by Gayle Buck
“Evelyn, dear!”
Mrs. Dower swept about and quickly went over to take her daughter’s hand in order to draw her into the room. “It is all quite taken care of so you need no longer feel the least bit of concern.”
“What, Mama? What shouldn’t concern me?”
“Why, Lady Pomerancy’s chair, of course! Lord Hughes had confided in me that her ladyship is doing somewhat poorly since that prodigious rain, and naturally if we are to have Lord Hughes and Mr. Hawkins to our soiree at the end of the week, we cannot expect Lady Pomerancy to remain at home,” said Mrs. Dower.
“Mama, whatever are you talking about?”
“Evelyn, were you not attending to me this morning at breakfast when I said that I had got it at last?” Mrs. Dower frowned at her daughter. “Really, child, I expected better of you.”
Evelyn vaguely recalled something to have been said about Lady Pomerancy over the bread and marmalade, but she had scarce attended as she had dwelled in a happy daze on Sir Charles’s latest sonnet to her. “I am sorry. Mama,” she said meekly. “What did you get this morning?”
“My splendid notion, of course. There you are woolgathering again. Perhaps I should box your ears, young lady. In any event, I think it will work very well. Do not you, my dear?” Mrs. Dower contemplated the confused state of the sitting room with a complacent smile.
Evelyn sighed. Sympathetic glances were bestowed upon her by the staff. “Yes, Mama. I completely trust your judgment of the matter.”
Mrs. Dower looked around at her daughter with an expression of pleased astonishment. “How nice of you to say so, dear!”
“If I may say so, madam, I believe that clearing the downstairs drawing room and opening it up to the sitting room so that a buffet supper may be served adjoining the dancing was indeed quite brilliant,” said the housekeeper.
“Thank you, Mrs. Howard. That is just what I wished to say. I could not have said it any better myself,” said Evelyn.
As the housekeeper acknowledged her grateful glance with a small smile, Evelyn linked her arm with her mother’s. She drew her parent over to a displaced settee that had been pushed flush against the delicately papered wall. “I see that you have been hard at work since your return, Mama. Perhaps a pot of tea would refresh us both, for I am positively parched. I fear that I was very unladylike in my expressions of encouragement for Ned.”
While the ladies were seating themselves, Mrs. Dower exclaimed, “The race! I had completely forgotten, silly goose that I am. It was vastly exciting, was it not? Yes, indeed, tea would be splendid. Mrs. Howard, if you please?”
The housekeeper nodded and quietly exited, the footmen following.
“Do tell me, Evelyn! Who was the fortunate winner? Lord Hughes and I were quite unable to see the finish for the crowd. Such a press! I was almost overcome with the dust before Lord Hughes took pity on me and forced our carriage out of the way. But you have not told me yet! Who took the honor of the day?”
“Sir Charles, I fear,” said Evelyn, her thoughts inevitably turning to the impetuous wager that she had embarked upon. It did not occur to her to wonder why that should be more consuming to her than the natural pleasure she must feel that the gentleman whom she favored over her other admirers had won.
“Oh, quite so. One can but feel for one of our own. Poor young Woodthorpe! I suppose that he was very disappointed. But that is the way of these sorts of larks. One really cannot take them too much to heart,” said Mrs. Dower.
“No, Mama,” Evelyn agreed, thinking once again of her own ill-judged challenge to Mr. Hawkins. She sighed slightly.
“Evelyn, are you quite all right?”
Evelyn looked round, startled, to meet an unexpectedly penetrating glance from her mother. She colored guiltily. “Of course I am, Mama. Why shouldn’t I be?”
“I thought you might have a fever. Your color is rather high just now. And you have been so extraordinarily agreeable since you returned from your drive with Mr. Hawkins. Usually after you have been in his company, you are quite put out,” said Mrs. Dower. There came a speculative look into her eyes. “My dear, did he perhaps—”
Evelyn hastened into speech to forestall whatever outrageous inquiry her mother might make. Any questions would lead uncomfortably close to uncovering her own folly. “Am I usually such a disagreeable old cat, then, Mama? I do beg your pardon! I shall promise to do better. Oh, here is our tea. Thank you, Mrs. Howard. I shall pour.”
While she poured, Evelyn kept up a lively discourse on the fine points of the race. “It was all vastly exciting, and quite made me wish that I could drive in just such a dashing fashion.”
Mrs. Dower set her cup into the saucer with a clatter. Anxiously, she said, “Evelyn, surely you cannot be serious? Why, you might be killed! Quite, quite suddenly like your dear papa.”
Evelyn hastened to reassure her mother. “I was not thinking of racing, Mama. I am not quite that mad. However, I do think I should like to learn to drive. I—I do not care to ride, as you will recall, but I thought if I could drive then I would not be thought to be a complete coward.”
“My dear! Who would dare say such a horrid, untrue thing about you? Even though there are so few of us who actually dislike horses—but that is nothing, I do assure you. Apollonia does not think the worse of you, and she is known to be a positively bruising rider,” said Mrs. Dower.
Evelyn laughed. She was touched by her mother’s defense of her fears. “No, but Pol thinks I should get back up on one of the brutes.”
“Under no circumstances are you to do so, Evelyn. I do not mean to order you about, for you are such a strong-minded person that—However, I had such a fright when they summoned me up to the manor. There you lay, just coming to your senses—though one could scarcely tell it from the rattled way that you spoke! No, I would much prefer you to be up behind those great horrid creatures and handling the ribbons,” said Mrs. Dower.
“Then have I your permission to learn to drive, Mama?”
“I cannot quite like it, but if it is to be that or riding, certainly you may do so.” Mrs. Dower regarded her daughter anxiously. “You will promise me not to do as Apollonia suggests, won’t you?”
“Of course I shall. I have as little wish to mount a horse as you have to see me attempt it,” said Evelyn.
“Thank you, dear. You have relieved my mind of a most pressing worry,” said Mrs. Dower.
The housekeeper returned, bearing a large bouquet of pale pink roses. She offered the fragrant flowers to Evelyn. “These have just been brought, miss. There is a card.”
Evelyn took the bouquet and plucked free the card. “Oh, they must be from Sir Charles!” She broke the seal on the missive and opened it, to read, “I have not forgotten—P. Hawkins.” Without Evelyn being conscious of it, her cheeks were swept with a tide of color. She knew instantly that Mr. Hawkins was reminding her of the lost wager.
She looked up to discover her mother and the lingering housekeeper both regarding her. “It—it is from Mr. Hawkins.”
“I do not know why you should be so surprised, Evelyn. The gentleman positively dotes on you,” said Mrs. Dower. “What does he say?”
Evelyn hesitated, then read the short message aloud.
“How very intriguing! What can the man possibly mean?” Mrs. Dower cocked her head as she regarded her daughter, whose expression appeared almost guilty. “One could almost say it was a mysterious son of message.”
“It is no great mystery, Mama. I—I promised Mr. Hawkins to go driving with him again,” said Evelyn quickly.
“How very thoughtful of Mr. Hawkins! Though it does not surprise me in the least that he should extend such a courteous gesture. Not every gentleman would be so kind. I must say, Evelyn, that I shall not be in the least anxious if you are to learn to drive from Mr. Hawkins,” said Mrs. Dower.
Evelyn felt herself sinking into the mire. Aware of the housekeeper’s interested air, she said, “Mrs. Howard, I would be grateful if you could put these i
n water for me.”
“Of course, miss.” The housekeeper took the bouquet and silently withdrew, as Evelyn had hoped that she would.
Evelyn turned to her mother. “Mama, Mr. Hawkins has not offered to teach me to drive. I meant merely that he will take me up again.” She squirmed inside, disliking the untruth even as she felt compelled to make use of it. “And— and we have not decided upon a day, so pray do not tease Mr. Hawkins over it. I—I should not wish to embarrass him if he should forget.”
“Of course I would not tease the gentleman. What an odd notion you have of me, dearest,” said Mrs. Dower. She reached out to give a reassuring pat to her daughter’s hand. “I do not anticipate that Mr. Hawkins will forget, my dear, for it is quite obvious that the gentleman positively dotes on you. Simply everyone has commented upon it to me. It is a pity, however, that Mr. Hawkins has not offered to teach you to drive. Perhaps I shall give him just a little hint.”
“No! Pray do not, Mama.” Evelyn drew in her breath at her mother’s bewildered expression. “Mama, promise me that you will not mention driving at all to Mr. Hawkins.”
“If that is what you wish, Evelyn. But I was quite certain that you told me that you desired to learn to drive, and it seems to me that—” Mrs. Dower saw the darkening expression in her daughter’s eyes and said hurriedly, “I shall not say a word, I promise you.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Evelyn said on a sigh. She turned to the startling statement that her mother had made. “Whatever did you mean when you said everyone has commented upon Mr. Hawkins and myself?”
“Why, it is become quite common knowledge. I have been complimented several times on your good fortune in attaching Mr. Hawkins. The gentleman has always been scrupulously correct in our little society, no doubt out of regard for Lady Pomerancy’s reputation. He has never before shown such partiality for a lady, and so his attentions have been particularly marked these last weeks,” said Mrs. Dower. She regarded her daughter in surprise. “My dear, it is a vast compliment.”
“I do not think so. Surely the gossip mill could find something other than my affairs to talk about,” said Evelyn, her brows still formed in a frown.
“Well, if it were known that someone was actually having a lurid affair, naturally you would not figure at all. However, it has been a rather dull Season thus far, and you are enjoying a singular success, so really it is not at all surprising that you should find yourself talked about,” said Mrs. Dower.
Despite her annoyance, Evelyn was forced to laugh at her mother’s explanation. “I quite understand now, Mama. I suppose that I shall soon be the recipient of compliments regarding your own friendship with Lord Hughes. How lowering to reflect that the next on-dit will supplant us. What very dull personages we are, indeed!”
“I would not say that we are precisely dull, dearest,” said Mrs. Dower. She frowned suddenly at their surroundings. “What color would you prefer for the silk awnings? I had conceived of draping the ceilings, just to add a touch of elegance, for it cannot be denied that these rooms are a trifle boring for an assembly.”
Evelyn realized that her mother’s thoughts had inevitably turned in a different direction. Relieved, she said airily, “Oh, burnished gold, of course. We are both of us well complimented by the shade.”
Mrs. Dower regarded her with approval. “Quite, quite appropriate. I am so glad that you have taste and discretion, Evelyn. So many poor girls do not, and they fall into all manner of scrapes as a result.”
“One indiscretion and I am in the basket with all the rest,” Evelyn said, only half in jest as she was reminded of her wager. She slipped the gilt-edged card bearing Mr. Hawkins’s strong script into her pocket, where it seemed to bum a hole through the fabric of her dress.
Evelyn knew very well the censor that would be hers if word of her idiotic wager was to come out. She could rely upon Mr. Hawkins’s discretion, naturally, but she felt it would be wise to have a quiet word with her maid. Hopefully it was not too late to warn the woman against spilling what she knew in the servants’ wing, for that was the surest way to see gossip spread throughout the town. It was bad enough that the housekeeper had been present as long as she had, for Evelyn suspected that Mrs. Howard would embellish the note with a romantic significance that was quite unwarranted. However, she would far rather have the staff believe that she was wheedling Mr. Hawkins for driving lessons than for them to know the lurid truth.
“Oh, I have far too much faith in you to be anxious on that head,” said Mrs. Dower comfortably.
Evelyn started to laugh, struck by the irony. At her mother’s bewildered look, she shook her head. “It is nothing that I can readily explain. A nonsensical thought, really. Quite, quite silly of me.”
“I do believe you have had too much excitement, dear. Perhaps you should rest this afternoon before dressing for the ball at the manor,” said Mrs. Dower. She got up from the settee to lay hold of the bellpull. “I should have the furniture put back where it belongs, do you not agree? It would look very odd to anyone coming to call.”
Evelyn scarcely heard her mother’s question. “Oh! I had quite forgot the Woodthorpe ball.” Her amusement was abruptly cut short as she realized that she would see Mr. Hawkins again in a few short hours. Her heart thumped. She wondered with a flutter of dread if he would make known to her that evening the stipulations of the rash wager that she had lost to him. It was obvious from his note that he fully intended to have payment.
Her maid’s opinion came back to haunt her, and she wondered whether she could indeed place her complete trust in Mr. Hawkins. He was a gentleman, albeit a finer one than most, but still a gentleman. Everything that she had ever observed and heard had long since led her to the conclusion that, for the most part, gentlemen took advantage of the fairer sex whenever they were given the opportunity.
It would really be too bad of Mr. Hawkins if he chose to take advantage of her. The possibility unaccountably cheered her, even as a frisson of nervousness went down her spine.
“Mama, I think that perhaps I will do as you suggest. I wish to speak to Millie, besides,” said Evelyn, rising from the settee.
“Is there something wrong with your gown, dear?” asked Mrs. Dower, at once concerned.
“Oh no. I merely wished to be certain that she has everything well in hand,” said Evelyn.
“I think that you may trust her on that score,” said Mrs. Dower.
“I am certain that you are right. Mama,” said Evelyn, again hoping that she was not already too late with her warning to the maid. She left the chaotic drawing room as the footmen entered it and were given directions from Mrs. Dower, and went upstairs.
Chapter Twenty
Evelyn had the private word with her maid that she intended. The woman was affronted that her mistress would suspect her of such disloyalty and let Evelyn know it by her wounded silence while dressing Evelyn for the ball.
Evelyn’s temper was somewhat tried by her maid’s martyred air, but when she tripped downstairs to join her mother her irritation vanished and was replaced by a growing anticipation for the delightful evening ahead.
The Dower ladies took their carriage to the Woodthorpe manor. After greeting the squire and Mrs. Woodthorpe, they joined the other guests already in the beautifully decorated ballroom.
The Woodthorpe ball was the most glittering affair of the Season. It appeared that everyone who had received an invitation had chosen to make an appearance. As she surveyed the crowd, Evelyn recognized virtually every personage. It was a good feeling and gave Evelyn confidence in her own social standing. She had always felt the faintest flutter of anxiety when first entering a crowded room, but now she was able to set it aside much more quickly because she was familiar with so many people.
Evelyn’s dance card was filled almost at once, and she was able to completely relax without wondering whether she would suffer the ignobility of sitting out any of the sets. She noticed that her mother’s card was also filled, and she said teasingly, “Mama, I
did not know that matrons were in such high demand.”
Mrs. Dower’s slid a light glance at her daughter. “I am a very fine dancer,” she said simply.
Evelyn laughed. There was not time to say more because the first set was forming and her partner had come up to claim her hand. He was a young gentleman, ill at ease as though it was not often that he was in company. Since Evelyn had met Mr. Sanders before and knew him to be a writer who lived with his elder sister in almost complete seclusion, she was not at all surprised or offended by his tongue-tied greeting.
As Evelyn took her place in the set, she glanced back to see that Lord Hughes was bending over her mother’s hand. Evelyn frowned a little. She had grown accustomed to the attentions that Lord Hughes was forever playing to her mother, but she was still a little uncertain how to take that gentleman. His lordship was perfectly polite toward herself, yet there seemed always an indefinable amusement lurking in his eyes and his manner that made her uncomfortable in his presence. No, not uncomfortable, Evelyn amended, but as though his lordship knew something that she did not. It was a feeling that Evelyn disliked.
The set was a country dance, and as Evelyn came together with her partner, Mr. Sanders asked, “Is something untoward. Miss Dower? You seem rather preoccupied.”
Evelyn looked at the gentleman, startled. She had not realized that Mr. Sanders was so perceptive. She would have to keep closer guard over her expression, she thought, as she smiled at him. “I am merely concentrating on the intricacies of the steps. If I do not, I make a perfect mull of it.”
“I say, that is awfully brave of you to admit.” In a burst of candor, Mr. Sanders confided, “I do also, you know.”
Evelyn had already discovered that the gentleman was a heavy trodder. Her sore toes were proof of it, but she only smiled again. “No one would immediately guess it, sir.”
