Miss Dower's Paragon

by Gayle Buck

  “Perhaps you might then return with Evelyn and take luncheon with us?” Mrs. Dower suggested. “I should like someone’s opinion on the new mutton that Cook is experimenting with today. One should never serve an entree at a dinner party until it has been previously approved by several personages, you know.”

  “I am sorry, but I cannot. Mama would wonder if I stayed away,” said Miss Sparrow. “After luncheon, we are to visit with some of the sick and Mr. Applegate comes to supper this evening, besides, so you see that I must return as quickly as possible if we are to accomplish everything.”

  “We shall not urge you, then. I am certain you have any number of things you wish to see to after your visits are made this afternoon,” said Mrs. Dower. She had instantly understood the most important point. “How well I recall that time flies swiftly when one is anticipating one’s betrothed to come to call!”

  Miss Sparrow blushed and smiled shy agreement. “Oh, indeed.”

  “If you will wait but a moment for me to put on a pelisse, Abigail, I will walk with you,” said Evelyn. Miss Sparrow agreed to this and Evelyn turned to her mother. “Have you any commissions for me, Mama?”

  Mrs. Dower considered for a moment and finally shook her head. “I cannot think of a thing, though I am certain as soon as you walk out the door I shall recall any number of items. My mind is all taken up with the dinner party, you see, for despite Abigail’s kind words I cannot escape the lowering feeling that I have forgotten something. No doubt it will prove to be a paltry affair in the eyes of the London gentlemen.”

  “Nonsense, Mama. It will go off in splendid style just like all of your entertainments. Lady Pomerancy herself will not be able to find a single item to fault,” said Evelyn.

  “Lady Pomerancy!” Mrs. Dower’s eyes widened. “Good gracious, that is something else to plague me. I have forgotten that great chair of hers. Evelyn, I cannot possibly serve dinner in the upper room! We shall never get her ladyship abovestairs.”

  Evelyn recognized a valid point, but the solution seemed readily apparent. “We shall simply have her ladyship carried up the stairs.”

  Miss Sparrow shook her head with the slightest of frowns marring her smooth brow. “Oh, I don’t know that that will do at all, Ev—”

  “Carried! I wish I might see it. One shudders to think of the look in her ladyship’s eyes that such a suggestion must conjure up,” said Mrs. Dower, giving a realistic shudder.

  “Mama, do not fret so, I pray you. I am certain that everything must turn out for the best,” soothed Evelyn.

  “Indeed, ma’am. Everything does work out to its best advantage,” said Miss Sparrow.

  “Well, there you are quite wrong, my dears. One can never leave such a thing to chance,” said Mrs. Dower, unexpectedly firm. “Your dear father never understood it, Evelyn, and many times I was put to positive extremes of ingenuity to snatch an affair from complete disaster.” Mrs. Dower gave way to her anxiety and wrung her hands. “Whatever shall I do about Lady Pomerancy’s chair?”

  Evelyn saw that it was useless to remonstrate with her mother. Therefore she merely repeated her intention to go purchase some ribbons and kissed her inattentive mother on the cheek.

  Miss Sparrow trailed Evelyn out of the sitting room, glancing back in concern at Mrs. Dower, who had accepted her leave-taking in an abstracted manner. “Evelyn, perhaps you should stay with your mother for a little while. I will soon be headed home, in any event, and—”

  “It wouldn’t be the least use if I did so, Abigail. You know that it wouldn’t. Mama will not hear a word that I say while she worries at the puzzle she has set for herself.”

  “Yes, of course you are right. And I am certain that the dear lady will manage to work it out to her satisfaction,” said Miss Sparrow, her natural optimism rising.

  “Of course she shall,” Evelyn agreed. “I shall look for something in the shops to divert Mama’s thoughts, besides.”

  Miss Sparrow applauded this laudable intention. “Oh, that will be just the thing, I am sure of it.”

  Accompanied by her friend, Evelyn went upstairs to change into an outfit more befitting a shopping excursion.

  Chapter Eight

  Evelyn and Miss Sparrow left the town house in Queen Square and set out on foot. Evelyn’s maid followed the young ladies so that after they had parted ways Evelyn would not be unaccompanied upon her return home.

  Miss Sparrow’s first stop was to an apothecary’s shop to purchase several items that would be required during the visits to the sick that she and her mother would make later in the day. She also had on her list sundry other items to purchase, as well as commissions for the chandler and the butcher.

  When the young ladies emerged from the butcher shop, where Miss Sparrow had left her order and had elicited the promise that it would be delivered for her, her basket had obviously become weighty on her arm. Evelyn’s maid offered to carry the basket, but Miss Sparrow smilingly refused. “You would spoil me, Milly, for you must know that I am quite used to carrying my own basket.”

  The ladies proceeded to the milliner’s establishment, where Evelyn chose and made her purchase in such short time that it was still early. Miss Sparrow suggested that they might browse for a while. “For you must know that I rarely peek into any shops with which I do not have business,” she said, almost wistfully.

  “Oh, yes, let’s. It is so much more amusing when one is with a friend,” said Evelyn, handing over the carefully wrapped lengths of ribbon to her maid.

  It was a lovely spring day and Evelyn and Miss Sparrow enjoyed walking slowly past the various shop windows while exchanging comments on the displayed wares. Twice they could not resist a closer look at the tempting offerings and they slipped into the establishments, though never to actually make a purchase. Evelyn, and Miss Sparrow in particular, understood the limits of their funds.

  At length, Evelyn noticed a clock in one shop window. She pointed out the advancing hour. “Perhaps we should turn back at once, so that you will have ample time to reach home before luncheon.”

  Miss Sparrow was unwilling to call an end to the leisurely promenade so soon, for it was a rare treat to be able to enjoy herself without also having to discharge some responsibility or other. “I do not think Mama will be very anxious if I am a very little later than I anticipated. Let us continue to the end of the street before we return.”

  Evelyn agreed to it and they walked on. However, when they came opposite the lending library, Evelyn’s eyes lit up. “Oh, do let us go in!”

  Miss Sparrow was reluctant. She knew that her friend was an avid reader and that it would be difficult to tear Evelyn away once she began browsing. “I shall certainly be late for luncheon if I allow you to persuade me.”

  “I promise you that I shall not spend one moment longer than I must. But I should like to find something for Mama. She does so enjoy for me to read to her in the evenings,” said Evelyn.

  Miss Sparrow hesitated, then sighed. “Oh, very well. Just this once, and for Mrs. Dower’s sake. But I warn you that if you take root I shall be forced to leave you for pruning!”

  Evelyn laughed and reiterated her promise. However, once inside among the books on the shelves, the familiar spell quickly came upon her and if it had not been for reminders from both Miss Sparrow and her maid of the waning hour, she might have remained an indefinite time.

  “Oh, very well. I see that you have even Milly conspiring against me, Abigail, so I must surrender,” said Evelyn.

  “At last, and with such a gracious manner,” said Miss Sparrow with gentle sarcasm.

  Evelyn laughed and carried her choice of four volumes to the front.

  Miss Sparrow picked up one of the books and read the title on the spine. She made the slightest grimace. “A romance, I see. Really, Evelyn, how can you choose to fill your clever mind with such unsavory tales?”

  “Mama particularly likes them,” said Evelyn, with a flash of mischief in her eyes. She knew that her friend was well aware
that she was a passionate aficionado of romances on her own account.

  Miss Sparrow threw her a disbelieving glance. “Oh indeed, and you naturally suffer through them the best you can.”

  Evelyn laughed. She tapped the last slim volume. “A treatise on ancient Greek civilization. Surely that is learned enough for your taste, Abigail?”

  “Barbarians, but admittedly the Greeks contributed to certain philosophies and art forms,” said Miss Sparrow with a sniff.

  A particularly wicked gleam entered Evelyn’s tawny eyes. “Yes, indeed. There is the stoic, for instance, and we must not forget the influence of Hippocrates upon our men of medicine. Why, we have but to look about us to see their strong influence on our own architecture. Where would we be without Doric and Ionic columns, and of course the Corinthian. I wonder, can our so-called Corinthian gentlemen be deemed to be aping the Greeks?”

  Evelyn continued to deliver herself of a discourse in pompous fashion until they had emerged from the lending library and she had successfully reduced her friend to laughter.

  Miss Sparrow threw up a pleading hand. “Very well, very well! Your arguments have left me all but reeling. Pray do not trot out more examples, for I assure you that I am wholly convinced.”

  “You are not convinced so much of the Greek contribution to the world as you are that you cannot abide further lecture from myself,” said Evelyn.

  Miss Sparrow agreed to it, saying, “I shall inform Papa that I have already had my dose of philosophy for the week, and a vile one it was, too!”

  “It was not as bad as all that, surely!” Evelyn protested.

  Miss Sparrow assured her that it was, even as a martial light leaped into her eyes. “And I am quite convinced that much of what you claimed as originating with Greek literature is surely erroneous, for I recall Papa commenting once that the Greeks were still barbarians when the Hebrews were composing poetry.”

  “I had no notion that you were such a bluestocking, Abigail,” said Evelyn wickedly.

  Miss Sparrow at once denied the charge. “Surely if anyone may be called a bluestocking, it is yourself, Evelyn! You are forever toting about some book or other.”

  “But I read romances, which you have assured me are not at all proper fare for a quick mind,” said Evelyn.

  Miss Sparrow was momentarily taken off guard, but she rallied quickly and retorted with gentle insult. Evelyn answered, equally good-natured. As the young ladies slowly walked back up the street, the maid trailed behind, chuckling over their amicable wrangling.

  The young ladies formed a pretty contrast, one a diminutive blonde and the other a striking redhead, and more than one head turned to follow their progress. Two gentlemen in particular took note of them.

  “Miss Dower, this is fortuitous, indeed.”

  The young ladies paused to see who had thus addressed Evelyn.

  A fleeting frown entered Evelyn’s eyes, which was as quickly veiled. She smiled politely at the gentleman who had accosted her and offered her hand to him. “Mr. Hawkins, what a surprise. Are you doing some shopping as well?”

  Mr. Hawkins shook her hand and released it circumspectly. “No, actually. It is my cousin, Viscount Waithe, who was in need of a few items. Lord Waithe, Miss Dower. And this delightful lady is Miss Sparrow.”

  Viscount Waithe also shook Evelyn’s hand, but he did not so quickly release it.

  He nodded in Miss Sparrow’s direction, but though he smiled at both ladies the admiration in his eyes was plainly reserved for Miss Dower. “Alas, I was foolish enough to come down from town without my valet, and so I discover myself bereft of combs and brushes. It quite escaped me that I should bring such mundane items, for they always seem to be where one needs them without a thought bestowed upon them.”

  Evelyn laughed, quite taken with the viscount’s wry confidence. She was also flattered by his patent admiration and gently, so as not to give offense, she withdrew her fingers from his light clasp. “Indeed, I quite see how one could easily forget. But I thought all gentlemen allowed their valets to pack their cases for them?”

  Viscount Waithe leaned forward in a conspiratorial fashion. “It was to be a lesson, you see. I meant to be quite self-sufficient, just to show the old Turk that he was not indispensable.” He straightened, laughing at himself in a self-deprecating manner. “I am quite rolled up, however, and I fear that I shall be forced to send for the man before the day is out. It will make him quite insufferably smug, of course.”

  Evelyn laughed again, delighted with his lordship’s sense of the ridiculous and his easy manners. As the viscount turned to Miss Sparrow and addressed a pleasantry to her, she swept him an interested glance. His blond good looks and his athletic figure were set off to advantage by a flawlessly tailored coat and form-fitting pantaloons tucked into gleaming black Hessians. She thought it was easily seen that Viscount Waithe and Mr. Hawkins were related. They shared similar features and coloring. Though his lordship’s countenance did not possess the same strength of character as his cousins’s, nor was he as tall as Mr. Hawkins, Viscount Waithe was still one of the most fashionable gentleman Evelyn had ever seen and decidedly one of the most attractive.

  “If you ladies have no objection, I am certain that I speak for both my cousin and myself in requesting your permission to accompany you on the remainder of your errands,” said Mr. Hawkins, his smile one of winning charm.

  “I stand ready to carry whatever number of awkward parcels that you may acquire,” said Viscount Waithe, bowing to both ladies.

  “Thank you gentlemen. But with my errands done, I am due to return home,” said Miss Sparrow.

  “I, too, have quite completed my purchases and I am now on my way home for luncheon,” said Evelyn. Though her smile was impartial, her glance strayed shyly to the viscount. “But perhaps, if you should like it, you might call late in the week to take tea with me and my mother?”

  “Splendid notion, ma’am. I cannot think of anything I would like better,” said Viscount Waithe quietly. He took Evelyn’s hand once more and briefly brushed his lips across her gloved fingers.

  “We shall certainly come to tea. Miss Dower,” said Mr. Hawkins. “Perhaps on Thursday, if that is convenient?”

  “That will be quite nice,” said Evelyn, smiling.

  “We shall look forward to it then,” said Mr. Hawkins. “Might we escort you ladies to your respective addresses?”

  But Miss Sparrow declined this suggestion. Evelyn followed suit, sensing that her friend’s sense of propriety was already shocked that she had solicited the gentlemen for tea. The gentlemen said a few other things and then they took leave of the ladies.

  Miss Sparrow waited only until the gentlemen were out of earshot before she began to scold. “Evelyn! How could you behave with such boldness? I am persuaded that you must have given Mr. Hawkins and his lordship a most improper notion of your manners.”

  “It was really quite reprehensible of me,” Evelyn agreed readily, already realizing that she had been somewhat bold before a gentleman whom she had just met. “I should have advanced a rather vague invitation and let it rest on the hope that Mr. Hawkins would bring the viscount with him when next he decided to call. I truly did not take time to reflect, Abigail.”

  At the perturbation in her friend’s eyes, Miss Sparrow’s heart softened. “Oh, I fully realize that, Evelyn. However, you must learn to be more circumspect. It is all very well to be free and easy in your manners to those of us who have known you all of your life, but you simply cannot do the same with gentlemen such as Mr. Hawkins and Viscount Waithe. They are used to quite a different society than ours, and the singular partiality of your glances for his lordship could so easily be misinterpreted for other than naive innocence.”

  Miss Sparrow smiled gently as the color rose in Evelyn’s face. “Oh yes, it was very noticeable that the viscount made an impression upon you. As you did upon him.”

  It had not occurred to Evelyn before, but she thought it would be wonderful if Mr. Hawk
ins could see that other gentlemen admired her, and quite without the prodding of their respective grandmothers. She turned a hopeful expression on her friend. “Did I, indeed?”

  Miss Sparrow laughed, but shook her head. “I fear so. You must not let it turn your head, however. I believe gentlemen are often taken by a pretty countenance, and just as quickly they grow bored. You are just coming out so you cannot be expected to understand such things as yet, but— do you understand at all what it is I am saying, Evelyn?”

  The last was said with a quick glance of concern. Miss Sparrow had not been out so long herself that she perfectly understood all the nuances, and she felt herself to be somewhat at a loss in guiding her even less experienced friend.

  Evelyn thought about some of the things that her mother had relayed to her over the years. She rather suspected that Miss Sparrow would be shocked at how much she understood of worldly matters, and so she confined herself to expressing her appreciation for her friend’s genuine concern. “I do thank you for explaining it all to me, Abigail. I promise you that I shall do better in future.”

  Miss Sparrow smiled, relief apparent in her eyes. She had discharged her duty not too badly after all, she thought. Her mother could be proud of her daughter. “Good. Now I really must be going. I have tarried too long already. Mama must have started to wonder what is keeping me.”

  “Give my fondest regards to your parents and your sisters,” said Evelyn.

  Miss Sparrow promised to do so and hurried away, her heavy basket swinging from her arm.

  Evelyn stood a moment, to all intents absorbed in watching until Miss Sparrow had turned the corner, but her thoughts were actually far from measuring her friend’s progress. She remarked happily, “Mama will be very pleased when I show her the romances, Milly.”

  “Yes, miss,” said the maid tolerantly. She thought that she knew better than to believe it was romance between the two book covers that had brought the blush of roses into her young mistress’s cheeks. “Here, let me carry those heavy things, miss.”