out, we’ve a long habit of friendship, and it seems I haven’t the will to break free. In any case, I am quite resigned to the fact that I must rely upon you to keep me from making any gross errors that could cause the Howards grief.”
And so he continued to accept invitations and attend social events, mindful that in this way at least he was able to serve Elaine. Anne was due to arrive in London soon. James was certain she would be a great success and was determined not to create any whisper of a shadow over her Season. He would be her friend and do whatever he could to make her comfortable.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: In which Miss Anne begins her Season.
Mary Hastings accompanied Anne to their Aunt Katherine’s at the beginning of March, with portmanteaus piled high on top of the familiar traveling coach that Lady Benton had sent out to Lynnfield to fetch her.
Elaine and Libby stood together and watched them drive away.
“Well, it is just the two of us now, Libby dear,” Elaine said then, with a very small sigh that caused her companion to wince in sympathy. “And Papa of course. I must take care to spend more time with him now, for he will miss our Anne sorely and need cheering up.”
Libby thought it unlikely that Elaine’s resolute but unconvincing cheerfulness would produce its desired effect but considered it unprofitable to say so. She knew her young friend well enough to know that she would find her own way or not at all. So she replied merely, “So shall we all miss her, and our dear Mary Hastings, too.” And the two women went back into the house.
And indeed, they scarcely had an opportunity to miss them, for Anne wrote almost every day and Mary Hastings almost as often. Sir Edmund had kept his word, Anne said in her first, hastily written note, showing up at Lady Benton’s house the very first day to take her for a ride in his phaeton. It had been a cold day, but she had worn her warmest pelisse and a new bonnet and he had wrapped a blanket around her most snugly. They had taken just one turn around the park and so had not stayed out in the chill air long, but she wrote that she had enjoyed herself immensely.
Anne’s second letter quite dazzled with reports of the Queen’s Drawing Room and how strange it had felt to curtsy so deep in the formal gown without causing the stiff unforgiving hoop to tip up unbecomingly and without tripping over all the fabric that was gathered together to make up the full skirt. She had become quite fatigued from standing so long waiting her turn to be presented to the Queen, but then when she was finally introduced, the Queen had distinguished Anne by speaking to her briefly and had even asked after Elaine. Aunt Katherine said later that merely meant she had been listening to the latest on dits, like everyone else and was curious about the legacy, but Anne had been overwhelmed by the thought that the Queen remembered Elaine after four years and by her condescension in asking after her. Anne had passed the remainder of the event admiring all the colors of the court gowns, for only those in their first Season wore white. Really the dresses were amazingly ugly, and yet when taken all together, the ladies flowed like a great rainbow across the floor and
were really quite pretty. Indeed Anne missed her dear Elaine very much and even Aunt Katherine had commented that it was a pity that there was no occasion to put their scheme into practice of getting the ton to accept Elaine’s old Court dress.
Later missives were overflowing with her impressions of the grand balls she was attending, with tales of route parties and nights at the theatre, of gentlemen admirers and young ladies who were pleased to claim her as their friend. Sir Edmund continued to call, as did their Cousin James, both gentlemen kindly offering to escort her to Almacks on Thursdays or to any entertainment she liked. Aunt Katherine was all that was goodness itself and was forever buying her trinkets to go with one gown or another – some satin slippers, a decoration for a bonnet, a pair of gloves, a reticule – nothing so very expensive in itself, but all beyond Anne’s carefully watched budget, and altogether adding up to an impressive array of fripperies.
Lady Benton had introduced her to so many people of the highest consequence that she could scarce remember all their names, but her sweet little cousin Maura was helping her by watching out the window and whispering their names to her before they even entered the house.
Alicia’s baby girl had been born in late February and was still very tiny, but such a joy to behold, and had a tiny little hand that gripped one’s finger so tight you could scarcely credit it. The dear baby was named Maria Elaine and no one could be happier or prouder of her than her godmama’s younger sister.
Anne’s letters were a great reassurance to her sister and father, as were Mary’s more moderately phrased communications. Alicia and Aunt Katherine also wrote accounts praising Anne’s good manners and vivacity and charm, and declaring that she was taking the Town by storm. It seemed that gentlemen of all ages and rank flocked to the elegant home of Lord and Lady Benton to leave their cards along with bouquets of flowers for the young Miss Anne Howard, poems written in her honor, and offers to escort her to all sorts of entertainments. Invitations to balls, routes, dinner parties, concerts, masquerades, and theater parties came in each delivery of the mail and were exclaimed over and examined carefully by Lady Benton and lined up on the drawing room mantelpiece in order of consequence.
Indeed Anne was genuinely grateful for guidance in such matters and followed her Aunt’s suggestions unfailingly. It was a giddy and pleasurable time for her, and yet sometimes at night, after Hastings had helped her undress and settled her in bed, Anne found herself lying awake at night, exhausted by the day’s events but still unable to sleep, wondering what was wrong with her that all of this still seemed not to be enough. “Ungrateful!” she labeled herself, thinking of all Elaine’s sacrifices and her Aunt’s generosity. “Unnatural!” she fumed, and yet still, at night, she found herself longing for Lynnfield Manor with all its economies and deprivations. “Spoiled brat!” she wailed silently into her pillow.
In fact nothing was wrong with her but an occasional bout of homesickness, but Anne, ever quick to find fault with herself, could not understand how all the entertainments and pleasures she was afforded (and she did truly enjoy herself), and all the admiration and pretty phrases directed towards her left her sometimes feeling empty and unsure of herself.
All of her self-recriminations faded during the day, for indeed she was almost always much too busy to indulge herself. Whenever she could, she would call on Alicia and the baby, luxuriating in the quiet comfort of her sister’s friend’s household. Once Maura accompanied her there, but after only a few minutes admiring the baby her young friend was anxious to be off again, for they had planned an expedition to the most unfashionable Grafton House emporium where the two girls hoped to find any number of small essentials at bargain prices. Indeed their foray into the bazaar was most successful, netting them several pairs of silk stockings each at only eleven shillings a pair as well as some fine grosgrain trim that was exactly what was needed to refurbish one of Maura’s gowns. Although Lady Benton was initially rather shocked that one of her progeny should enter such an unlikely establishment, she could find no fault with their purchases and indeed later laughed about their expedition with her friends, enjoying the drollery of her ever impatient daughter and sweet niece waiting fifteen minutes or more to pay a pittance for small luxuries.
Anne took care to go alone to Alicia’s after that and sometimes stayed as long as an hour or more, chatting to her friend and holding the dear baby. She might have wished to confide in Alicia, but feared Elaine’s greater claim on Alicia’s friendship would lead her to inform her sister about the long sleepless nights, and it was Anne’s firm intention never to let her elder sister know what an ungrateful wretch she was.
Sometimes she thought she might confide in Sir Edmund Pace, whom she frequently encountered at his sister’s house, for he was becoming a dear friend to her, someone who could be counted on to provide her with his escort for any sort of expedition and to make her laugh at some absurdity. She thought him very kind to take such pains over her and could only conclude that despite Elaine’s disclaimers, Sir Edmund had indeed formed a great kindness for her elder sister. He was too much the gentleman, however, to wear his heart upon his sleeve and showed his devotion rather by rendering services to his loved one’s younger sister. She wondered that her sister could not love him, for he was the kindest creature imaginable, and quite handsome besides.
Anne wondered too that her heart seemed to startle in her chest and her breath caught whenever he first appeared, making her most uncomfortable when there was not the slightest reason for her to be frightened by him. He never seemed to notice her unease, but merely smiled and lifted the baby from her arms and played with it, making silly sounds and singing absurd little ditties. Or if the baby was in the nursery, he would engage Alicia and Anne in conversation, always with some silly tale that would make them both laugh, and soon she would be easy once more. Anne could only marvel that Elaine did not return his regard.
Indeed, she thought he was kindness itself. He kept his promise to escort her about the town and took her to Westminster Abbey and St, Paul’s Cathedral as well as to the Guildhall, the Mint, and the British Museum. Her Cousin James also made himself available to her and between the two of them, she could be certain of never having to miss an expedition or sit out a single dance.
One day they both arrived to call upon her at the same time, with the result that the three of them ventured out sightseeing together. She had been a little wary at first on account of their both having courted Elaine in the past, but it seemed that they had already made each other’s acquaintance over a billiards game at White’s and were on the way to becoming good friends.
This excursion took them to Burlington House to see the marbles that Lord Elgin had brought back to England from Greece. Although the statues were sadly broken, she could imagine what they must have looked like when they were new and the long stone friezes were really quite stunning. Some of the figures depicted there had made her blush, for they were in an alarming state of undress, but she could not help but admire the beauty and vitality of their form.
Her Cousin James soon made her quite comfortable by ignoring her initial embarrassment and explaining in quite a matter of fact voice the myths behind the figures and pointing out the odd creatures depicted – her favorite was a Centaur who was half man and half horse, really as beautiful as it was horrible to behold.
Sir Edmund explained to her the great controversy that had arisen as to whether or not it was proper of Lord Elgin to have denuded the Parthenon of its stonework, no matter what permission the Ottomans might have given him. All in all, she found it most interesting and felt most gratified to know that in the future she would be able to speak of the marbles with some degree of understanding.
Apart from her time at St. James Square and her expeditions with Sir Edward and her Cousin James, however, Anne frequently found her life in London to be confusing. She had so many suitors coming and going all day, all of them most amiable, that she wondered how it was she was supposed to choose one for a husb
and. Aunt Katherine quickly winnowed out those she considered ineligible, whether due to a lack of fortune, poor breeding, or simply bad ton, and as none of these young men had succeeded in attracting Anne’s interest, she saw them depart without a qualm. Her problem was that while all of the approved gentlemen were amiable and some of them vastly entertaining, no one seemed to stand out among the rest. Indeed, she liked them all very well and yet could not help but feel that she knew very little about any of them. How could one know from how a gentleman danced the Quadrille or how he tied his neckcloth or conversed over dinner or even showered one with poetical compliments, whether or not he would be a good “partner” in life, a wise head with finances, or an admirable parent to their children?
Really, for the first time, she began to sympathize with Elaine’s failure to find a husband during her Season and began to wonder if she would perhaps also fail to succeed in hers.
These thoughts she did confide in Alicia, who listened carefully and then said, somewhat mysteriously, that she would do well not to worry so much about such matters. “Believe me, my dear, it is better to trust your own heart than to listen to the advice of others, including mine. Or Elaine’s for that matter. It is clear to me that none of your suitors has yet engaged your heart. I can only advise you to wait until one does, and in the meantime, to simply enjoy your success. Go to your balls and parties and to the theater just as you have been doing.”
With this Anne had to be content, and in fact, she found as time passed and she became more accustomed to her busy life in London, that although she continued to miss her sister and father, there were fewer sleepless nights and she yielded less frequently to her tendency towards self-recrimination.
Mr. Howard’s health had stabilized once more, so that although he was weak, he was not helpless, and at last Elaine decided it was time for her to venture to London and see for herself how her sister was faring. Advance word of her arrival had spread quickly through the ton, so that only hours after her arrival, her suitors began to show up at Berkeley Square and wait upon her in Lady Benton’s rather grand drawing room. Elaine determinedly refused all invitations that did not include her sister, thus avoiding most opportunities for tete-a-tete conversations that could lead to serious efforts at courtship.
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