Jane Ashford

by Three Graces

  “Brutus!” said Aggie.

  “Juvenal!” snapped Thalia.

  “Nero, you beast!” cried Euphie, all in the same moment.

  They went to retrieve the cats, holding them up and reprimanding them severely, but Pug’s nerves were too shaken to enjoy this spectacle. He continued to huddle miserably on the carpet and howl.

  “Blast that dog,” said Lady Fanshawe finally. “This is beyond anything. I am sending him back to my daughter tomorrow.”

  “No, no,” replied Aggie, “it is we who must do something about the cats. It is your house.” A sudden vision of Brutus on a small scrap of wood, floating down a swift stream, rose before her eyes. She watched a tall young man step out to retrieve him, and her voice trailed off.

  “Yes,” put in Thalia, “we should…” But remembering Juvenal bounding through a forest to find a hidden glade, she too fell silent.

  “No, I have made up my mind,” said the countess, to several people’s profound relief. “Pug must go. He has been clinging to me like a drowning man for days, and it is driving me distracted.”

  There was a pause. They all looked at the miserable Pug. He had stopped howling finally, but he still groveled and slobbered on the rug. None of them could feel truly sorry that he was to go.

  “Tomorrow,” repeated Lady Fanshawe. “And now Jenkins must shut him up somewhere where the cats cannot get at him.” She went over and rang the bell.

  When this had been done, and Brutus, Juvenal, and Nero set free once more, the countess became absorbed in plans for her ball. These were lavish, and the sisters were soon pulled in to help her. The afternoon passed quickly in this way, and all of them were surprised when they found it was time to change for dinner.

  The next two weeks were a whirl of activity. The girls were first put in the hands of an expert haircutter, who achieved similar but slightly different styles for them under Lady Fanshawe’s jealous eye. The general effect, on each, was of a cloud of russet curls, and the countess clasped her hands in joy when she saw them side by side. There were also innumerable expeditions to Bond Street, most particularly to the exclusive shop of a Frenchwoman who was commissioned to create wardrobes for the sisters. Her ecstasy at this assignment exceeded even Lady Fanshawe’s, and she entered into it with such enthusiasm that the girls’ heads were soon reeling from talk of French braid and Russian sleeves, silk lace and flounced hems, and countless other embellishments of which they had never heard. Soon, boxes began to arrive at Lady Fanshawe’s house, and before long, each of their bedrooms was a wilderness of silver paper and new gowns.

  The countess received a flattering number of acceptances to her ball, in spite of the lateness of the invitations. The ton was indeed curious to see why she had come out of her self-imposed seclusion. She had made no mention of the Hartingtons on the cards, against custom, for she insisted that she would startle London. She did let it be known that she was presenting some young friends, and this mystery only increased the ton’s urge to attend.

  Three days before the event, all was ready. The gowns had been sewn, the flowers and refreshments ordered, and the ballroom was being scoured from top to bottom. The countess and the girls sat in the drawing room after another morning of shopping, and all of them looked fatigued. “None of us,” Lady Fanshawe ordered, “must do another thing before the ball. We must rest the whole time, so as to be ready.”

  Euphie laughed. “I don’t think I can. After all the excitement of the last two weeks, I am too agitated.”

  “I know, dear, I feel the same myself, I could hardly keep from snapping at Giles yesterday when he came to see what I was up to.” She smiled. “But I didn’t tell him. He may have his own ideas about this ball, but he knows nothing for certain.”

  “I didn’t know he had called,” replied Euphie in a colorless voice that made her sisters turn to look at her.

  “Oh, yes. You were all out at Madame Verdoux’s. He heard the rumors flying about town, of course, but I told him nothing to the purpose.” She smiled again.

  Euphie was spared from answering by the appearance of Jenkins. “A gentleman and a lady have called, ma’am,” he said, handing Lady Fanshawe a visiting card.

  “Oh, dear.” She took it and read the names. “That’s all right. It’s the Wellfleets. Those are your friends, aren’t they, Aggie?”

  “Yes.” The older girl rose. “Oh, how good it will be to see them.”

  The countess nodded. “Ask them to come up, Jenkins.” And as Aggie started to follow the butler, she added, “My dear, will you do me a kindness?”

  Aggie paused. “Of course.”

  “Would you just stand here, with Thalia and Euphie? There, like that, side by side?” She lined them up near the fireplace, ignoring their puzzled looks. “Yes, that’s it.” The countess stood back. The Hartington sisters wore similar gowns of pale primrose muslin this morning; Lady Fanshawe had been encouraging them to dress alike, though they resisted. The dresses were simple, but elegant, and they brought out the deep blue and greens of their eyes. Their auburn hair was curled and shining, and altogether they made a dazzling picture. “Yes,” said the countess again. “Stay there. I want to try an experiment.” She stepped back and sat down as the girls looked at one another. And in the next moment the Wellfleets walked into the drawing room.

  They stopped on the threshold. Alex Wellfleet looked stunned, and Anne opened her large blue eyes even wider, then clapped her hands. “Oh, you are the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen,” she cried. “Aggie, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Unsure what she was supposed to have told, Aggie came forward and greeted them warmly, introducing the countess and her sisters and begging them to sit down. Lady Fanshawe looked very pleased with herself.

  Mr. Wellfleet noticed it. “I congratulate you,” he told her. “You will overset polite society.”

  Lady Fanshawe smiled back at him. “I mean to.”

  “What a lovely journey we had,” Anne Wellfleet was saying. “The weather was perfect, and we stopped at the most cunning little inn. I am so excited to be in town. It has been three seasons since we came up. Your ball is the first event we attend,” she told the countess. “I was so looking forward to it, and now, I can’t bear to wait.” She looked at the Hartington sisters again. “You will have every young man in London at your feet. Oh, I am so happy.” She clapped her hands again.

  “I hope not,” responded Thalia. “Think how hard it would be to walk.”

  Alex laughed, as did his wife after staring at Thalia for a moment. “You must be the clever one,” she said, bringing a look of chagrin to the girl’s face. “And you,” she told Euphie, “the musical one.”

  Euphie laughed and bowed slightly.

  “What a family. I do wish you had convinced John Dudley to come with us, Alex. He would have enjoyed himself, I know.”

  Her husband made some commonplace reply, and only Thalia and Mrs. Wellfleet noticed Aggie’s sudden flush. For the latter, it confirmed something she had wanted to know. Thalia was merely bewildered.

  The countess offered refreshment and began to tell their guests about the ball. They were suitably appreciative, and when that subject was exhausted, Aggie asked about the children and received a full report. She had found that she missed George and Alice very much, and she was glad to hear something of their doings.

  After half an hour, the Wellfleets took their leave, promising to come early on the night of the ball and dine. When they were gone, everyone declared that they were among the nicest couples they had ever met, to Aggie’s gratification. As the sisters walked together up the stairs to change for dinner a little later, Euphie neatly summed up everyone’s feelings. “If the ball were not the next day but one, I should positively burst!”

  The sentiment was so general that Aggie did not even reprove her for using slang.

  Twenty

  On the night before the ball, Lady Fanshawe went out alone. As she pulled on her gloves in the drawing room before go
ing down to the carriage, she told the Hartington sisters, “I am sorry, my dears, not to take you to the duchess’s musical evening, but it can’t be helped. You know I want you to wait until tomorrow for your debut; the effect will be so much greater.”

  Euphie looked at the older woman speculatively. She understood the countess’s plan for the ball, but she did not see why she was going out tonight. Lady Fanshawe was not fond enough of ton parties to go alone. “Is the duchess a particular friend of yours?” asked the girl innocently.

  “Oh, no.” Lady Fanshawe worked the final finger into her kid gloves and picked up her fan and reticule.

  “I suppose the entertainment must be something quite out of the ordinary, then,” said Euphie.

  The countess smiled, “Hardly.” And, seeing Euphie open her mouth to speak again: “If you must know, Euphie, I am going to this dreary party expressly to prepare the way for our ball tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lady Fanshawe looked away. “Well, you know I have kept our plans very dark up to now. I didn’t want the gossips nosing around and spoiling the surprise. Now it is too late for that, and our guests must know something about the three of you beforehand. Your family and your… your situation, you see. So, I am going…” She trailed off.

  “You are going to this party to gossip about us!” cried Euphie. “Lady Fanshawe!” A smile, sternly repressed, played about her mouth. It was echoed by Thalia.

  Her sharp eyes catching these signs, the countess chuckled. “You may put it that way, if you must.”

  “It seems, ah, a little devious,” murmured Aggie.

  Thalia turned to look at her older sister, and her smile faded. “Does it?”

  “Well, it isn’t,” retorted Euphie very positively. “And even if it were, other people won’t hesitate to gossip about us. We must fight back.”

  Thalia blushed painfully, reminded of Lady Agnes and the talk she had started.

  Aggie paled a little but said, “Because others behave badly does not make it right for us.”

  The countess, setting her lips, replied, “Perhaps not. And you needn’t. But I am all the more determined to go out.” She turned toward the door. “I shall let them know, with great discretion of course, that you are three of the wealthiest girls in London, and from one of the finest families. We shall see what the Lady Agneses have to say to that. Spiteful little cat!” And with this, she went out.

  Aggie made a small noise and put a hand to her throat.

  “I know,” responded Euphie. “But I really do think it is best. Lady Fanshawe can make everything clear, and then we won’t have any more worries. How comfortable it is to be rich; no one will dare talk against us.”

  Thalia laughed shortly, but Aggie continued to look upset. Had her sisters been a little less preoccupied with their own concerns, they would certainly have noticed it, and made her tell them what was wrong.

  ***

  The night of the ball was warm and fine. The Hartingtons ate their dinners in a daze and went upstairs immediately afterward to put the last touches on their toilettes. At the countess’s insistence, they all wore the same model gown, a pale pale primrose with tiny sleeves and a wide skirt trimmed with ribbons of deep gold. With it, they wore matching slippers and strands of pearls purchased for the occasion, and carried small bunches of deep yellow roses. With their russet hair and glowing eyes, this scheme was dazzling. The countess, in lavender, looked elegant and superior.

  By nine, they stood in the arched entrance of the ballroom. Lady Fanshawe had arranged the girls in a close line behind her, Aggie first. She had placed them so that an approaching guest would not see them until the last moment, and then he would see them all at once.

  “Well, my dears,” she said when they were ready, “now we shall see.” In the next moment, Jenkins announced the first arrivals, and it began.

  The next hour was everything Lady Fanshawe could have wished. Carefully primed by remarks dropped the previous evening, the ton turned out to see the three wealthy and wellborn sisters taken under the countess’s wing. One by one, they were astonished by the Hartington girls’ beauty and poise. There were murmured references to the dazzling Gunning sisters, who had taken London by storm fifty years ago. And in a very short time the combination of the Hartingtons’ names and appearance had led to the inevitable result—they were “The Three Graces” forever after.

  The Wellfleets had stationed themselves near the doorway to watch. Anne Wellfleet appeared delighted by each new reaction. A guest would come to the outer door, cross the hall as Jenkins announced him stentoriously, and walk smiling toward Lady Fanshawe. Just before he reached the countess, he would catch sight of the Hartington girls and freeze. Not even the most blasé and controlled managed to hide a pause, a blink, and a look of dazzlement. And many showed much stronger reactions. Alex Wellfleet laughed aloud at one young man, who was so overcome he couldn’t even speak.

  The arrival of Lady Agnes Crewe and her parents was a tense moment. The older couple exhibited the usual surprise, but Lady Agnes was absolutely astounded. She stared at Thalia, then at her sisters, with open mouth, and continued to look at them even after her group had walked into the ballroom beyond.

  Euphie couldn’t help giggling. “She looked exactly like a stuffed parrot,” she whispered. “We have silenced her.”

  “I daresay she’ll find her tongue,” murmured Thalia dryly, as they turned to be introduced to the next guest.

  No one else of note came in for several minutes. Then Thalia was amazed to see a tall imposing woman approaching, accompanied by a gangly blond girl. “Oh…” she gulped. Her sisters looked at her, and Lady Fanshawe said, “My dears, allow me to introduce Mrs. Elguard and her daughter Amanda.”

  Aggie and Euphie opened their eyes very wide; Thalia struggled for words, but before any of them could speak, Mrs. Elguard surged forward. Taking both Thalia’s hands, she cried, “But we need no introduction, do we, my dear Miss Hartington? We are old friends! How are you? I am so delighted to see you in London.” She cocked her head. “And so will someone else be, when I write and tell him of it.” She attempted a roguish smile.

  Thalia’s jaw dropped. And her sisters stared at Mrs. Elguard incredulously. They had heard the story of this lady’s treatment of their sister. But before they could say anything, Mrs. Elguard was sweeping her daughter on into the ballroom. “I shall look forward to a cozy chat later on,” she cried over her shoulder.

  “Cozy chat!” exclaimed Euphie. “Why, that old—”

  “Shhh!” hissed Thalia.

  “Why should I be quiet? She deserves that everyone should know how monstrous she is. She has heard about the money, of course.”

  “Perhaps so,” whispered Thalia, “but I do not wish everyone to know my part in the business. Please.”

  At this, Euphie closed her lips tight.

  Lady Fanshawe was looking about the room. “I think we may leave the door now. Nearly everyone seems to have arrived, and we must start the dancing. Come along, I will—”

  But just then Jenkins announced, “Lord Fanshawe,” and they all turned back to greet their hostess’s son.

  He held out a hand. “Good evening, Mother,” he said. “You are looking…” At this point, he saw the Hartingtons. He blinked, but his control was so good that he did no more. Rather, he smoothly finished his sentence, “…splendid tonight.”

  “Thank you, Giles. You have not met Euphie’s sisters, I think? This is Miss Aglaia Hartington, and Miss Thalia Hartington.”

  The earl bowed. “Your parents were prophets.”

  “That’s what everyone says,” replied Euphie rather rudely.

  Lord Fanshawe smiled. “I am amazed they can manage so much, after the sight of the three of you. A magnificent arrangement, Mother. I compliment you.”

  “Yes. But we are going to open the dancing, Giles, if you will excuse me.”

  “Certainly. But might I still claim the dance, Miss Hartington? Or ar
e you all engaged?”

  They were not, but Aggie looked uncertain. It was very proper that he should ask her first, of course, as the oldest. But he was much better acquainted with her sister.

  “That would be splendid, Giles,” answered the countess. “I thought to get young Barrington, since you don’t usually dance. But if you mean to tonight, you will do very well. Take Aggie along, and I will find partners for the others.”

  The earl offered his arm, and after a moment, Aggie took it and walked away with him. Lady Fanshawe shepherded the others toward a group in the corner and beckoned imperiously to first one young man, then another. They came very willingly. The countess performed introductions, sent the two couples to join Aggie, and went to speak to the orchestra.

  The music began, and the Hartington sisters opened their first ball. With their pale dresses and bright hair, they made a lovely picture as they swayed in the movements of the dance. After a while, other couples joined in, and soon the ballroom was full.

  Lord Fanshawe looked down at his partner with interest. The sisters did not really resemble each other, despite the first impression that they were alike. The eldest was probably the most beautiful, and her face showed a placidity lacking in the others. “You and your sisters have created quite a sensation tonight, Miss Hartington,” he said, looking around the ballroom. Everyone’s attention was on

  the girls.

  Aggie looked down. “It was your mother’s scheme.”

  “Did you not enjoy it?”

  She raised wide blue eyes to his face. “Oh, well, of course.”

  Lord Fanshawe began to feel a little bored. “This is your first stay in London, I understand.”