‘And I suppose you mean to make Miss Oldfield believe that her aunt is paying for all?’
‘Of course. I believe Genevieve will stay with us if you have no objection.’
‘None in the world,’ he said. But he remained puzzled. How would the plain, down to earth Genevieve Sumner fare with his sophisticated wife? There could be no two creatures so different.
‘I know what you think, my dear. But Genevieve and I have something in common. We are women who have had to make our own way in the world, without support of family or society. That is a deeper bond than you may think.’
Lord Oswald Frederick Sumner, was perturbed. He did not seem to be able to gain the attention of Genevieve, Lady Sumner, even by dint of a projectile. It was a direct hit, but after a brief smiling glance his way, she continued to look at a letter. Lord Oswald, unimpressed, screamed. This caused him to be airborne in a trice, thrown up towards the shoulder of a nanny, who seemed to be carrying him away from the object of his desire.
Another young girl has found herself displaced from her home and position by inheritance. We may be her only chance to have a season
(Genevieve was a little put out by this — women everywhere paraded in the marriage mart! —but she was not fool enough to be insensitive to the need.)
I can provide much for her, but you could lend your respectability
(Lady Aurora needing her respectability? How delicate was the web protecting a girl’s fair name. But Genevieve could see she was right. For the high sticklers to good form, there may be a question over a protégé of her ladyship.)
I pray you, give us a few weeks to launch her. Serena and Honoria might be back in town before the season ends, and I know you would like to see them again. London will be a different experience for you now that you are neither a debutante or under that other sort of cloud, I assure you. You may even like it.
Genevieve doubted it, but Aurora’s appeal had reached its mark, she feared. She sighed.
Felicity, having spent a strange evening with her aunt, who chose to ignore her presence in the blue sitting room, eventually sought the library, seeking a book to immerse herself in. Miss Fleet, who looked more fearful than even Felicity herself did, came in to inform her, in an embarrassed tone that the library was denied to anyone but her ladyship.
‘Am I forbidden books — is her ladyship worried that I will take them?’
Miss Fleet looked pained, ‘This was Lord Ellingham’s refuge and she says none but she can enter.’
‘Well, and a legion of staff, if I’m not mistaken. There is not a speck of dust anywhere, and I hardly think my aunt cleans it herself.’
Miss Fleet, who had looked close to tears delivering the unpleasant message, gave a stifled giggle at this and Felicity smiled and walked forward to her. ‘Never mind,’ she said confidentially, ‘I cannot find a single novel. There are only the dustiest of old tomes.’
‘Oh, do you like novels? I admit they are my only—’ she stopped herself abruptly.
‘Solace?’ smiled Felicity, whilst Miss Fleet blushed and avoided her eye. ‘Please don’t worry about saying so to me, Miss Fleet. I can see that your situation is not happy-’
‘Oh, do not think me deficient in gratitude. Lady Ellingham has given me a home and I am very h-h-happy—’
Felicity walked forward briskly. ‘Of course you are grateful. I was too, when I received just such an offer after my father died. But I came to London to avoid it nevertheless.’
Miss Fleet met her eyes a little timidly.
Felicity moved towards the hall. ‘What time is breakfast Miss Fleet?’
‘Oh, your aunt breakfasts at just before noon, generally. But Beatty sets something up for me in the morning room at seven. I shall move to the small salon, if you wish. Your sisters preferred to breakfast alone.’
‘Oh, that would be Amity!’ Felicity leaned forward confidingly, ‘I am afraid she is a cat. Well, I shall join you, if you do not mind, at seven for breakfast.’
Miss Fleet smiled, but it wavered, and Felicity thought she would have her work cut out to make her smile genuinely.
But an hour later, when Felicity was tucked up between freezing sheets, Miss Fleet, wearing a thick cotton nightdress and an old fashioned mob cap came in hesitantly, then she rushed forward and laid a book on her night table.
‘I obtain these when I attend the subscription library for Lady Ellingham. I’m afraid it is rather thrilling!’ she whispered and disappeared as quick as a mouse.
‘Tha—’ Felicity said to the locked door. She picked up the volume. The Italian, or The Confessional of the Black Penitents, by Ann Radcliffe. She shivered in delicious anticipation. Soon she was in Naples, in the company of the noble Vicentio, his love Ellena, and watching, in fearful dread, the machinations of the wicked priest, Father Schedoni.
At breakfast, Felicity was rather heavy-eyed, having read for the entire length of her candle. She expressed her gratitude to Miss Fleet, and said that she was already completely enmeshed in the tale. She was surprised that little Miss Fleet, roused, chattered like parrot about the book, ‘Schedoni is such a villain, he stoops to such dreadful tricks to separate the lovers, but later—’
‘Oh, pray do not tell me, Miss Fleet. I shall relish the rest better if I cannot guess.’
As Beatty, the long-of-face butler, was serving the chocolate, Felicity saw his brows raise just a moment at the animation of the usually terrified little lady. His eyes met hers, and Felicity thought she saw the ghost of a smile. She returned it with a broader one and he dropped his eyes again, but Felicity saw a twitch on his lips that betrayed him.
‘Beatty,’ she said before he left the room, ‘Thank you so much for this early breakfast. As it is in addition to her ladyship’s, it makes more work for you and cook. Do thank her.’
Beatty paused and bowed slightly saying, ‘Miss.’
‘Lady Aurora is coming for me this morning to take me for a drive in the park, I believe. Should you like to come, Miss Fleet? I think we might return before my aunt has breakfasted.’
Miss Fleet started, ‘How very kind of you, Miss Oldfield. I cannot, I’m afraid. Her ladyship gives me leave to visit my sister today, as long as I am back before her breakfast finishes, of course.’
‘Of course. You have family?’ Felicity heard some commotion in the hall and leapt up. ‘It is Lady Aurora! I must go, dear lady. But you shall tell me all about your family when I return.’
It was a rather different expedition with her ladyship than Felicity foresaw — much longer, as she only just returned before dinner, and utterly enjoyable.
She knew precisely how many dresses were de rigueur for a season. Her sisters had carefully shown her each garment that they had purchased in London and told her where they had worn them. It was a perfectly wonderful amount and Felicity had been justifiably a little envious. As she was a foot taller than her siblings, there was not even the opportunity to borrow the finery. But after all, her time would come, she’d thought, with only a daily nudging reminder to Papa necessary. She’d been unaware that fate would steal it and him from her.
But the twins had never had such clothes as these. Or so many. Lady Aurora had said that Aunt Ellingham was the source of this munificence, but Felicity, blushingly grateful, could see no reason why her aunt would sanction at least twice the wardrobe as was given to the twins.
‘Oh, perhaps she is generous since she knows that your papa cannot be. She is such a vague old dear that she probably remembers the sum he allotted for the twins and has matched it, quite forgetting that you are only one!’
Felicity smiled at this, but still frowned a little. The quality of the clothes had accompanied them home today seemed to outrun her sisters’ too, and she shyly said so to Lady Aurora.
‘Perhaps,’ her lady ship ventured, ‘as I am a little younger than your aunt, I know the most fashionable and economical of the dress makers.’
Felicity had surrendered to being deliciously spoilt. She
knew that Lady Aurora’s taste was infallible, and that she was directing and improving the designs shown to them. Felicity was tall, though not, thankfully, a beanpole. But the dresses must therefore be slim of line, especially around the shoulders, with no extra width, so as not to suggest pugilist. Felicity giggled at this and Lady Aurora apologised. ‘I am afraid on the subject of dress I am thoroughly blunt, my dear — and a little insulting, says my Mr Fenton. I once told him a waistcoat made him look like a French king’s mistress. He pretended to be very offended. I cannot seem to help it.’
Felicity gurgled. ‘Papa called me the maypole, so do not fear for my sensibilities.’
‘I do not much comment on how people look, you know,’ said her companion, nibbling on a French tart that had been brought in from a neighbouring baker to sustain the ladies in their labours. ‘It is only that clothes can do so much to hide deficiencies of form — or to exaggerate them. It is a very serious matter.’
‘Yes, your ladyship,’ twinkled Felicity in response.
‘Yes, that model is a very handsome colour for her,’ her ladyship was saying to the dressmaker, ‘if only you can reduce the puff at the shoulder. Yes, I know that it is more fashionable now, but it would not become Miss Oldfield, broad as her shoulders already are. No, last year’s sleeves are better, and will complement the drape. I wish we could get that green silk, it would become you so well, my dear. But it is a trifle sophisticated for a debutante.’
‘And a trifle dear, I think!’
‘Oh, let’s spend Lady Ellingham’s wealth with gusto, my dear. She is a very rich old lady.’
After quite an exhausting time, walking between establishments beside Lady Aurora’s energetic figure, and eating sweetmeats at every stop, the carriage was so replete with packages that there was hardly room for the ladies. There were very many more models to arrive. The hats that had to be trimmed with ribbons to match her four pelisses and six spencers, the gowns that were being made from fabric samples Lady Aurora approved, and the gloves, muffs, sunshades, and delicate under apparel that her ladyship declared herself too fatigued to see, leaving it to the discretion of the merchant.
They were about to return to Half Moon Street, when Lady Aurora, seeing Felicity step aboard the carriage, said, ‘Oh, the boot maker! We must go! It is of no use saying that we can leave that to chance, for uncomfortable boots or slippers are not to be borne.’ She turned to the groom who was assisting Felicity to mount. ‘Run ahead to Mount Street and tell them not to close — that we shall arrive shortly.’
It was just a matter of minutes before they had arrived at the bootmakers. They had found some slippers, suitable for dyeing by Madame Hortense or Madame Godot, the dressmakers, to match the colour of the gowns. And in the meantime she had purchased some blue slippers to match a pelisse, and some comfortable boots suitable for longer walks.
As Lady Aurora’s carriage finally pulled up at her aunt’s, she drew Felicity into her arms and said, ‘I had such pleasure today! I have long wished for a daughter and I hope that she would have been just like you.’
Felicity returned the embrace warmly. She had not been hugged so since childhood. ‘And you would have been the best mother a young lady could dream of. Not that you are old enough to—’ she was confused and a little tearful.
Lady Aurora laughed a little hoarsely. ‘Oh, my dear. I fear I am too selfish to be a mama.’
‘Oh, no—’ Felicity was confused. ‘I shall have to tell my aunt to expect so many parcels!’ she said, turning the subject while they both recovered a little.
Lady Aurora seemed to have to find something in her reticule as Felicity dismounted. ‘Oh, as to that, my dear, I have caused them to be sent to my home for the moment. So that I can — make sure of the quality!’
‘Of course. Thank you so much for the wonderful day.’ She turned to look at Mrs Fenton who was smiling down at her.
‘Thank you, my sweet Felicity. You have a very cheerful disposition. You seem to increase the happiness of those around you.’
Chapter 3
The Viscount and a Lady
After Durant delivered his annoyance at her guardian’s house in Kent, and received the joyous exclamations of his aunt Charlotte on the successful purchase of the new house much nearer to town, he retrieved his horse and did his duty to his friend Anne Clarence. This was a woman he had known since childhood, now attendant on her dying mother at their home, Little Clarence, on the other side of the village from Chester House.. The house called Little Clarence may once have been little indeed, but the old Elizabethan building had been added to by any number of Clarences to make the handsome stately home of today. Anne was a friend, a delightful person whose mother’s infirmity had kept him from town, except for short visits. He had thought of her a good deal for a few weeks now, since the death of a friend had caused him to face his own mortality. And the continuation of his name.
She was crossing the grand hall of Little Clarence as he was admitted, and went forward to him with both hands extended. He clasped them and looked down at her, smiling. She was a tallish girl with merry green eyes, and she was wearing a mustard coloured muslin gown with long tight sleeves, with a fetching purple striped bodice, like a sleeveless spencer, over it. Her brown hair was arranged tall on her head, with ringlets escaping at the back and a purple striped ribbon woven through. ‘My dear Anne, how do you always contrive to look so up-to-the-mark when you hardly visit town?’
‘I am interested in the latest fashions you know, and I have La Belle Assemblée delivered monthly — I’m afraid I seldom read the more worthy articles and only pour over the fashion plates. And I have a very clever sister, too, who sends me wonderful lengths of muslin and silk, and a genius of a maid who can interpret the patterns. You too, my lord, look at the apex of style, if I am not mistaken.’
Durant smiled. ‘Ah, you are out there. I can move quite freely in this coat and if I were to be a real leader of fashion, I should be unable to breathe.’
‘Then I am quite glad you do not seek to be a dandy,’ she said, laughing. ‘What brings you, Sebastian? Is everyone at Chester House well? Come into the parlour and I’ll send for some refreshments. Mama is sleeping.’
He put her hand through his arm and they walked companionably to the pink salon, not as hard on the eyes as other such places, just delicately feminine and bright, overlooking the large lawn. The sun streamed in at this time of day and Durant said, ‘So pretty!’
‘Careful. If I were a woman given to romantical notions, I could have taken that as a very interesting compliment to myself and not the room. When you left I would think on it too much and then when you forgot to write to me for three months, as you have done recently, I would finish by going into a decline.’
He laughed, but regarded her carefully. ‘Are you not romantic then?’
She turned her fine profile away from him. ‘How can I know? If I had had time to flirt, I might have been wonderful at it. But instead I have been here, and have had no practice.’
Durant took a turn around the room. ‘How is your mother?’ he said at last.
‘The doctor said that she has not long now. Perhaps weeks only. I’m afraid that she hardly knows me.’
‘I’m so sorry, my dear.’ He held her hands again, and her eyes watered a little, then she tilted her chin and smiled at him. ‘What do you intend to do, Anne, when—?’
‘I have hardly thought of that. I suppose I must hire a companion, like the other old tabbies. Perhaps I might visit town, or Bath perhaps, to start with. London might be a little too exciting.’
‘You are seven and twenty years old. Hardly an old tabby yet, my dear. I have a proposition for you.’
Anne lifted her eyes. ‘Do you know of someone then?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘A gently bred female who may need employment?’
Durant thought of the governess he had selfishly importuned. Gently bred, certainly, but hardly suitable. For a job as a governess,
too, he thought. Such a young and pretty piece... This line of thought was not furthering his cause.
‘No. I’m asking you to marry me, Anne,’ he said gently.
Something passed across her face, something that Durant, who knew her well, did not recognise.
‘What madness is this?’
‘I have been on the town for ten years, my dear. And I have never found a woman I liked as much as you. It is time to set up my future, and I thought that this is the same time in your life.’ Anne Clarence lowered her eyes so that he could not read their expression. ‘We deal well together, don’t we? We have the same background—’
‘I fear I must be more romantic than I thought. I wished for more in a husband than convenience.’ Durant could think of nothing to say. She looked at him gravely. ‘But there could be worse fates than to marry a handsome viscount who is also your dear friend.’ Durant leaned forward, caught her hand, and kissed it.
‘Your enthusiasm overwhelms me, dearest.’
She laughed. ‘I have not yet said yes, Sebastian. There are certain traits I cannot tolerate in a husband.’ She looked at him from beneath her lashes.
‘My days as a rake would be over I assure you, my dear. I always felt my reputation was exaggerated in that regard.’
‘That is not what concerns me. You are something of a curmudgeon when you don’t get your way, Bastian. I need a more uplifting atmosphere at breakfast.’
‘A curmudgeon?’ said his lordship, shocked. ‘Have I been with you my dear?’
‘No, but I have seen it in your dealings with others, none the less. You do not always see the joy in the world.’
‘Ah, it is true. But I should have you to change my mood, Anne.’
‘A heavy responsibility.’ She looked at him quizzically. ‘But I suppose I might do it.’
He bowed heavily and possessed himself of her hand. ‘You do me a great honour.’
She smiled, then rang for some celebratory wine.
Mr Wilbert Fenton, who after his marriage, had begun to think of himself (privately) as the most fortunate man in the world, was amused by his wife’s interest in Felicity, and somewhat amused by the girl herself. In his former life as debt-ridden gambler, hedonist, and promiscuous bachelor — and therefore, inevitably, an intimate of the Prince Regent — he leaned heavily on the support of his slightly elder brother and happy family man Sir Ranalph Fenton. He had never thought to escape the eventual consequences of his own folly as a young man, of choosing, in his anger at his father, a life of dissipation. He had long been bored with that life by the time that his young nephew Benedict had been attacked, in part because of him. It had sobered him completely (for a time) and he’d decided to ask his old friend Countess Overton to be his wife, intending that he would help her in her gambling establishment and thus earn his living, stepping away from fashionable life, and hang on his brother’s sleeve no more.
Felicity and the Damaged Reputation: A witty, sweet Regency Romance Page 4
