The evening ball was held in the assembly rooms, and it was considered a great honour to be invited to attend by the patronesses. Damaris knew that the mother of her friend, Elizabeth, was one of the assembly patronesses, therefore a verbal invitation from the daughter would probably be enough to ensure entry. However in the event, Elizabeth’s mother did send a messenger around that morning with an invitation.
Everyone knew that Lilly Paddington was Damaris’ companion, and Elizabeth would even have been able to confirm that for her mother since she had spoken with Lilly the day before, so it rankled slightly that the invitation was for Damaris ‘and Guest’, rather than naming Lilly.
Damaris knew that Lilly wasn’t of her social class and whilst she was middle class and educated, her parents weren’t wealthy enough to allow their daughters entry into the upper echelons of Society. Damaris also knew that she shouldn’t let these petty judgements get to her but she had been removed from Society for so long, that she knew it would be a chore to mind all their silly, and sometimes offensive, rules.
Knowing that she didn’t have the temperament to socialise all day, Damaris attended only the afternoon events, so that she could become reacquainted with a few people before the ball that evening.
She was sorry not to be wearing her usual black; it had become something of a uniform, but since this was a celebration of summer and since she wished to appear open and approachable, she had allowed herself to be dressed in a claret shade. Besides, black would look far too out of place amongst the white and pastels of the other ladies.
Their driver helped her and Lilly down from the carriage and Damaris took a deep breath, before walking with purpose towards the marquee on the north side of the Green.
Everyone stared as she strode passed but Damaris kept her head high and ignored them.
“Smile!” Lilly hissed under her breath.
“Pardon?”
“Smile! You’ve got a face like a slapped arse!”
Damaris couldn’t help but smile at that; for all the refinement that Lilly had been taught while employed by her family, the working class roots of her grandparents still showed now and again. Damaris actually liked many of her sayings, since they were so much more pointed than the polite yet moderate insults of the upper classes.
She linked her arm through Lilly’s and relaxed a little, telling herself that this wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. She wasn’t facing a firing squad after all, just a social event, albeit her first in years.
“Mari!”
She turned to the woman who had called her name.
“Eliza!” She was surprised at the happiness she felt upon seeing her friend and the hug she gave Elizabeth was genuine. “You look so different!” she exclaimed as she pulled away.
“Well, it has been a while. I’m married now.”
“I remember you told me of your engagement. I’m sorry that-”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth cut her apology off before she could offer it and turned to Lilly. “Do you mind if I steal her away for a while, Mrs Paddington? We have so much catching up to do.”
“Of course not,” Lilly smiled. “I think I’ll find a table in the marquee to settle at.”
Damaris knew that she would settle with the nannies and governesses. As used to mixing with the upper classes as she was while acting as Damaris’ companion, Lilly was happier among the servants.
Elizabeth slipped her arm through Damaris’ and they began a leisurely stroll around the Green, taking a wide berth around the marquee.
“Before you are overcome with well-wishers, let me quickly say how very sorry I am about your father.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you all right?”
“I am. Oddly, I’m pleased to know what happened, now I just need to discover why.”
“Is that why you returned?”
Damaris gave her friend a sad look. “I know I’m an awful friend.”
“Oh, hush!” Elizabeth chastised. “True friends don’t need constant contact and that’s all we’ll say on the matter.”
Damaris smiled, remembering how she had always liked Elizabeth’s easy and forthright manner.
“Then yes, that is why I returned.”
“Any luck?”
“No,” Damaris sighed. “But it’s early days.”
“I’ll keep my ears open for you, in case I hear anything that might be relevant.”
“Thank you and if I may be so bold, I’m specifically interested in anyone who may have seen him riding out on that Sunday, as well as any unusual observations from the preceding few weeks.”
“Understood,” Elisabeth smiled. “So, are you still reading Greek Philosophy?”
“Oh no, you know how I am; always flitting from one subject to another.”
“Only because you read everything on any given topic so quickly,” Elizabeth teased. “So what interests you these days?”
“Well, you will think this terribly unladylike but before I came here, I was studying the laws of motion.”
“Oh, such as?” Elizabeth looked confused.
“Heliocentricism.” When she saw that her friend still looked puzzled, she explained further. “The movement of the earth around the sun.”
“Oh, you mean like Galileo?”
“Yes, he’s one of the men who proposed that theory but his work has been much improved upon since then, by the likes of Copernicus, Keppler and of course, our own Isaac Newton.”
It seemed clear that Elizabeth had little interest in science. “Do you enjoy it?” her friend asked.
“It keeps me occupied.”
Elizabeth frowned at such an odd response but she rallied none the less. “Well, as long as it gives you pleasure, that’s all that matters.”
Damaris didn’t comment again. “And life here is treating you well?”
“Very well,” Elizabeth smiled. “I’ll introduce you to my husband later.”
“Do I know him?”
“I don’t believe so. He’s the second son of a Scottish Laird.”
Unlike Damaris, whose family had no wealth but two sons, Elizabeth was the eldest daughter of a wealthy family but they had no male heirs to pass the family’s wealth to. The match that their eldest daughter made was therefore of vital importance. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon in such cases for the parents’ choice to be more important than the child’s, but Damaris hoped that her friend’s forthright nature had seen off any suitors who were more interested in her estate than her wellbeing.
“And do you care for him?”
“Very much,” Elizabeth smiled. “He is quite the handsomest man I have ever met, and he is ever so genial. I’m sure that in no time at all, you will love him as I do.”
Damaris gave her friend a wicked grin. “Not exactly as you do, I hope?”
Elizabeth giggled. “Oh, Mari, you are bad.”
“Lady Wellesley, Lady Wellesley!”
The women turned to see a short, stout lady, who was waving at them and doing her best to rush without running.
“Oh well, Eliza, it was fun while it lasted,” Damaris lamented.
“Never fear, dearest, I shall call on you soon and we will have hours to chat and reminisce.”
Damaris gave her friend a brave smile, then they turned to the lady, who was about to come within hearing distance.
“Oh, Lady Wellesley, how lovely it is to see you here again. I declare, our town hasn’t been the same without your radiant image about the place.”
“Thank you, Mrs Sanders. I have to admit, I have missed the many familiarities of Lanford.” ‘Although not many of the people,’ she silently added.
“I was so sorry to hear the news of your father, but then with him so long missing, we could hardly expect anything else. I never believed for a moment that he had run off; he was such a responsible gentleman.”
“Indeed, he was. Did you know my father well?”
“Oh no, not really. Which is to say, no more than most. But I recall t
hat he was always a very reliable man, always kept his word.”
“He did.” Damaris realised that Mrs Sanders didn’t know anything useful, so moved the conversation on. “I hope you have been well?”
They resumed walking around the edge of the Green.
“Oh yes, very well. My oldest three daughters are now married to fine young men, only my son, Arthur remains unattached. He is very pleased to know that you are back in town and told me to ask you for a dance this evening, if you are attending.”
Whilst aristocratic by birth, Mrs Sanders’ family had little wealth and she had long been hoping to marry all her children off to wealthy individuals, hence before her marriage to a Wellesley, Mrs Sanders and her children had hardly given Damaris the time of day. Now that she was a wealthy widow however, that had changed.
“Then I shall save him one of the cotillions.” If she recalled correctly, Arthur Sanders had never liked cotillions. “I must claim surprise at his interest however; why in six months out in Society before my marriage, I don’t believe I had two dances with him.”
Elizabeth elbowed her gently in the ribs by way of reproach.
Mrs Sanders waved her comment away. “Well he is very much looking forward to rectifying that.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a similar fashion and Damaris had never shown such interest in maypole nor Morris dancing in her life, but since it would be rude to interrupt someone enjoying the displays, these were her only few moments of respite.
At four o’clock she’d had her fill of socialising and finding Lilly, they headed home. Once safely in the confines of the carriage, Damaris leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
“It will get easier,” Lilly tried to console her.
“If anything, it is worse than ever,” she lamented. “Not only am I out of practice, everyone seems to have a son who is just dying to see me again, or meet me, or dance with me. I am honestly not sure for how much longer I can hold my tongue.”
“From what I was hearing, you didn’t do much holding this afternoon.” Though she was sympathetic, her tone was slightly disapproving.
Damaris opened her eyes and sighed. “Then it is a good thing that people are willing to forgive a rich widow an awful lot.”
Lilly shook her head. “Did you at least learn anything about your father?”
“Nothing of consequence,” she confessed, her gaze drawn to the carriage window. “I think it is probably the men that I shall learn the most from, they are less inclined to spread idle gossip and rather more likely to have had dealings with him.”
“Well, I think you did very well today, my dear.”
Damaris looked at her, surprised.
“I know it can’t be easy for you, and I’m sorry if I sounded a little harsh earlier.”
Damaris smiled; the praise meant a lot coming from Lilly.
***
Damaris’ evening gown was a deep blue, which flattered her eyes but she was not best pleased with it. The empire line silk dress was cut very low and her short corset had to be tied so tightly, that she almost felt as if her bosoms were under her arms.
The sleeveless robe worn over the dress was a darker shade of blue, had an empire line bodice which fastened under the bust with a bejewelled clasp, was gathered at the rear with a slight train, and was embroidered with glass beads and metallic spangles, which would catch the candle light.
“You look… stunning,” Lilly said as Damaris examined herself in the mirror.
“I look like a courtesan,” Damaris argued, trying to pull the dress higher over her bust.
“Hush.” Lilly slapped her hand away. “It is the fashion and it suits you well.”
“Can I not wear a chemisette to fill in the neck?”
“Nonsense, you look lovely.”
“But I feel so… exposed.”
“You haven’t kept up with fashion for a very long time, Damaris, in fact I can hardly remember the last time when you weren’t in mourning dress, or your husband’s clothing. Society will not hold with such things, my girl, no matter how practical gentlemens’ dress may be and you have to shape up your ideas if you want to be a part of it once again.”
“But I don’t want to be a part of it!” she complained. “As soon as this is settled, I intend to go home and keep to myself.”
“Well that’s as may be, but you have your reasons for joining Society again right now and you have to look the part.”
“Very well,” Damaris sighed. “Now, let me help you into your gown.”
As Lilly turned away, Damaris surreptitiously tried once again to haul her collar higher, but to little avail.
Chapter Five
Nathaniel hadn’t been looking forward to the May Ball this evening and in fact, had been intending to make his excuses, if he could but upon hearing his mother and sister gossiping that Lady Wellesley was to attend, he found the idea rather more appealing.
He had discovered relatively little in the way of suspects for her father’s death, but he believed that he had discovered a great deal about her character, although he still found her to be a puzzle.
Just two days ago she had been exceptionally rude and all but thrown him from her house and at the time, he had promised that he would have as little to do with her throughout the rest of the investigation, as was possible.
Now, after speaking with Charles Howard’s friends at the club, then to his mistress, he found himself quite fascinated with the woman. They had used a number of verbs to describe Damaris to him, including intelligent, generous, extraordinary, bright, gifted, and kind to a fault; nothing at all like the experience he had of her character.
He might have blamed her bereavements for the change in her character, since many people hadn’t had much contact with her in recent times, except for the fact that her father’s mistress still visited with her for two weeks out of every year, and spoke most highly of her.
The mistress, Marissa, also wasn’t at all what he might have expected. She was exceptionally pretty but very demure, almost chaste, but once she learned that he was a friend of Damaris (only a small white lie, he felt) she was very open with him.
She came from a well to do family but they were without wealth and as such, when a wealthy young Lord, whom she refused to name, appeared interested in courting Marissa, her mother did her best to push them together. The result was Marissa’s disgrace as it soon became clear to everyone, after he had compromised her, that she was a mere dalliance to him and he had never truly been interested in her as a potential wife.
To save her sisters and the rest of her family disgrace, she had left before what happened became common knowledge. She had managed to save some of her pin money each week but once she got to London, it didn’t go anywhere near as far as she expected.
When Charles Howard came upon her one day, offering her his assistance since she was out alone, she had explained that she was an orphan and looking for a position. He had no position to give her but did offer to provide for her and feeling that she had little option, she accepted.
When he didn’t require her favours in return, she was shocked, having come to think the worst of all men. He found apartments for her and visited her frequently. She came to trust him and confided the truth of her situation, which he took very well and continued to visit. He began to confide in her also, telling her of his fine daughter, and his less than fine sons and wife.
They fell in love, she claimed, and Nathaniel was inclined to believe her.
Although they did not meet until after Charles died, the picture she painted of Damaris from Charles’ description was of a very lively young woman, who was exceptionally talented at any number of things.
Charles was unable to provide for Marissa in his will and even if he had, his estate hadn’t been settled yet since his body was only recently discovered. He had however, left a letter for Damaris with his lawyer, which was to be given to her in the event of his death. After a month without hide nor hair of Charles, the law
yer took it upon himself to forward the letter to Damaris, with explanations. He knew some of its contents and he worried that Charles’ wishes were not being observed.
The letter asked her to take care of Marissa and since Damaris had so recently given birth, Marissa was summoned to Wellesley Hall.
Marissa was very taken with the young woman and it seemed, Damaris was quite taken with her. Since Marissa‘s London address might be known to people who had the wrong impression of her character, Damaris had arranged for her to have a small house and servant on the outskirts of town, and provided her with a large enough allowance that Marissa was now free to live without a gentleman.
She spent her days writing but had only sent her stories to Damaris as she felt she had little talent. Damaris had asked on many occasions, to let her send the manuscripts to publishing houses and even offered to fund a book herself, but Marissa felt that she was not talented enough for that.
All in all, the impression he was given of Damaris was so wholly different from his own, as to be almost the exact opposite. Now that he had a second chance to get to know her, he intended to do his best to discover who she really was; he hoped that she gave him the opportunity.
Alighting from the carriage first, he helped his mother and sister down, leaving his younger brother, Matthew, to exit on his own. By unspoken agreement, he escorted their mother while Matthew offered his arm to their sister, Annabelle.
Although he had spent far longer than usual with his valet, picking an outfit, he still fiddled with the front of his tailcoat as they walked. While dark trousers were coming into fashion for men, Nathanial still preferred to wear breeches for formal occasions, as did his brother. He wondered if Damaris would prefer trousers or breeches.
“Nate, stop fussing,” his brother teased, as they walked towards the assembly hall. “You know any woman in this town would kill for your title and lands.”
“Not every woman,” Annabelle teased.
“You don’t count,” Matthew told her.
Her Saving Grace Page 5
