Debutantes

by Charlotte Bingham

  ‘Of course you do understand, don’t you, Herbert dear?’ she enquired. ‘You do understand the procedure on this occasion? Well, of course you do. Because, you see, since Louisa will not by then have been formally presented she herself will not be able to attend the ball.’

  Herbert looked up thunderstruck. Such a thought had never occurred to him. Having only ever had entirely general conversations about the conventions and customs of introducing a daughter he was of the opinion that it was a perfectly straightforward matter. He had no idea whatsoever of the detailed protocol involved and until she had discussed the matter fully with Lady Lanford neither, much to her private astonishment, had his socially inexperienced wife.

  Now, however, being well primed with the dos and don’ts Jane was anxious to make sure that Herbert was made aware of them too. She could see from the dark look on his broad, highly coloured face that he was not taking too kindly to the notion of his daughter being barred from the most important social occasion of the Forrester family’s life.

  ‘Yes, I am quite sure you find it perfectly ludicrous, Herbert,’ Jane agreed when Herbert had finished having his say. ‘I know this is not the way you are accustomed to doing things, but this is the way of Society. Louisa may not be introduced to their Royal Highnesses – or anyone else in Society, come to that – until she has been formally presented at a Drawing Room or a levee at Buckingham Palace.’

  ‘Then let us postpone the do here until she has been!’ Herbert suggested, holding on to his patience with difficulty. ‘I say it’s plain daft to go spending all this money throwing some great expensive do for their Royal Highnesses when the person we are doing all this for is not allowed to meet them! It’s plain daft!’

  Jane sighed. ‘Even if we could postpone it, Herbert dear—’

  ‘What do you mean, Jane? Even if? It’s up to us, isn’t it? When, where and if we give this do or not!’

  ‘And it isn’t a do, Herbert dear. It is a ball. It is Mr and Mrs Herbert Forrester At Home to meet their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales. I would hardly call that a do, Herbert. And the reason we cannot postpone it,’ she continued, holding up a hand to signal to her husband that she intended finishing her point, ‘the reason we cannot postpone is firstly because at this stage it would be impossible to find another occasion when their Royal Highnesses might be at liberty to grace us with their presence, and secondly because Lady Lanford says this is the most correct way of doing things, particularly for people such as us—’

  ‘People such as us?’ Herbert’s complexion was getting ruddier by the minute. ‘Our money’s no different from anyone else’s money. It may be newer, but it’s no different. In fact it’s a whole lot healthier than some I could mention, who have made their fortunes out of all sorts of miseries.’

  ‘By that Lady Lanford means people like us who are so far unknown in Society, dear,’ Jane said as soothingly as possible. ‘She was casting no aspersions on us personally.’

  ‘I should hope not. A woman like her. A woman like her would hardly be in a position to go casting personal aspersions, Jane. She has the widest of reputations, and thoroughly earned, as I hear.’

  Jane frowned at Herbert, hoping to signal to him that was as far as he was to go in front of Louisa, but although Herbert didn’t catch the warning look Jane’s assurances had fortunately calmed him down. Instead, her husband drained his wine and nodded to his butler to recharge his glass. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘So what is the procedure?’

  Jane outlined the plans for the ball and then detailed the protocol for receiving members of the royal family. Herbert listened attentively, only to push his chair back from the table and groan deeply when Jane had finished.

  ‘Are we not to be allowed any ideas of our own for this ball? I get the feeling your friend Lady Lanford is taking over the thing lock, stock and barrel. Telling us what to do and how to do it. After all it’s us giving this do, not her.’

  ‘Of course, Herbert dear,’ Jane agreed, delicately touching the corner of her mouth with her napkin in just the way she had observed Daisy Lanford doing on their travels. ‘However, speaking personally I do not feel sufficiently well versed in these matters to undertake such a complicated occasion without the guidance of someone as knowledgeable as Lady Lanford. And as I am sure you will agree, no-one is more knowledgeable about social etiquette than her.’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes, I’m sure,’ Herbert said impatiently, eating and drinking at the same time. ‘But I don’t want nowt fancy. We’re not that sort of folk. We’re not fancy.’

  ‘I assure you there is nothing fancy about Lady Lanford’s plans, Herbert. They are in the best possible taste.’

  ‘One thousand red roses just to make up arch over ballroom? Another five hundred to decorate supper tables? A hundred potted azaleas for the bandstand alone? Not fancy? Even the serviettes are to be folded up like swans. And what is this, do you mind, about a theatre in grounds?’

  ‘First things first, Herbert dear.’ She waited a moment while the maids cleared away their plates. ‘Red roses yes, because they happen to be his Royal Highness’s favourite bloom, and a theatre – only temporary mind – a theatre is to be built in the grounds to house an entertainment Lady Lanford is to have especially commissioned for the occasion.’

  ‘And we are to pay for.’

  ‘Herbert, please, you have just agreed we must be guided by her ladyship who assures me an entertainment is precisely what the Prince of Wales will expect, at the very least. You do not want us to become the laughing stock of the Season, do you?’ Jane added hastily, seeing the dangerous look returning to her husband’s eyes. ‘Because Society people are notoriously difficult to please, you know. It only takes the getting of one thing wrong and there would be no need of more entertainment for them, and that’s the truth.’

  Herbert looked at his wife then at his daughter then back at his wife.

  ‘Very well, Jane. Have it your way,’ he said. ‘As you know, people finding me amusing don’t bother me. It’s just water off a duck’s back. But I won’t brook anyone making fun of either you or Louisa here. So do it Lady Lanford’s way, love, if that’s the best and proper way, only just remember. Nothing comes for nothing, right?’

  ‘Whatever can you mean by that, Herbert?’ Jane wondered. ‘You cannot possibly imagine Lady Lanford is going to send us in an account?’

  ‘I meant what I said, Jane,’ Herbert said, rising from his place at the table. ‘Nothing comes for nothing. And you can bet your last farthing Lady Lanford’s not doing all this for nowt.’

  His prediction was to be realized in less time than even he could have foreseen. By the end of the following week, Herbert Forrester was to find out exactly what was the expected price he was going to be privileged to pay.

  A REQUEST FOR PAYMENT

  Daisy Lanford’s brief return to her old home was a triumph. Even though her stay was a last minute arrangement Jane Forrester was inundated with visits from practically all of the most notable people in the locality, each of them angling for an invitation to the dinner and ball they had heard was to be thrown for the Forresters’ famous visitor. If not dinner then everyone in the immediate vicinity certainly expected a summons to attend the ball after dining somewhere else in the neighbourhood, for by now they all knew that the rumour was correct and that it would be attended by none other than the Prince and Princess of Wales.

  As far as Lady Lanford’s brief stay was concerned Herbert Forrester found it difficult not to be personally affronted by the furore created by a visit from the Prince of Wales’s mistress and the mere rumour of her lover’s gracing the ball.

  He had been brought up to believe that to deserve fame people should aspire to do good, but when he saw in the drive at Wynyates the queues of carriages belonging to people he had never even seen let alone met, bringing men’s wives on visits designed especially to solicit invitations to attend the most sought-after social event in the County calendar for years, he real
ized that the reverse was just as true if not more so: notoriety was the flame which truly attracted the moths.

  Everything else he witnessed during those hectic times only confirmed Herbert Forrester’s other belief concerning fame, namely that without merit it was simply pure vanity.

  His wife would have none of this philosophizing. To Jane’s way of thinking dear Lady Lanford had earned the incredible admiration extended to her by her admirers not because she was a royal mistress, but for her great beauty and the sweetness of her disposition. People who said otherwise were only jealous, she insisted. Those who loved Daisy Lanford loved her because she was a wonderful person, and if this included the Prince of Wales then so be it. To Jane Forrester being loved by his Highness the Prince of Wales had to be the highest accolade a woman could be awarded. After all, kings and princes were different to ordinary folk.

  Jane Forrester, like most other people, had been brought up to believe that royalty stood above Society and had such things as prerogatives, special rights which exempted their behaviour from criticism. Royalty stood halfway between ordinary folk and God, and so to Jane Forrester it came as no surprise to see how many rich and notable women flocked to her door in the hope of being invited to be given the chance of meeting one of these semi-divine people.

  In the event some sixty people were finally privileged to dine with the latest and also the previous owner of Wynyates. However, with the exception of four of the Forresters’ oldest friends who had been invited down especially from York to stay for the occasion and three couples of their more recent acquaintance, the other forty-eight guests present were all unknown to their hosts, hand-picked by none other than Daisy Lanford.

  Not that Jane Forrester minded one bit that her dinner party had been taken over by London Society. In fact she felt such a thing would only help to increase her social status rather than diminish it, a sentiment later confirmed by Lady Lanford herself before she took her leave.

  ‘I told you it would be a triumph, my dear Jane,’ she had said, standing in the hall of Wynyates surrounded by the superb flower arrangements she had ordered from her favourite Bond Street florist to augment those from the greenhouses on the estate. ‘Because you asked so few of vem, your neighbours will now all see exactly how exalted you are in Society and consider you to be none uvver van ve jewel in vair social crown.’ Daisy laughed in delight, as from behind Jenkins helped her into her coat before coming round to button it up. ‘Vare are few fings I enjoy more, dear Jane, van frowing a wonderful party and asking no-one local to come! Vat way vey can never second-best one!’

  Daisy’s visit had even been good for Herbert. There had been a lot of very influential people at his dinner party, and over some quite excellent port which had been personally recommended in advance by George Lanford, Herbert had been asked some very searching questions concerning the wisest investments to make in cotton and its subsidiary materials. In return he had shared his knowledge with his guests, recommending certain choice stocks and shares, and was highly delighted to observe during the following week that all of his tips proved as hot as he had dared to predict they would, one share opening at 3d at the inception of trading on Monday to close at 1/9d, representing a very healthy profit for those of Herbert’s dinner guests who had chosen to speculate. Consequently for the rest of the week Herbert found himself lunching and dining with several grateful new friends, two of whom were belted earls and one even a member of the Cabinet.

  * * *

  A fortnight later, a little late of a Tuesday afternoon, he had a surprise caller at his London offices.

  ‘Dear Mr Forrester,’ Daisy Lanford cooed once she had been announced and shown into his private office. ‘You must fink me so frightfully bold to arrive like vis all unannounced.’

  ‘Not at all, Lady Lanford,’ Herbert reassured her, offering her a seat out of the sunlight. ‘I’m just happy you caught me in. I was about to visit my bankers, but I can have them wait.’ He rang a bell to summon a messenger. ‘It’s nowt pressing,’ he explained. ‘Besides, nowadays I enjoy keeping bankers waiting, although it weren’t always so, I can tell you.’

  While Herbert wrote a note for the messenger to take round to his bank, Daisy considered how fortunate he was to be in such a position. The time limit set by her own bankers had all but run out and she was still woefully short of funds.

  In desperation after the dinner at Wynyates she had begged George, which was something Daisy did not enjoy, doing, to borrow some more money from anywhere or anybody and follow the tips she understood their host had so generously imparted to the assembled male company, but much to her fury George had dismissed Herbert as a parvenu with no real knowledge of stocks and shares, suggesting that he was the sort of entrepreneur who liked to try to manipulate the market to his own advantage. As a result of George’s intransigence, while several of their close friends made quick and handsome profits, her idiotic husband as usual missed the boat.

  ‘Now then, Lady Lanford,’ Herbert said, putting back his pen and giving his visitor his full attention.

  ‘Do we not know each uvver well enough to call each uvver by our first names yet, Mr Forrester?’ Daisy wondered with a charming smile. ‘I would be delighted if you would call me Daisy so vat I may call you Herbert.’

  To his surprise as he agreed to this Herbert felt himself blushing, a fact which naturally did not go unnoticed by his visitor. To cover his slight confusion Herbert offered Daisy a glass of Madeira, which she declined while assuring him she would not mind in the very least if he himself drank one.

  ‘You may fink vis most forward of me, Herbert, to call wivout any proper notice,’ Daisy apologized while smiling at him with the innocence of an angel. ‘But it was as ve result of a whim. Ve party I am wiff, whom you met at Wynyates, vat is Lord Loughborough, and dear Edward de Vere Compton, were strolling past here a moment ago when someone saw vis was your office. Because both John Loughborough and Teddy Compton benefited so excellently from your guidance vey insisted I come in and ask you to join us later at my house where I shall be At Home as usual. Is vare any chance of you being able to accept our invitation? Or must your bankers take precedence? Of course we shall all quite understand if vat is to be ve case, for after all you are a very busy man – but we should all be so disappointed.’

  As Herbert hesitated Daisy caught his eyes with hers. This was always her test of a man. If he failed to hold the look she gave him she knew at once that he would be no match for her, and as she trapped Herbert with her famous gaze Daisy wagered to herself that without any shadow of a doubt he would be the first to break it.

  On the contrary and much to her astonishment, far from looking away Herbert regarded Daisy as steadily as she was regarding him. But whereas Daisy had imbued her look with more than a hint of temptation, her quarry’s eyes were as fixed and blank as those of a statue. Even as he smiled which he then did his gaze never wavered, nor did the expression in his eyes change.

  ‘I should be delighted to call on you, Lady Lanford,’ he said finally, his eyes still on hers. ‘Like I said, I see no harm in making bankers wait in line while I visit my friends At Home of an afternoon.’

  ‘How fortunate,’ Daisy replied, uncertain whether she should regard this continuing stare as a victory or a defeat and not too sure of how it was to be broken. ‘I shall, we all shall, we will be so pleased.’

  Even when a member of Herbert’s staff knocked on the door and entered bringing his employer a message on a salver Herbert didn’t take his eyes from my lady’s brilliant blue orbs. He was enjoying the challenge as much as it was bewildering the challenger. He ordered the messenger to put the salver down on the desk, promising that he would attend to it in one moment. He then drained his Madeira, still looking Daisy in the eye over the top of his glass.

  ‘Good,’ he said, putting the empty glass down beside him and going to the door, determined not to be the loser. As he passed her Daisy rose, still smiling and looking him in the eye, neither of them co
nceding defeat even after Herbert had reached the door and held it open for her.

  ‘After you,’ he said, knowing that it was all but impossible for his visitor to pass ahead of him through the doorway without finally having to look away. But Daisy wasn’t quite done yet.

  ‘Your message, Mr Forrester,’ she half whispered as they stood regarding each other in the open doorway. ‘It might be somefing urgent.’

  ‘Morris?’ Herbert called, snapping a finger and thumb in the direction of his busily beavering employees. ‘What was in the note you had sent in to my office?’

  A tall thin bespectacled man rose from his desk. ‘Simply the market figures you requested earlier, Mr Forrester,’ he said. ‘They were exactly as you had predicted, sir.’

  Herbert thanked the man while still smiling at Daisy. ‘Shall we go, Lady Lanford?’ he enquired. ‘It wouldn’t do for you not to be there if you are meant to be At Home.’

  Daisy sighed as if she was about to concede, and as she did Herbert prepared himself for victory. ‘Of course,’ she agreed, and then suddenly bit her bottom lip. ‘Except would you believe it? I have left my reticule on ve chair.’

  As they both well knew, only someone who was not a gentleman would expect a lady to return for something she had forgotten, so knowing that he could not possibly keep his eyes on Daisy while he crossed the width of his office back to where she had been sitting without making himself appear to be totally foolish in front of his now openly watchful staff, Herbert admitted defeat and with a laugh and an amused shake of his head returned to look for my lady’s missing reticule.

  ‘I can’t see it,’ he said, bending over the chair. ‘Are you sure you left it here, Lady Lanford?’ He looked up and saw Daisy close her eyes in mock despair.