Bridget concurred. "Well, that hits the nail on the head. You certainly do your best to try my patience at times, Elizabeth."
The footman appeared at the dining room door, holding a large box. "This was just delivered, madam. For Mistress Elizabeth."
Bridget took the box and he withdrew. Jack motioned for his wife to give it to Elizabeth and with reluctance she did so.
Beth read the card. "It's from Charlie! It's a birthday present." She unwrapped it slowly and lifted the lid. For a moment, she couldn't believe her eyes. It was the gold tissue ball gown she had tried on at Madame Chloe's. "Ohhh," she sighed softly, blinking back tears.
"My God, it must have cost the earth," Jack marveled.
"Money means nothing to these people! Now do you see why I am willing to dedicate my life to ensuring that you marry into wealth? No matter the sacrifice to myself?"
"I want to wear it to Almack's!" Maria could not hide her envy.
"And so you shall, but not tonight, Maria. After all, it is Elizabeth's birthday."
"Now we can all go to Almack's, and I'll win us a fortune!" Jack grinned.
"Mmm, my desire for a carriage will soon be fulfilled, I warrant," Bridget said with exquisite sarcasm.
The Gunning sisters spent the afternoon washing their hair. Bridget had soon realized that their glorious tresses gained her daughters the lion's share of attention at any gathering. She wisely refused to hide their crowning splendor beneath powdered wigs. Emma, amazingly gifted as a _coiffeuse_, fashioned Maria's silver-gilt hair in a high pompadour to show off her long, slim neck. When she was done with Elizabeth, her golden hair cascaded down her back in a hundred glossy ringlets.
It was after the hour of eleven when the Gunning family stepped down from the hired cabriolet in Pall Mall and swept into the hallowed halls of Almack's. The Gunning sisters were the _on dit_ of the moment, and their entrance brought a gasp or two from those assembled. Other _debutantes_ felt dismay; their mothers felt resentment. The men felt their bodies stir at such exquisite youth and tantalizing beauty.
Dorothy Boyle introduced Bridget to Almack's patronesses, Sarah Jersey and Emily Cowper, who were avid to meet her, then took Jack Gunning's arm. "John, the gaming room awaits you." She laughed up into his handsome face. "This is becoming a habit with us. Too bad our meetings are always public, never private."
Jack squeezed her hand. "Lead on, and I shall follow."
"Is that a promise?" she asked archly.
She was not the first titled woman who had made overtures to him, and he quite enjoyed charming the ladies. He knew that if he rebuffed the countess, he would not only make a deadly enemy but sound the death knell to his daughters' social aspirations. Jack lifted her fingers to his lips. "Perhaps it is."
When she came back downstairs, she saw William Cavendish arrive with his sisters. "Lord Hartington, it does my heart good to see such a dutiful brother."
"Please call me Will, Lady Burlington." He bowed over her hand and murmured, "My sisters gave me a perfect excuse to come and dance attendance on Lady Charlotte, but I don't see her."
"That is because Charlie and the Gunning sisters are surrounded by an adoring throng of admirers. If you don't make haste, their dance cards will be completely filled."
Will hurried off, leaving Rachel and Cat Cavendish to their own devices. "Lady Burlington, I hope this warm, sunny weather lasts through the weekend. We are so looking forward to Chiswick."
"September is always a lovely month. I invited Orford, but is there someone special you'd like me to invite, Lady Catherine?"
When Cat flushed, her sister Rachel suggested, "If you invite Harriet Ponsonby, perhaps her brother, Johnny, will accompany her?"
_So, Cat Cavendish, you are hot for John Ponsonby, who is without a title. Your mother will be livid, but here is my chance to gain your undying gratitude_! "Since the Ponsonbys are our closest Chiswick neighbors, their invitations have already been posted." _Or will be the moment I get home_.
When the Cavendish sisters arrived in the crowded ballroom, Rachel was dismayed to see the Earl of Orford worshipping at the shrine of Maria Gunning, along with many other infatuated males. "I have decided that I have pined for the attentions of John Campbell long enough," she murmured to Cat. "From now on I shall devote myself to Orford until he makes a commitment!"
Maria Gunning, deciding an Earl of the Realm wasn't quite good enough, was doing her utmost to ignore the attentions of George Norwich. Since word had spread like wildfire about her being mobbed at the theater, tonight she had attracted a throng of gentlemen, and she flirted with everyone save the Earl of Coventry. Finally, like a kicked hound, he slunk off to join her sister, Elizabeth, who stood amidst a gathering of her own, receiving birthday wishes. He greeted his friend Will and envied him the adoring looks young Charlotte Boyle was bestowing upon him.
"Hello, George. Seems everyone is here tonight."
Coventry brightened. "Everyone is right. Even Hamilton deigned to attend, though the other night he swore he'd rather be buried alive. He's up in the gaming room." George elbowed aside the young man who was talking to Elizabeth. "Would you do me the honor of the next dance, Mistress Gunning?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Coventry, the next dance is taken, but I will save you the one after that," she promised with a smile.
"I warrant m'sister Cat's dance card isn't full yet, George."
"Really, Will?" Coventry brightened still further. A Cavendish lady, though no raving beauty, was a prize indeed.
Elizabeth stayed on the ballroom floor for twelve dances in a row. The gold tissue gown made her feel beautiful, and each time she spoke to Charlie, she thanked her again for the generous gift. She was thoroughly enjoying herself; her only regret was that John Campbell was not there to see her and dance with her. Before the night was over, she suspected that she would dance with every young man present. She had no idea which men were titled and which were not and, in fact, never thought about such things, unlike most young ladies, who could quote verbatim from _Burke's Peerage_.
Elizabeth and Charlotte were accompanied to the supper room by George Coventry and Will Cavendish. The ladies were happy with the almond-flavored ratafia, while their partners settled for sherry. When the men looked askance at the dainty sandwiches and seed cake, Charlie laughed and promised more substantial fare at Chiswick.
It was around two o'clock in the morning when Jack Gunning left the gaming room in the company of the Duke of Hamilton. Jack had lost most of his money to the nobleman, who was an habitual gambler. Then, an hour ago, when the duke learned his name was Gunning, his luck turned and Jack recouped all his losses.
Maria Gunning saw the Duke of Hamilton the moment he stepped into the ballroom. She had been watching for him ever since Coventry had told her the duke was upstairs in the gaming room.
Maria glided to his side and touched his hand. "Your Grace," she whispered seductively, giving him a provocative sideways glance, "you have kept me waiting for three hours."
His hazel eyes swept her from head to toe. "Mistress Gunning, let me be blunt so that I do not waste any more of your time. I am not in the market for a duchess. A _liaison_, however, is another matter entirely, and I am at your disposal."
Maria gasped as if she'd been slapped in the face. "You must be drunk, sir!"
He bowed. "After midnight, dearest lady, I am always drunk."
She turned on her heel and walked off with disdain. She searched out Coventry and found him about to partner Elizabeth. She placed a proprietary hand on his arm. "I have neglected you shamefully tonight, Lord Coventry, but I am free for this dance."
Elizabeth saw that the earl was torn between desire for Maria and duty toward her. She said graciously, "Do partner Maria so that I may ask Father to dance."
Jack Gunning took Elizabeth's hand and led her onto the floor. "Happy birthday, Beth. You're the prettiest lady here tonight."
She laughed up at him, happily. "It's the gown, Father."
"No, it is not the gown, my beauty."
As they danced, she had the eerie feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced uneasily into the shadowed recesses that dotted the perimeter of the ballroom, but saw no one. She concentrated on the music to keep time, but the feeling became so strong that she felt the back of her neck prickle. Her glance once more searched around the room. And then she saw him, half hidden by a pillar. It was the Duke of Hamilton. His attention was riveted upon her, his unblinking stare relentlessly followed her about the ballroom. A shudder rippled down her spine.
"Surely you're not cold, my beauty? It's warm in here."
"No, just a little tired, Father."
"Let's find your mother. I think it's time we went home."
"Thanks, Father." She smiled gratefully and squeezed his hand.
*Chapter Ten*
Next day, Elizabeth and her father were in the livery stable behind Great Marlborough Street
where the residents kept their horses. It was one of the few places Jack and his favorite daughter could spend time alone, knowing Bridget and Maria had no love of stables.
"I rode in the park on Sunday with Charlie. She let me ride one of their horses. It was the first time I'd ever used a side saddle, but it wasn't difficult at all."
"How would you like to have your own mount at Chiswick?"
"Do you mean Cavalier?" Elizabeth had loved the bay gelding on sight, the day her father had brought him from Cambridgeshire. "That would be splendid, but we are going in the Burlington carriage with Charlie tomorrow at ten."
"I could ride him down there for you and come back by river. The countess told me that she was going a day early to prepare for her guests. She can show me around Chiswick House."
"It would be wonderful! But do you think Mother will approve of your visiting Chiswick without her?"
"Since the countess is our _entree_ to the _beau monde_, your mother has suggested that Dorothy Boyle and I become intimate friends." He shook his head ruefully. "Bridget is determined that we climb the social ladder along with her, whether it suits us or not."
Elizabeth stroked Cavalier's reddish-brown coat and sighed. "Maria seems far better suited to social climbing than I am." Jack set down the currycomb. "She is very like her mother."
"And I am like you ... thank heaven above!"
Bright and early Friday morning, Jack Gunning rode Cavalier along the Great West Road
to the County of Hounslow, then rode south along Burlington Lane
to Chiswick House, which sat on the bank of the River Thames. The Earl of Burlington had designed it in the simple symmetrical style of Palladio's Villa Capra, and his friend, William Kent, had done the interiors.
Dorothy Boyle lay supine in her big bed, staring up at the classical painting on her bedchamber ceiling as her partner labored above her. The act had become tiresomely routine, and she had to stifle a yawn. He had been pumping for half an hour but by the feel of things wasn't going to bring either of them satisfaction any time soon. Deciding she'd been both patient and accommodating long enough, she slid her forefinger along the cleft between his buttocks and deftly inserted it. With a gasp, he spent immediately and rolled off her, exhausted.
Feeling restless and dissatisfied, she arose from the bed and slipped on a loose morning gown. Through the long French windows she caught sight of a rider headed in the general direction of the stables. She frowned, knowing it was far too early for any of her guests to arrive. She glanced at her bed partner of many years. "No, no, don't exert yourself further--you need the rest, darling."
Her servants were well trained to be unobtrusive and to attend her only when summoned. She strolled out across the side lawns toward the stables and was pleasantly surprised to find John Gunning dismounting from a glossy bay.
He glanced at her _dishabille_. "I hope I haven't disturbed you at such an early hour. I thought I'd bring Elizabeth's mount to Chiswick for her."
She gave him a sly smile and purred, "You disturb me at any hour, John, especially in those tight riding breeches. Come, let's put him in a stall." She followed as he hitched Cavalier's bridle and slid off the saddle. She ran her hand down the animal's satiny flank. "What a pity he's gelded ... has it lessened his spirit?"
Jack grinned and reached for her, knowing it was _his_ spirit she was questioning. When his mouth came down on hers, she opened her lips, inviting him inside. She slid her arms about his neck and pressed her body into his, enjoying the feel of his erection as it grew against her. His hands came up to cup her heavy breasts, and in a heartbeat he unfastened the loose gown so that her flesh was bared to his hands and his mouth. He teased her nipple with his teeth until it became turgid and swollen to the size of a marble.
His hand moved between her thighs, and when he found her wet and ready, he slid two fingers deep inside her and at the same time thrust into her mouth with his tongue. When she moaned and opened farther for him, he pressed her up against the side of the stall and thrust in a third finger. He felt her sheath, hot and throbbing, grip his fingers as he buried them deep. He pushed her to the edge, then, with one last driving thrust, brought her to shuddering climax. He watched as she leaned back against the wooden stall, panting.
"There's something about the smell of a stable that is definitely arousing, but perhaps we should go inside, where you can show me the many chambers of the villa."
She caught her breath, wishing with every fiber of her body that they could indeed repair to a bedchamber. Then she began to laugh. It was low and sultry, and filled with irony. "Your timing is rather awkward, John."
"Good God, Dorothy. Don't tell me your husband is here?"
"Rather more complicated than that."
They heard someone enter the stable and call her name. Jack watched her face suffuse with amusement she couldn't hide.
"Here I am. John Gunning has brought his daughter's horse so she may ride this weekend. This is Charles Fitzroy, the Duke of Grafton. I believe you've met before."
The young guests who had been invited to Chiswick for the weekend began to arrive at eleven o'clock, and by the hour of noon they were all seated around the huge dining room table for lunch. The talking and laughing reached a crescendo before the first course was served, and the countess had to hold up her hands for silence. "Welcome to Chiswick, everyone. We want you to enjoy yourselves this weekend, so after I've made my little speech, I shall disappear as any _chaperon_ worth her salt should do."
A chorus of "_Hear! Hear_!" came from the young men.
With tongue in cheek she continued, "There's lots to do to keep you out of trouble. There are rowboats and punts for on the river, there's tennis and shuttlecock, as well as archery butts. Anyone who doesn't have a mount may borrow one from our stables. The woods hereabouts are alive with rabbits and game birds, and if you want to organize a shoot, there are plenty of guns in the gun room. The staff will be happy to pack you lunch baskets for picnics, and dinner won't be served until eight o'clock to give you plenty of time to wear off all that disgusting energy you young people seem to have in abundance. If you fall in the river, don't call me."
"You have the most understanding mother in the world, Lady Charlotte. If she were not married to your father, I would offer for her on the spot," William Cavendish said with a wink.
"Oh, please, let's not use silly titles this weekend. Just our first names? Everyone must call me Charlie!"
"I rather like titles," Maria Gunning whispered to the Earl of Coventry, "especially yours, George."
"I'll call you mistress if you wish, but I much prefer Maria."
"Since I'm not your _mistress_, I see no reason to call me such," she teased wickedly. "What would you like to do, George?"
Coventry, obsessed with the thought of making love to her, tried desperately to think of something more acceptable to suggest. He was not the athletic type, but he did enjoy hunting, and a walk in the woods with such a beautiful female, who was in a playful mood, seemed heaven-sent. "Would you care to w
atch me shoot, Maria?"
"I'd love to watch you! Perhaps you could give me some lessons and teach me how to handle a gun."
Her suggestion sounded somehow provocative and aroused him instantly. He swallowed hard. "It would be my pleasure, Maria."
The couples paired off quite naturally by unspoken, mutual consent, just as the countess had planned. Charlie was partnered by Will, Elizabeth by Sundridge, Maria by Coventry, Rachel Cavendish by Orford, and her sister, Cat, by Johnny Ponsonby. That left Harriet Ponsonby, and the countess knew she could count on her nephew Michael Boyle to be accommodating. The shrewd young devil knew on which side his bread was buttered, and she never forgot to reward him handsomely for his trouble.
Elizabeth sat quietly beside John Campbell, luxuriating in his commanding presence and deliriously happy to be out from under her mother's critical eye.
He smiled down at her. "I've missed you, Beth. I always forget how beautiful you are, then I see you and it takes my breath away."
She blushed at his compliment. "I celebrated my seventeenth birthday on Wednesday."
"I knew it was soon, but I didn't realize it was this week. Happy birthday, sweeting."
"Do I look any older?"
His dark eyes searched her lovely heart-shaped face. She looked beautiful, sweet, vulnerable, and impossibly young. He covered her hand with his. "You don't believe me now but there will come a day when you will want to look younger, Elizabeth."
She laughed happily at the absurdity of his words.
"I know you love the water--will you come out on the river?"
She nodded eagerly. "I should run up and get my parasol."
"I'll go and get us a boat before they're all gone. Meet me down at the river landing."
When she went upstairs to the chamber she was sharing with Charlie, her friend also was searching for her sunshade. They found them in the wardrobe where their maids had put them when they unpacked. "John is taking me on the river."
"Will wants me to go on the river too. It's the first time we will actually be alone. I think it's sooo romantic!"
Undone - Virginia Henley Page 12
