Chapter 11
Romantic Disaster
Her dear friends, both in the carriage ride home and at breakfast the next morning, told her what a triumph the Almacks ball had been, but Felicity could only think that she never ever wanted to have such another evening. For all the small victories, it had been truly horrific. Looking on the bright side, which her friends insisted she did, and which was Felicity’s usual habit, she now knew who was likely to support her (a goodly number) and who was determined to turn from her (the majority, it seemed to Felicity, even given the gentlemen that the lieutenant and the captain had forced to dance with her. If these gentlemen had attending family, she could see the disapproval in the eyes of their mamas.) However, she listened to all the reassurances as best she could, and smiled and agreed. She would rather run than run the gauntlet once more, but everyone was full of plans for the new day. Lord Carswell was going to drive her, Lady Sumner and young Mr Fenton out today, and they would accidentally meet with Lord Durant, who would take her and Lady Sumner up in his carriage. This was fraught with irregularity. Normally, Lord Durant would drive a sporting vehicle in the park, and take a lady up on her own, with no sense of impropriety attached. But in this case, extra precaution was needed, so Durant would be driven in a landau, and there would thus be room for all three. Felicity could only hope he did not include Lady Letitia in the expedition, as her head, now throbbing, might just split apart.
The morning drive went as anticipated, Lord Durant himself handed the ladies into his carriage and held Felicity a back for a second. ‘You look pale - are you quite alright?’
‘Of course, my lord.’ She made to step forward, but he held her back. ‘Please, sir, someone may remark—’ panicked eyes looked around and then up at him. He grasped her hand more tightly.
‘I cannot forgive myself. What a trial all this is for you. Only because of a selfish moment of mine.’
Her eyes lost their panicked look and replaced it with a kind one. She returned his hand squeeze. ‘No, no. Pray do not refine too much upon it.’ He was once more aware, that in apologising he was receiving comfort. He even wondered if he was seeking it. Lady Sumner bent to take her hand and she released his and climbed into the carriage.
Durant joined, them, sitting opposite, determined to make Felicity’s strained smile into a real one. ‘I must say, ladies, that you both look surprisingly energetic the morning after so much dancing.’
‘We are neither of us slouchers,’ said Lady Sumner, after leaving a little gap in case Felicity wished to speak. She did not. ‘Miss Oldfield and I rise early for our ride most mornings. Sometimes we drive. She is becoming a capital whip.’
Felicity smiled at this. ‘It is unlike you to flatter, dear Lady Sumner,’ she said, her smile more mischievous.
‘Then you know I do not. You are not first-class as yet, but by the end of the season—’ This effectively wiped the smile from Felicity’s face, which she replaced with the false one in a mere half-second.
‘And I must admire your bonnet, Miss Oldfield. From Madame Celeste’s?’ asked Durant, into the breach.
‘You are perfectly right. How clever of you,’ she said seriously. ‘How could you know that?’
Lady Sumner, not quite liking the tone of this conversation (flirting with Felicity was not the purpose of this ride — quite the opposite) said dryly, ‘Yes indeed. How on earth—?’
Durant, meeting Lady Sumner’s eye, said, ‘My cousin is a client.’
Again it was the wrong thing. Lady Sumner rolled her eyes as Felicity, despite trying not to, stiffened for a second. ‘The horses are well-matched sir. Almost the equal of a pair I have at home.’
Durant raised an eyebrow. ‘Almost?’
‘I never lie about horses sir. A pair of greys.’
‘It sounds like I should visit your estate, Lady Sumner.’
‘You could sir, but I could send for the horses and you could view them in town, should you wish it.’
‘Perhaps I should just buy them. You never lie about horses, as you say. And Langford bought that chestnut from you, did he not?’
‘Yes. I bought that one from an idiot who was about to ruin his mouth. I watched Lord Langford ride before I let him have it.’
Durant laughed. ‘He didn’t tell me that detail.’
‘Well, would you sell a horse to any dullard that wished to buy?’
‘I would not. But then it is not my business. Horse-trader is a pseudonym for criminal in some instances.’ This was an improper exchange, but it was allowing Felicity to relax and stopping him from any further compliments. These fell easily from his lips, but normally he was careful with debutantes who might be too quick to attach importance to them. But Felicity’s blue taffeta pelisse and the round bonnet that framed her curls so well and made a picture of her enchanting face, seemed to require complimenting. ‘Lady Sumner, I see that your bonnet too is from Madame Celeste. There is a je ne sais quoi about her designs.’ Indeed, Genevieve’s bonnet was simpler than Felicity’s, being of a dark colour to match her pelisse, but with a white striped ribbon, broad and eye-catching beneath her strong chin. It matched some white frogging on her pelisse and suited her plain, serious face very well.
‘Yes, I must admit I am much improved now that Lady Aurora has charge of my wardrobe. I declare that woman is a genius of taste. She has even made this sow’s ear into a silk purse.’ She held up her hand. ‘Do not refute me, your lordship. I know very well what I am.’
Durant wondered if she did. There was an intelligence and humour in Lady Sumner’s eyes, and an eccentricity in her speech (comprising of the honesty that was sadly lacking in fashionable circles) that made her a companion he would wish to seek out. And when she was talking to Felicity, or to Benedict Fenton whom she’d known since childhood, the warmth in her character, normally concealed behind her no-nonsense demeanour, shone through. Her smarter clothes, with none of the flounces or trim that young women adorned themselves with, were now perfectly suited to her — but gave her a dash of sophistication she had not had when he remembered her in town as an awkward debutante or an even more awkward wife. The bad taste of her mother and her husband had insisted that Genevieve adorn herself with flowers and furbelows which had only thrown her plain face into high relief. And her unhappiness had shown itself as coldness. The change Lady Aurora had wrought on Genevieve Sumner was really quite remarkable.
‘Stylish, I heard Mrs Preston say of you last night,’ said Lord Durant with a smile.
Lady Sumner looked surprised but said nothing.
‘Miss Oldfield, what has been the best part of your season, do you think?’
‘Meeting all my dear friends, sir. Mr and Mrs Fenton and Lady Sumner and Miss Carter-Phipps and Miss Althorpe. Miss Fleet, and my aunt, of course,’ she added guiltily. ‘She has paid for all my finery, you know, and been so very generous.’
Durant exchanged yet another look with Lady Sumner. ‘Of course. But who is Miss Fleet? I do not think I know—?’
‘Oh, she is my Aunt Ellingham’s companion.’
‘Ah—’ Durant said, regarding her anew. Her eyes were shining and she looked absurdly young and enthusiastic.
‘We meet in the circulating library each week,’ she confided, ‘We share a love of novels. She introduced me to Miss Radcliffe’s work.’
‘Yes?’ he said, he had vaguely heard of them as improbable melodramas, his own taste being for Homer or other classical tales.
‘Quite terrifying, I assure you.’
‘And you like to be terrified, Miss Oldfield?’
‘Oh, yes, sir.’ She shuddered. ‘Wonderful! My Mama had a taste for novels too. I never knew her, but through reading the books she owned, I feel that I understood her a little.’
‘What is your favourite novel?’
‘Well, I was enjoying a story called Clarissa, or the History of a Young Lady, when my papa removed it as being unsuitable.’
Durant gave a crack of laughter, ‘Very unsuitable
!’
‘Really? Oh well, then. I suppose my favourite must be Mr Marshall’s The Castle of Otranto.’
‘Ah, Mr Walpole’s famous castle,’ said Durant with a smile.
‘No, I assure you, it was translated by a Mr William Marshall.’
‘Yes, but later editions admitted that Mr Walpole had adopted that pseudonym.’
‘Truly? I must ask the circulating library for more of Mr Walpole’s novels.’
‘I do not think that there is much more of interest for a young lady in Mr Walpole’s works.’
‘It was wonderful, I do assure you.’ She looked at him. ‘You are teasing me sir, you do not like novels, do you?’
‘Not usually. There is so much else to read of, I suppose.’ Durant admitted.
‘Not for young ladies. We are frequently told that this or that is forbidden to us or “not of interest”,’ she added naughtily. ‘How are we to know if it is of interest or not if we are not permitted to read it?’
‘Well—’
Lady Sumner smiled at him. ‘Hah! She leaves you standing, sir. Gentlemen do not give the intelligence of women any credence at all.’
‘And shall you limit your wife’s choice of books from your library, sir?’ asked Felicity with a little naughtiness in her voice.
Durant thought with a dart of shock about his “wife” to be. Then he considered sensible Anne, free to make use of her own father’s library for many a year and concluded that if he wished to do so it would be a vain exercise. ‘No. My affianced wife is a sensible woman.’
‘And I am not. Yes, you have ample evidence of that, I know.’ She said it sadly and Durant kicked himself.
‘No, it is I who lack all sense. You are simply young. You must forgive your father and others for seeking to preserve that innocence.’
Felicity’s bosom heaved. ‘The world seeks to preserve it, and the world judges us anyway.’ She looked at him guiltily ‘I am so sorry—’
‘Don’t be. You are right.’ He was moved and leaned forward, possibly to take her hand.
‘Durant!’ Genevieve Sumner’s voice halted him. ‘Is that not your friend Mr Carter approaching?’
It was. Durant recollected himself, indicated a halt and Mr Carter made his bow to the ladies and chatted horses with his lordship.
Felicity whispered to Genevieve, ‘Why are you frowning?’
And Genevieve whispered back, ‘Mr Carter talks nonsense — he knows nothing of horseflesh at all.’
This was true as far as it went, but returning to the house after the drive, Genevieve found Lady Aurora and Mr Wilbert Fenton in the green salon and began in her blunt fashion. ‘It is imperative that Durant is not alone with Felicity!’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘He is well on the way to being charmed by her. He does not mean it, I know, but the warmth in his manner would only serve to give fuel to these damnable rumours!’ She saw Lady Aurora raise an eyebrow, and apologised. ‘Excuse my language, I spend too much time in the stables. But Durant almost touched her in the carriage today — this is not the action of the family friend we seek to portray him as.’
‘What was he about?’ said Mr Fenton, putting down his journal in an annoyed manner.
‘He was acting, I believe, outside of his own volition.’
‘You don’t mean he has fallen for her?’ said Lady Aurora. ‘Oh, doesn’t he see how dangerous—?’
I assure you, he looked his apologies at me. He was mortified. But as I say, he cannot help himself.’
‘This would be good news, if only he were not an engaged man. Oh, what a ridiculous fix.’
‘And she?’
‘I have no idea. She likes him, I’m sure. But she is obviously more aware of the situation than he. Whenever she remembers, she is terrified of giving the world more reason to talk—’
‘We need Durant to help solve our problem, and now he has made himself useless.’ Mr Wilbert Fenton said, disgusted.
‘And there has been talk, too, of Felicity and Benedict. Such is the dangerous reputation she has attained, that her friendly nature is now mistaken for flirtation. I suppose we must warn her to be more subdued.’
Lady Aurora whirled around, having reached a wall with her pacing. ‘On no account must we do so. Her own nature will ultimately be her saviour, I am sure. And we shall drive her into a decline. She is very brave, our little girl, but she is only just managing not to run from any and all social situations.’
Lady Sumner sat down, finally free of her pelisse and bonnet. ‘Perhaps we ask too much of the girl. I would be happy to retire with her to the country.’
‘No,’ said Wilbert Fenton with decision, ‘That will not do. Felicity was enjoying her first visit to town immensely. To go home with you would be to acquiesce to the rumours. She could never show her face in town again. We must prevail, and Durant is a large part of our plan. I shall speak with him.’
‘Yes, dear,’ said Lady Aurora sarcastically. ‘You must order him not to fall for Felicity.’
Wilbert groaned. ‘If only my nieces were in town. I’m beginning to think that Benedict’s line of military dance partners might have done damage, too.’
‘My friend Mrs Rush heard Viscountess Swanson say that Miss Oldfield would dance with any scarlet coat in the land.’
Mr Fenton took a breath and displayed his temper a little. ‘A little poison is all that would be required—’
‘It is not only she. Her Grace of Telford has been busy wondering how Lady Ellingham can bear the disgrace Felicity has brought upon her.’
‘A woman scorned is a dangerous thing.’
‘Oh, yes, Durant made one of the Duchess’s court ‘til lately, did he not?’
‘Well, it may have been rather more than that, I think,’ said her shrewd husband. ‘While the Duke may share his toys, I believe Durant does not. If the Duchess was mistress of Durant, then be assured he was her only lover, excepting only her husband, one supposes. Whatever the court of young bucks around her desired.’
‘I see. And perhaps Durant finished with her on the occasion of his engagement. The duchess, seeing what transpired that night blames Felicity… Oh, my darling, perhaps we cannot save her!’
Mr Fenton, with an armful of sobbing wife to comfort, thought he heard the soft closure of a door. But perhaps he was mistaken.
Anne Clarence received her letter in Lady Jersey’s elegant hand at the breakfast table. She received it with delight, but before she had finished it, her brows drew down a little. Her ladyship was so pleased at the engagement, which Bastian had told her of under strange circumstances. Then she related the results of Lady Letitia’s bad humour and Durant’s impulsive act on a debutante called Felicity Oldfield. Anne put the letter down for a second and thought. No, she did not recall an Oldfield family, but they came from another county and were little in town, said Sally, so she supposed that was not surprising. She read on. Mrs Clarence’s illness had caused the delay in making her announcement, Sally understood. But Anne could surely see that the ton could only reach one conclusion when Durant, who was affecting to be on friendly terms with the family, appeared free of attachment and yet did not offer the protection of his name: that the girl was not fit to be offered for. If the engagement between Anne and Durant could be suggested by Sally — not announced, of course — it would not solve the problem, but it might make one thing clear.
Really, Anne, I would not disturb you with this, but it is only that the girl is so very innocent. I saw her commiserate with her mortal enemy, the young lady who helped spread Tish’s words. She was genuinely concerned only because the members of the Beau Monde who believe in Miss Oldfield’s innocence (and there a number) naturally now believe that Miss Friel is of a dubious character herself. That young lady herself has suffered some consequence, not nearly so drastically as Miss Oldfield, but still significant. However, to witness Miss Oldfield have sympathy for Miss Friel showed good nature of an uncommon order. That is why I have written to you,
Anne, as I know Durant will not. He would not bring his own folly to your door, but I trust that you are too practical and compassionate to mind my interference. If you give me leave to suggest Durant’s engagement, it would stifle some tongues at least.
Well, my dear, you must answer as you wish, and I shall await your response. I do not apologise for my vulgar interference, you have known me too long not to know how I seek to rule the world.
Kiss your mama for me,
Sally.
This last brought a tear to Anne’s eye. Her sister, Susan, had agreed to delay the announcement of death to spare Anne too many commiserations just yet. It was unusual of course, to delay. But Susan, dreadfully aware of how little help she had been to her Mama and sister these last years was happy to agree to anything that furthered Anne’s peace. Anne must, however, allow Susan to make the death announcement now. Her sister had not been about in town, so had not yet had to explain her black gloves and ribbons, but it was not conceivable that that could continue.
Anne jumped up and paced, wondering what best to do. She was wearing her new riding habit, in dark green velvet that set off the gold frogging admirably. For many reasons, not least that Mr Joyce was due, her brain was in a turmoil. She must act now, but she knew that the cocoon of peace that she had inhabited lately would now be exploded. Mr Joyce was announced. Anne looked up at his lazy smile. ‘I must go to town!’
Mr Joyce stopped smiling. ‘Indeed, Miss Clarence? When do you leave?’
‘Now!’
‘I do not wish to intrude, but may I ask what has occurred?’
‘It is to do with my engagement—’
‘Your— you have some engagement in town that you did not mention. Had you forgotten?’
‘No. Not a social engagement. My alliance with the Viscount of Durant. You remember I said Bastion visited? Well, he asked me to be his wife.’
‘Oh—’ said Mr Joyce, striving for a more formal tone. ‘My compliments. I hope you will be very—’
She rushed forward and impetuously took one of his hands which he looked at, dully. ‘Don’t! I need to go now. Please do not refine too much upon it. I will explain when I return. Could you ask Bowman to bring round the landau? I must leave within the half-hour if we are to reach town before dark.’ With that she left him, some pleading look in her eyes, and he stood, stiff and still. She turned at the door. ‘Really!’ she said, pleading again. What on earth he was to take from all of that, Anne did not know. Which was just as well, for what she meant by any of it she could not, if asked, explain.
Felicity and the Damaged Reputation: A witty, sweet Regency Romance Page 15
