Regency Debutantes

by Margaret McPhee

  A gentle snoring sounded from the dowager.

  ‘Of course not! We came to Brighthelmstone for the sake of Lady Maybury’s health.’

  Ravensmede did not correct her misconception.

  ‘I’m her companion. It isn’t right that gentlemen should call upon me here.’

  ‘Then why did you not refuse your permission?’

  She faltered. Why indeed? Shock, disbelief. She had fully intended to do so, but Mr Silverton had been too quick in his assumption. ‘I didn’t grant him my permission,’ she insisted with a degree of stubbornness.

  ‘I don’t think that Mr Silverton understood that to be the case.’

  He was taunting her! How could he change from the caring, passionate man she knew to the arrogant goading creature that sat before her now? Kathryn felt her temper rising. Not only had she to somehow contrive to get rid of Mr Silverton, but she now also had to explain herself to the Viscount. ‘Then he’s a fool,’ she snapped.

  ‘Kathryn, you must have given him some sign to encourage his attentions. Believe me, I know when a gentleman is intent upon securing a lady’s interest. And you appeared to be enjoying his company immensely,’ he said meaningfully.

  ‘Indeed I did, sir, but with the exception of being civil, I assure you that I have given that gentleman no indication that his attentions would be welcomed.’

  Silence.

  She could just imagine the arrogant arch of his eyebrow at her reply, and it irked her, as did his ridiculous assumptions. ‘How could you even think that I would encourage him?’

  ‘How indeed?’ Irony laid heavy on his words.

  An exasperated sigh escaped her. ‘You’re being unfair, my lord.’

  ‘And you’re being completely fair, are you, Kathryn?’

  A blush rose in her cheeks. ‘I know my place,’ she said quietly. ‘Be assured that I have no intention of receiving Mr Silverton as a visitor.’

  ‘Really? I think that my grandmother may have other ideas on that matter.’

  ‘Then think what you will, Lord Ravensmede,’ she said, ‘your mind is clearly made up, far be it for me to try to change it.’

  ‘Kathryn Marchant, you are the most infuriating of women.’

  ‘Of that I’m most heartily glad!’ she retorted.

  The volume of Ravensmede’s voice increased. ‘God help me, you drive me to—’

  ‘Nicholas?’ Lady Maybury’s croaked through the darkness.

  ‘Grandmama,’ the Viscount replied with forced serenity. It sounded as if his teeth had ground together.

  ‘Why are you shouting at my companion?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am.’

  Kathryn felt the old lady raise herself up on the seat. ‘It isn’t my pardon you should be begging,’ she said quietly. ‘I haven’t a mind to find myself a new companion quite yet.’

  A slowing of the carriage. The crunch of footsteps outside the door.

  ‘Forgive me, Miss Marchant.’ Following his stiff words, the Viscount opened the door and jumped down from the carriage before the steps were in place. He waited until they were fitted before helping first Lady Maybury, and then her companion, out into the gloomily lit darkness. The glow of the street lanterns was not sufficient to safely light their path up the stone stairs to the front door of the house so Ravensmede took both ladies’ arms in his to act as guide.

  Kathryn felt the tension in the muscles beneath her fingers, though her touch was light as a dragonfly and knew the man beside her was angry beyond belief. What she did not yet fully understand was why. Assuredly she should not have answered him back, but his accusations were silly in the extreme. As if she would encourage any man’s attentions! Her mind flitted back to the passions she had shared with Nicholas. Oh, heavens! She began to have an appreciation of his point. If she could respond so readily to him, then he had every reason to believe her a woman of loose moral fibre. Oh Lord, what a web she had spun herself into!

  Mr Silverton waited only as long as the following afternoon to call upon Miss Marchant, and had the audacity to bring with him quite the most ridiculously outsized arrangement of flowers that had been seen for a long time.

  ‘Ah, Mr Silverton.’ Lady Maybury sounded encouraging.

  ‘Lady Maybury, a pleasure to see you again, ma’am. Is Miss Marchant—’

  The dowager smiled a smile of sweetness and light. ‘She is almost ready. A young lady’s toilette must never be rushed, sir. The result would be too disastrous to imagine.’

  ‘Indeed, my lady. I didn’t mean to hurry Miss Marchant. I’m happy to wait upon her leisure.’

  ‘I’m sure you are.’ The smile deepened.

  Mr Silverton smoothed his neckcloth. ‘Is Lord Ravensmede at home?’

  ‘Why, did you wish for a word?’ her ladyship asked.

  ‘No, no,’ Mr Silverton said with undue haste. ‘I was merely being polite. No need to disturb his lordship.’

  ‘Quite,’ agreed Lady Maybury, and then confided, ‘It is for the best. He can be prone to a cantankerous disposition when disturbed by unannounced visitors, although I’m sure that would not be the case with you.’

  Mr Silverton appeared to have developed an irritation in his throat. He coughed loudly and shifted from one foot to the other.

  The awkwardness of the moment was alleviated by the appearance of a maid who quietly informed her ladyship that Miss Marchant was feeling unwell and would not be able to receive Mr Silverton.

  The dowager’s brows knitted. ‘What nonsense is this?’ She peered at the unfortunate maid. ‘She was as fit as a fiddle not half an hour ago. Tell Kathryn to come down this instant or I shall be forced to fetch her myself.’

  Five minutes later Kathryn entered the drawing room to have the huge mass of flowers suddenly thrust upon her.

  ‘How kind, Mr Silverton. Perhaps if I were to just put them down here until—’

  The dowager interrupted. ‘Of course, my dear. The maid shall see to them. What’s all this about feeling unwell? Perhaps it would be better to postpone the drive until another day.’

  A look of hope entered Kathryn’s eyes.

  ‘I shall ring for tea and cakes and leave you young things together.’ She smiled again at Harry Silverton. ‘And ensure that Lord Ravensmede knows not to disturb you.’

  The young man coughed and glanced around nervously as if he thought Lord Ravensmede was about to appear..

  With Nicholas’s accusations still clear in Kathryn’s mind, Lady Maybury’s suggestion seemed unbearable. ‘Thank you, my lady, but there’s no need. I feel quite recovered.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said the dowager somewhat doubtfully.

  ‘Absolutely positive,’ said Kathryn.

  ‘In that case, be sure to have a lovely time on your drive.’

  Kathryn eyed Lady Maybury anxiously. ‘I shall not be long, my lady.’

  ‘Take as long as you like, dear gel.’ The old lady’s hand waved imperiously. ‘No need to hurry back.’

  Mr Silverton’s nerves vanished in an instant. He beamed his gratitude at the dowager.

  ‘Off you go, then,’ said Lady Maybury from the other side of the drawing room.

  The couple walked across the brightly decorated rug.

  Just as Mr Silverton’s hand touched to the door handle the elderly voice boomed, ‘You will bring m’gel back safely, won’t you, sir? I fear that I have a tendency to overprotectiveness when it comes to m’companion.’

  The young man flushed an unbecoming shade of puce, and announced dramatically, ‘Indeed, my lady. I shall guard Miss Marchant with my very life.’

  Lord Ravensmede did not enter the drawing room until he had heard the bang of the front door. He strolled nonchalantly to the window and watched while Harry Silverton drove Kathryn away in a hideously over-decorated green-and-black painted phaeton.

  ‘I fancy Mr Silverton is quite taken with her. If I’m not mistaken, an offer will be forthcoming before we leave for London,’ said his grandmother fr
om behind his shoulder.

  ‘Unfortunately it appears that you may be right,’ he said.

  One white brow lifted. ‘He’s heir to a small fortune, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘True, though it’s earned through trade.’ Ravensmede’s eyes were still trained upon the diminishing dot in the distance.

  ‘What’s wrong with that? He may not be an aristocrat, but he’s wealthy enough to provide her with a life of comfort.’

  ‘Harry Silverton’s father owns a string of coffee houses across the country, as well as a sugar plantation in the West Indies. The family are from Bristol and are here only for a short break.’ Despite the bright sunshine in the room a sombre aura clung to Lord Ravensmede. ‘I’ve a notion that Kathryn wouldn’t approve of the Silverton family’s interest in slavery.’

  His grandmother frowned. ‘Good gad!’

  ‘It’s also rumoured that they have significant investments in the overseas slave trade, although if Lansdowne’s bill goes through that won’t last for much longer.’

  ‘Blast! That means Silverton won’t do at all. Can’t have her marrying into a family like that.’ She eyed him sharply. ‘I suppose I should be thankful that you’ve been thorough in your enquiries, m’boy.’ The old lady wandered across the room and sat herself neatly upon the sofa. ‘Is there any gentleman either here or in London that you would recommend as a husband for Kathryn?’

  ‘No.’ The Viscount’s reply was definite.

  Lady Maybury’s eyes were focused upon her grandson’s face. ‘But if you were to give the matter some thought, perhaps you would be able to come up with a suitable candidate.’

  ‘I do not think so, ma’am.’ Ravensmede’s lips compressed into a hard line.

  ‘It’s unlike you to admit defeat with such ease,’ his grandmother goaded.

  An ache was growing in the Viscount’s chest. ‘I’m not normally asked to play matchmaker.’

  She sighed. ‘Does not Kathryn deserve this little happiness? A husband, children of her own?’

  ‘She’s happy as she is. There’s no need for her to marry.’

  ‘You wish her to stay a companion to me for ever? And what when I’m dead, what will happen to her then? Servant to another old woman? Or, worse still, mistress to some man? Believe me, Nick, when I tell you that it’s no life for a girl like Kathryn. I know this is not easy for you, boy, but it’s for the best. So, please, just give the matter a little thought.’

  He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. ‘Very well. I promise I’ll give serious consideration to what you’ve asked.’

  The faded green eyes held his with a sudden intensity. ‘I sincerely hope so, Nick. I’ve come to care very much for Kathryn, and as an unmarried lady she’s vulnerable…in all sorts of ways. I cannot rest easy until I know the gel is settled in marriage.’

  ‘Grandmama, you’ve saved Kathryn from a life of misery, and offered her a home with you. What harm can come to her? She’s safer now than she’s ever been.’

  ‘Is she?’ she asked in a strange tone of voice. The old hand moved to clasp his, and she sighed. ‘Life is never that simple.’

  At last Kathryn saw the blessed emergence of the familiar front door. If the phaeton had not stood so high upon the ground, she would have leapt down herself without having to suffer the indignity of Harry Silverton’s hands around her waist.

  ‘Mr Silverton!’ she chided when he seemed reluctant to relinquish his hold upon her person.

  The gentleman’s corn-gold hair glistened in the sunlight. His deep blue eyes held admiration. ‘You’re such a vision of loveliness as to make a gentleman forget himself.’ But he released her nevertheless. ‘Will you be attending Lady Richardson’s ball tonight?’

  ‘I don’t know what Lady Maybury has planned. As her companion it’s my duty to accompany her in whatever her wishes might be.’ She struggled to remove her fingers from Mr Silverton’s clasp and attempted to hurry up the stone stairs to the front door.

  Mr Silverton matched her every step. ‘May I be so bold as to suggest that I call again tomorrow? We could perhaps drive further out into the country.’

  ‘No. I don’t think so, sir.’ Kathryn wished to spare Mr Silverton’s pride; had seen the effects of her cousin’s cruel words too many times not to feel some sympathy for the young man standing so hopefully beside her. ‘I believe Lady Maybury has already made arrangements for tomorrow.’

  ‘Then I shall call the following day.’ They were standing beside the heavy wooden door.

  Kathryn made to press the bell, but not before his fingers plucked her hand to his lips. ‘No.’ She surreptitiously tried to pull away, while taking care not to create a scene. ‘I thank you for your kind invitation, and indeed I’ve enjoyed our pleasant drive today, but I cannot accompany you again any day this week.’ Mr Silverton’s grip was surprisingly strong.

  ‘Why ever not, Miss Marchant?’ The blue eyes held hers with rather too much intimacy than that with which she was comfortable. ‘Without you I shall fade as a flower deprived of sunlight.’ He pulled her closer.

  ‘Because she’ll be accompanying me,’ a deep voice drawled as the door swung open.

  Kathryn had never been so relieved to see Nicholas. ‘Lord Ravensmede,’ she uttered faintly, unsure of how much of the conversation he had overheard.

  In one swift movement he had plucked Kathryn to stand behind him in the hall, leaving the golden-haired young man upon the step. ‘I bid you good day, Mr Silverton.’

  Harry Silverton lingered only a moment longer, then, with a low and elaborate flourish of a bow, he was gone.

  The door slammed in his wake.

  ‘Oh, Nicholas, thank you!’ Relief swamped Kathryn. She wrapped her arms around the Viscount’s body in a bear hug and pressed her cheek to the broad expanse of his chest. ‘I thought he would never go. He was so very insistent and I didn’t wish to be unkind.’ Freshly laundered linen, and soap, and bergamot tickled her nose. She relaxed against him. ‘I can only pray that he doesn’t mean to make me an offer!’

  His hands touched to her back in a gentle gesture.

  Her eyes were still closed, her body nestled into his.

  Ravensmede stood very still. It seemed that even his breath had halted.

  There was the sudden rattle of china and a footman carrying a heavily loaded tea tray appeared at the top of the staircase leading up from the kitchen.

  Kathryn’s eyes sprung open, her body tensed for flight.

  The footman did not look in the entwined couple’s direction once. He merely trotted across the hallway, tapped politely on the library door, and waited until a loud female voice bid him enter.

  ‘Thank you, Toby,’ said Lady Maybury. ‘I thought I heard a carriage outside. If Miss Marchant has returned, have her come through for tea.’

  By the time the footman had reappeared to impart this message Kathryn was standing innocently by Lord Ravensmede’s side. Meekly she turned towards the library door.

  ‘Ah, Nick as well,’ said the dowager and raised an eyebrow. ‘You had best come in before the tea grows cold.’ Only once three cups of steaming tea had been delivered in the finest of saucers did Lady Maybury continue between sips, ‘Why, my dear gel, has Mr Silverton overtaxed you?’ The faded green eyes peered sharply at her companion’s face. ‘I do declare that your colour appears unnaturally high and you seem to be a little out of breath.’ The dowager appealed to her grandson. ‘Am I not right, Nick? Pray do examine Kathryn’s visage.’

  It was true that Kathryn had indeed appeared a trifle flushed upon entering the library, her embarrassment due to the realisation that she had just thrown her arms around Lord Ravensmede and her wholly inappropriate action had been witnessed by a footman, who was now guaranteed to delight in informing the whole of Ravensmede’s staff of what he had seen. Beneath the dowager’s blatant scrutiny the faint rose bloom intensified to a scarlet flame of colour. Had the dowager heard her words to Nicholas? Did she have any inclination of exactly
what her companion had just done? Kathryn forced herself to meet the faded green gaze. There was nothing of shock or anger there, only a little sadness.

  ‘Grandmama, I’m sure Kathryn’s cheeks are flushed only from the fresh air.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Lady Maybury. ‘I’m all-agog to hear the news regarding her drive with Mr Silverton. Pray tell all, my dear.’

  Kathryn took a fortifying gulp of tea. ‘We travelled along the coastal road in order to enjoy the views. They are indeed quite spectacular.’

  ‘How far along the coastal road?’ said the Viscount.

  ‘To a place named Rottingdean, whereupon we turned around and came back by the same route.’

  Lady Maybury frowned. ‘I had thought Mr Silverton’s drive to be limited to the park.’

  Kathryn did not want to cause trouble for the young man, but neither was she prepared to risk giving the impression that she liked him. ‘He thought that I would prefer the scenery along the coast.’

  ‘And did you agree to this change of plan?’ asked the dowager.

  A pause. ‘No.’

  ‘Shall Mr Silverton be calling again?’ A white eyebrow raised in enquiry.

  Ravensmede’s gaze slid to Kathryn’s.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I hope that he will not.’

  The old lady sighed. ‘It is just as well.’

  Kathryn’s eyes widened. ‘I thought—’

  Lady Maybury leaned towards Kathryn. ‘I had high hopes for you and him. He seemed such a personable young man too. But that was before I learned where his family’s money comes from.’ She sniffed disapprovingly. ‘Slavery,’ she said succinctly.

  Kathryn’s cup clanked back down against her saucer, and said quietly, ‘Then it is for the best that he will not be coming back.’

  A silence followed.

  ‘You said the views along the coastal road are impressive,’ said Ravensmede.

  ‘Yes, they’re wonderfully scenic.’

  ‘In that case, why don’t we travel the route ourselves? We could spend the day on the beach, Cook can pack us a basket of food…and you can take your paintbox. Would tomorrow suit?’