“Dearest Fan, wake up, darling. I cannot have you going into a decline. You must eat some dinner. I have brought it myself and will sit with you while you eat.”
She groaned. “Elise, you are so good to me. I am a wretch. I nearly ruined all of us.”
“I told you, I think it far more the fault of the Marquis. Thinking it over has put me off him altogether, though he be a friend of Peter’s.”
Fanny said, “We are rather a naughty combination, I am afraid.” She struggled into a sitting position, putting her pillows behind her. She was surprisingly hungry and addressed herself to the dinner of roast partridge.
“I will not allow you to lie here at home while we go out for the evening,” Elise said. “Becky is preparing a bath, and you are going to get up and put on your nicest gown. Then we will go to Lady Constance’s musicale. Have you forgotten Aunt Clarice is to perform an aria from her opera?”
“Elise, much as I love Aunt Clarice, that opera is dreadful. It’s about yowling cats!”
“I know, dear, but it means the world to her. She has been working on it for years. When I lived with her during my come-out, I used to play accompaniment for her.”
“You’re such a saint, Elise. And I am such a disappointment to you.”
“Come, Fan, this is not like you! You are alarming me dreadfully! Can it be that you are missing Deal?”
“Do you suppose he will ever come back to London?”
“I cannot tell you that, my dear. And Peter has warned him to stay away from you. Now, come! Finish up your dinner. Here is Becky. Your bath is ready.”
{ 11 }
BUCK HAD BEEN UNABLE TO CONVINCE WESTRINGHAM to accompany him into Kent. However, he had hired three of his former seamen, who were following him in his carriage with his luggage. As he rode ahead, his thoughts were on Rosalind.
He was confoundedly blue-deviled, feeling remorse for his part in her near disgrace. Buck hoped devoutly that she would not put forward her scheme for playacting. As he reflected again that it must be dashed difficult to be a young woman living within the confines of the ton, Rosalind had his deepest sympathies.
Recalling his second conversation with Westringham the day before, he grew uncomfortable.
“How could you be so careless of her reputation as to let me believe she was your mistress?” his former lieutenant had demanded.
He had been at a loss. Why had he allowed it?
“She’s a lovely woman. Even you must have noticed. How could you jeopardize her future in such a way?” Westringham had continued.
Had his opinion of Rosalind mended enough that his friend declined to accompany him because he wished to make things up with her? Was he going to resume his courtship of her?
Much as Buck cared for his friend, the idea made him uneasy. Why should it? I am not looking for a wife, but he is.
His next thought surprised him. He was a good lieutenant. Not brilliant, but adequate. But he has no imagination. He is too conventional for Rosalind. She would be bored beyond belief married to him.
A desire seized him to return to London before such a mistake could transpire. He must be very quick about his business at his estate. And somehow, he must convince Ruisdell that he would not lead Rosalind into further transgression if he wished to see her again.
During the following days, as he strode his grounds bellowing orders, Rosalind’s face was frequently before him, wearing one of her naughtiest looks. He was forced to admit that he missed her. In fact, her absence from his life was becoming an aching hollow. What would he do when she married another?
Tossing in his lumpy bed one night, Buck finally confessed to himself that he wanted to hold that slender form in his arms, kiss that lovely, long throat, unpin that glorious hair. In fact, his craving for her charms had become that of a sailor’s for fresh water in a drought. Thoughts of further intimacies tormented him as he imagined her turquoise eyes over her fan, teasing him. Had he been pursuing her without realizing it? He had never let a virtuous woman into his life before. Once again, he reminded himself that the true possession of Rosalind that he desired could only be enjoyed within the bonds of marriage.
Throwing his blankets off, Buck strode to the window and looked out over his view of the sea as it was illuminated by the full moon. This house, this estate: it was for a family man. The sea was for him.
The institution of marriage had never seemed to be for the likes of him. He was too much of a law unto himself. He could not see settling in one place, not even here. The world called to him—China, Japan, the South Pacific. There were many places he had never seen. After the scars inflicted by his own family life had healed, he had taken well to life as a wanderer. More than anything, he did not want to risk further wounds. Those closest to one had the power to hurt one the most.
Then, unbidden, the thought came again that Rosalind would not be a typical wife. She was game for anything. That was her trouble. She would most probably welcome the kind of life he had in mind. Would she marry Westringham?
Buck recommitted himself to winding up his business at his new home as quickly as possible.
{ 12 }
FANNY WAS VERY SURPRISED when Viscount Westringham paid her a call the day after the Marquis’s departure.
“I thought it necessary that I come in person to offer my apologies for that misbegotten note I sent you. I am filled with dread every time I remember what I said.”
Fanny mustered a smile. “Do not refine upon it overmuch. I am only glad you kept your suspicions to yourself. It was not well done of me to tease you so.”
“You are very high-spirited. After the life I have led, I appreciate that. The amusements of the Season are far too tame, I find.”
“Do you really? I am convinced that I have acted outrageously and deserve to be ruined.”
“Put those thoughts from your mind. Though I should not say it, I am convinced that my former captain was the more at fault. As a matter of fact, I should be honored if you would accompany me to the theater this evening. Perhaps your sister and brother-in-law would join us.”
Fanny did not want to encourage the viscount, for she could not return his feelings, but neither could she afford to alienate him. It was good of him to forgive her. “I am sorry, my lord, but I have already agreed to accompany my sister and her party to the theater. Perhaps we will see one another there in the interval.”
“I own I am disappointed. My mama has come up to town to join me. I would like for her to meet you. We will look for you.”
“And I will be happy to meet your mother. Now, I must bid you good day, I am afraid. I am needed in the nursery.”
The viscount took the hand she offered and bowed over it. “Good day, Miss Edwards. Again, please forgive my mistaken assumptions and any pain they might have caused.”
She noted no frisson of awareness when he took her hand. Nothing like she felt when her captain performed the same gallantry. Fanny almost loosed her disappointment in a sigh, but managed to contain it.
* * *
Because she had nothing of any interest going forward, Fanny chose to put an effort into her appearance that evening. Wearing a turquoise gown of silk shot with silver that bared her shoulders, she had a black velvet ribbon around her neck on which she wore the cameo that Elise had given her for her twentieth birthday. Becky piled her hair upon her head in a new style she had learned from Elise’s dresser, Parker.
When her party arrived at the theater, she noted that she turned some heads in admiration. Before her almost-ruin, she would never have cared what anyone thought. But now she was grateful she could appear in public without turning heads for the wrong reasons.
The play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, was delightful, and before long, Fanny was lost in its magic. Soon, however, yearnings to be part of the cast swept her away despite all her good resolutions. She would have made a devilishly excellent Puck.
The yearnings turned to avid longing. What would it be like to tread those boards? To
have this audience? The distance from the boxes held by the ton was far enough that she doubted even her own sister would recognize her in her planned disguise. She longed for the camaraderie of a cast—an ensemble of people dedicated to drama, as she was. Fanny found it hard to hold on to her repentance. She swallowed hard and raised her chin. She would not do anything to endanger her reputation again.
At the interval, Viscount Westringham found the Ruisdell party and introduced the dowager viscountess to the duke and duchess, their guests, and finally to Fanny. Westringham’s mother was tall and sober looking. From her lack of conversation, Fanny received a first impression that she was haughty and proud. Soon, however, she noticed that the woman was fidgeting with her gloves and making little stabbing motions at her coiffure. Fanny revised her opinion. The woman was socially awkward, most likely feeling overawed by the presence of the duke and duchess.
The viscount filled the silence with amusing anecdotes about his faux pas among the ton, as he, like the captain, tried to fit in to this new life. He added, “You know there never was a finer captain, but Deal does not shine in society. I am afraid he misses the action of being at sea. He is what you call a man’s man. There was not one of us who would not have followed him anywhere in the world.”
“That is saying a quite a lot,” Fanny said. “I’m afraid he finds all our occupations quite dull and uneventful. I do not blame him. It would be very hard to go from commanding a ship in wartime to playing cards at White’s. However, I have bested him at piquet, and I think he relished the challenge.”
“I do not approve of cards,” the dowager duchess said.
Undaunted, her son said, “You must be very skilled. I have lost to him at piquet every time we have played.”
“Do you miss your ship?” Fanny asked. “Do you miss the adventure of the war?”
He considered for a moment. “I fought because it was my profession. But, I, for one, am glad for the peace.”
At that moment, the Earl of Warmsby entered the Ruisdell box, greeted the Ruisdells, and turned to Fanny, standing with the Westringhams.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he said with a slight bow in the viscount’s direction. “I am Warmsby. I came to pay my respects to Miss Edwards.”
Reluctantly, Fanny introduced the earl to the viscount and dowager viscountess. After shaking Westringham’s hand and bowing over his mother’s, he took Fanny’s and brushed a kiss across her gloved knuckles.
“I have missed you,” he said in a low voice as he continued to hold her hand.
His ardor annoyed her. She attempted to pull her hand free, but he held it in a firm grip. “Are you enjoying the play?”she asked, trying to keep her voice level.
“I have spent my time gazing across at you. My box is just opposite.”
“Well, you have missed a jolly good performance, your lordship.”
“How I wish you would call me Henry.”
Fanny noticed Westringham carefully watching the exchange, a rueful expression on his face. More determined to free her hand, she positively yanked it from his grasp.
“Why do you suppose I would do anything so improper?”
His grin was almost a leer. “You liked me well enough at one time. Before you took up with the Royal Navy.”
“You are being impertinent, your lordship.” She turned away from him, taking her seat and focusing on the stage.
Fortunately, the curtain went up, and her tormentor left the box.
“You know the earl better than I realized.”Westringham had seated himself next to her.
“Not as well as he would like, fortunately. I am sorry for the interruption in our conversation.” As the play had resumed, she did not turn her head toward the viscount as she spoke, and finally he, too, made an exit after a murmured, “I will take my leave. Good evening.”
* * *
As she lay in bed that night, Fanny’s thoughts would not still. They galloped in the direction of the forbidden, despite her efforts to rein them in. Would it be possible for her to carry out her plan to audition for the part of Rosalind without Deal’s complicity? She guessed that his removal to his estate was meant to nip their plan in the bud. She rued his absence once more. In fact, his absence was making her dashed miserable. Dwelling on this realization, she arrived at the understanding that London was just plain unbearable without him.
The opportunity to perform the part of Rosalind might never come again. But she had felt the whisper of ruin on the back of her neck. She had shut herself in the house for a day. How could she tolerate doing so for the rest of her life?
Fanny passed the next few days in profound boredom. Westringham took her for rides in the park; Warmsby called and was denied by Elise’s butler, as usual. She wrote Sophie each day, wishing her sister were with her so that she could have the benefit of her thoughts and company. Though her sister wrote regularly, letters were not enough. The evening entertainments were unusually dull. Did her captain plan to stay in Kent for the rest of the season? She remembered Elise’s words. The duke had advised him to stay away from her.
One morning, she woke with the desire to visit her aunt. Aunt Clarice and her companion were the most unconventional people Fanny knew, and she longed for a respite from all the shoulds and oughts of her social life.
At breakfast, much to her surprise, she received a letter from the captain. As she opened it, she felt gratified. She had not thought he would actually keep his promise to write. Was the vacuum he had left the source of her boredom?
My dear Rosalind,
I sincerely hope that you are behaving yourself. I want to apologize to you for my role in the infamous incident at Richmond. I never expected to see Westringham socially. He did not tell me of his elevation to the peerage until I saw him at the Somersets' ball.
I must warn you that he is looking for a wife. Although he is a very fine man, and would, I expect, make a faithful husband, if he begins courting you I would advise you to consider the matter carefully. You will need to decide if marrying him might not confine you to that life you are now straining against. For instance, I have never known Westringham to have much imagination. And, of course, he is the soul of propriety.
On another note, it is interesting to watch how my sailors are adapting to the countryside. The work here proceeds apace. I do not suppose I will remain here long.
With kindest regards,
Deal
So, the viscount was looking for a wife. That was not surprising, she supposed. But Deal’s avuncular tone annoyed her. He wrote as though she were a child! Who was he to advise her whom she should marry? Did he think he was her parent? Well, she could disabuse him of that idea.
After breakfast, she adjourned to her sitting room to answer her letter.
My lord,
How delightful to receive your note. However I should like to know in what office you think to stand to advise me concerning whom I should marry.
No doubt your impulse was kindly meant, but I shall marry where it suits me, if I ever marry at all.
Yours sincerely,
Miss Fanny Edwards
It was not like Fanny to take offense. However, in this case, having vented her spleen, she felt empowered. How had it come about that she was such a spiteful creature?
* * *
Fanny was greeted with a smothering hug from her plump aunt, who carried her Siamese cat, Queen Elizabeth, under one arm. They were enthroned in the Chinese Saloon with its red silk hung walls decorated with ancient Chinese scrolls. Aunt Clarice was the widow of an extremely wealthy man.
“My dear! How kind of you to call! I don’t see you nearly enough.”
Queen Elizabeth yowled a greeting and Aunt Clarice placed her cat in Fanny’s eager arms. She scratched the cat’s belly with affection.
“It is wonderful to see you, Aunt Clarice. What exciting things have you been doing?”
“Nothing of note. The Season, you know. I look forward to the summer, when I can count on people actually comin
g to committee meetings. Now, tell me what has been happening in your young life!”
“Oh, Aunt, I have just escaped ruin!”
Aunt Clarice’s pansy brown eyes grew round. “My dear child! Can you bear to tell me what has happened?”
Fanny narrated the tale of the lark to Richmond and its consequences, this time much more calmly.
“I remember meeting Westringham in the park. Are you certain you can rely on his discretion?”
“He is a former lieutenant under Lord Deal. He would never say or do anything to involve his commanding officer in an embarrassing situation. And, now that he knows the truth, Westringham seems to have some regard for me as well. It is an extremely ticklish situation, however, as he seems to be courting me.”
“I can see that. I take it that your interest is fixed upon Deal.”
“Oh, Aunt, I don’t know. He thinks me a troublesome nitwit. And, as of now, I do not even know that he will return to London.”
“Well, then you must show him that you have some sense.”
“I do not know that I have. I spend my days longing to escape the prison of the ton.” With wide-eyed eagerness, she asked, “How did you ever bear it, Aunt?”
“By thinking of those less fortunate, my dear. You may find the ton a prison, but there are thousands, in this city alone, who do not enjoy even one set of warm clothing, even one meal in all their life such as you sit down to every night. They cannot raise themselves from their penury because they do not have the skills. They cannot read or write.”
Fanny felt reduced to the size of a flea. All at once, she saw, truly saw. herself as an overindulged, ungrateful brat. No wonder Deal had left for the country.
“I am longing for diversion,” Fanny said. “Of the useful kind. Surely, there is something I can do.”
“There is little a young, unmarried woman can do, my dear. But surely you know of your sister’s soup kitchen for the families of wounded soldiers?”
Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen) Page 7
