by Three Graces
“Yes, we lived in the country for most of our lives.”
“Do you like the city?”
“I, ah, hardly know. But I think I prefer the country.”
“Why is that?”
“Oh, well, it is so much more, ah, pleasant.”
Lord Fanshawe sighed and began to wish the set would end.
When at last it did, his mother was besieged by young men begging for introductions to her charges. She looked very pleased with herself as she selected three and presented them. And this scene was repeated each time the dancing ended; clearly the Hartington sisters had made a hit.
For the set before supper, the countess chose carefully. Aggie was paired with a very eligible peer and Thalia with an extremely wealthy young man who had no title but a charming personality. She was just looking for a suitable partner for Euphie when she saw her son approach the youngest sister and claim her hand. “That’s all right, then,” she murmured to herself, and went to see about the buffet.
“What a splendid party,” said Euphie as they started to dance. “I always knew I should be fond of balls.”
“Did you?” replied the earl, smiling.
“Oh, yes. Even when we were still at home with my aunt, I was sure of it. And I was right. I am so happy I could shout.”
“Do,” he urged.
“Oh, no. I mean to behave with the strictest propriety, so that those forbidding ladies will give us vouchers for Almack’s and everyone will think the Hartington girls ‘unexceptionable, my dear.’”
She said these last words in such a convincing and comic imitation of one of the more starched-up society dames that Lord Fanshawe laughed outright. “You are in high spirits,” he said. “I have not seen you so animated before.”
“Of course I am. How often does a girl attend her first ball? But don’t tell anyone.”
“Tell?”
“That I am excited. One is supposed to be very bored and take everything for granted, isn’t one?”
He laughed again. “Who told you so?”
“Oh, no one. It is just the impression I get from some of the modish ladies. When your aunt introduced us to Princess Lieven and Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, I thought they would nod off in boredom.”
He looked around to where these haughtiest patronesses of Almack’s sat and then turned back to answer Euphie’s smile. “I see.”
“So we must try to seem quite drowsy too, I daresay.” She assumed a comical expression of utter boredom. “I told Aggie and Thalia so.”
“And what did they say?”
“Oh, Aggie said I was ridiculous, of course. She is so wonderfully proper. And Thalia quoted Pope.”
“Alexander Pope?”
“Yes. She is always quoting. I forget what it was. Something about the fickleness of fashion.”
“She is your learned sister, I remember.”
Euphie nodded happily. She was suddenly conscious of an even greater feeling of contentment than that engendered by the ball. She realized then that this was the first time she had chatted with Lord Fanshawe in weeks.
“Daunting.”
The girl looked surprised. “She isn’t at all. How can you say so when you have hardly spoken to her?”
“I beg pardon.” Lord Fanshawe watched her face for a moment. “You were glad to see your sisters, weren’t you? You are much happier and livelier now that they have come.”
“Of course I am glad. We have always been together. And no one laughs with me as they do.”
He nodded to himself.
The music ended, and the dancers slowly moved toward the supper room. Euphie urged the earl toward her sisters and their partners. “Let us all eat together,” she said. He agreed.
Just as the group was passing under the archway that led to the dining room, a slight dark girl came up to them hesitantly. “Miss Hartington…” she began.
“Mary Deming!” exclaimed Thalia. “How glad I am to see you. Euphie told me you were in town, and I looked for you earlier.”
“W-we were late. And then you were so busy dancing that I… that is, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Nonsense. Come and have supper with us. We must have a cozy talk.”
“Oh. I… I don’t know.” Mary looked toward where her mother sat.
“Is your partner waiting for you?”
“No.” The younger girl flushed. “I haven’t one.”
Thalia frowned, then took her arm. “Come on, then. We’ll find a vacant table.”
Supper was a jolly meal. Thalia and Euphie sparkled in their different ways, while Aggie watched with a smile and an occasional supporting word. After a while, even Mary Deming relaxed and joined the conversation. The two older girls’ partners were obviously entranced, and Lord Fanshawe looked extremely entertained. He looked from one lovely face to the other.
When the meal was over and the rest had gone back to dancing, Thalia took Mary aside. “Let us find a vacant sofa and have a good talk,” she said. “It seems so long since I saw you, though it has been only a few weeks.”
“I don’t want to keep you from dancing,” said Mary.
“Nonsense.” They went back into the ballroom and sat down. “Now, tell me how you are and how you like London,” Thalia went on. “Do you find the season exciting?”
Mary sighed. “I fear I find it more daunting. I can’t seem to get the knack of chatting with strangers.”
The older girl looked sympathetic. “But surely you know some people. Some of your friends must be coming out this year also. Euphie said she met you at, ah, the Warringtons’, was it?”
Mary blushed bright red.
“Euphie told me what occurred,” Thalia added quickly. “You needn’t worry about sparing me.”
“Agnes Crewe is horrid,” responded Mary.
“Undoubtedly. But do you know the Warringtons?”
Surprisingly, Mary’s flush deepened as she nodded. “Yes, our families have been acquainted forever.”
“So you know the children. There are a daughter and a son, I think.”
“Y-yes. And another boy still at school. Charlotte Warrington is my age. She is coming out this season. And… and Alan is two years older.”
She struggled so as she said this that Thalia was puzzled. “Don’t you like them?”
“Oh, yes! That is, Charlotte and I have always gotten along well, and… and…”
Thalia dimpled. “And you and Alan Warrington?”
Impossibly, Mary became redder still.
“Aha! I see.”
“I… I don’t know what you mean. I… of course, I have known Alan since we were children, but…”
“Indeed. I understand you.”
“You don’t. There is nothing… he doesn’t…”
“What is this, an old school gathering?” said a cool voice beside them. The two girls looked up to find Lady Agnes Crewe standing there. “How charming.”
“Hello, Lady Agnes,” said Thalia without enthusiasm. Mary murmured something unintelligible.
The blond eyed her measuringly. “I suppose you are very pleased with yourself. You have managed very well indeed. No doubt you’ll get what you want now.” She smiled thinly. “If you still want it, of course.”
“What I want?” Thalia had some idea what she meant, but she refused to understand.
“Well, Mrs. Elguard is telling everyone what friends you and her son are. The inference is obvious. But will a ‘competence’ look as tempting now, I wonder?”
Mary gasped audibly. “How… how dare…?”
Lady Agnes laughed. “Dare? You’d be surprised. We aren’t all quiet little mice, you know, Mary. Ask Alan.” And with this she turned and walked away.
“Alan,” echoed Mary automatically. She swallowed and stared at the floor.
Thalia looked at her. She was reluctant to speak, yet she wanted to find out more about this situation. “Does Lady Agnes know Alan Warrington, then?”
Mary laughed shortly. “Know him?” She
laughed again, but she did not sound amused.
Thalia opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. She understood enough, and she could get more information without upsetting Mary further. But at that moment, she made a vow. If she could do anything for Mary in this case, she would. There was a short pause; then Thalia said, “May I meet your mother, Mary? You promised me an introduction, you know.”
The younger girl brightened at once. “Oh, yes. She would like it above all things. I have told her about you.” She rose. “Come.”
They walked across the floor toward a group of older ladies opposite. On the way, they passed Aggie and the Wellfleets taking a brief rest from the dancing. Thalia smiled and nodded.
“I can’t take it in,” said Anne Wellfleet. “How can you all be so beautiful and talented? It doesn’t seem fair.”
Aggie smiled. “I am not talented.”
“Nonsense. Of course you are. You are the most soothing person imaginable. Your talent is making people feel happy and at ease.”
Aggie looked a little surprised.
“Doesn’t she, Alex?” said Mrs. Wellfleet.
Her husband merely smiled.
“Darling Alex.” Anne turned back to the ballroom. “And there is your youngest sister dancing with Lord Cranleigh. She is quite charming, too. Very lively.”
Looking at Euphie, Aggie smiled and nodded.
Anne Wellfleet, watching her face, looked concerned. “How do you like London, Aggie? Is it all you hoped for?”
“Hoped for? Oh, yes, I suppose so.”
At an imperceptible signal from his wife, Alex Wellfleet excused himself to speak to a friend. When he was gone, Anne continued, “Of course, you didn’t hope for very much, did you? You didn’t want to come at first.”
Aggie looked at the floor and made an uneasy movement.
“But now that you are here”—Anne indicated the ballroom—“you are having a good time?”
The other followed her gesture, “Of course,” she replied.
There was a short pause; then Mrs. Wellfleet said, “We saw John Dudley just before we came to town. He is very involved with a new drainage project and talked of nothing else.”
“Really? He is, ah, very taken up with such things.” The tone of Aggie’s response was clearly unnatural, though she tried very hard to sound as usual.
“He always has been. But for some reason, I felt his heart was not in it this time.” Anne Wellfleet continued to watch her companion closely. She already knew what she thought, but she wanted a bit more confirmation before she did anything about it.
Aggie had nothing to say to this. And she could not entirely hide a look of distress.
With a small nod, the other woman changed the subject, and a bit later Aggie went off to dance once again. Anne Wellfleet remained where she was, looking after her, then turned to find her husband.
The sisters danced and talked with a host of new acquaintances, both male and female. Toward the end of the evening, they stood with a group of young people near the doorway, and laughter rang across the ballroom. A tall rangy blond girl approached them and stopped uncertainly beside Thalia. She looked acutely uncomfortable and seemed unable to summon the resolution to speak. Finally Thalia said, “Did you want me?”
The other girl nodded. “Yes. I beg your pardon, but my mother wishes to speak to you.” Seeing Thalia’s surprise, she added, “I am Amanda Elguard, you know.”
With this Thalia recognized her. This was the girl who had come in with James Elguard’s mother. She sighed.
Hearing this, Miss Elguard stiffened. “You needn’t, of course. I told her so.”
Thalia turned to look at her more closely. She couldn’t decide whether the other girl was embarrassed or angry. “No, I’ll come.” She followed Miss Elguard over to a sofa by the wall and sat down beside her mother. The daughter at once left them alone.
“How delightful this is,” began Mrs. Elguard. “Now we can have a proper chat. I haven’t been able to get near you all evening, too many eager young men.” She smiled.
Thalia looked at her with a mixture of puzzlement and amazement. She could not help thinking of the last time they had faced one another and how different that had been.
“I think I can promise that James will be among them next week,” the lady was continuing. “He was very disappointed when you left Bath so suddenly, you know.” She shook a finger at Thalia while the girl wondered at her effrontery.
“He may wish to attend to his studies,” she replied discouragingly.
“His studies? Oh, no!”
Thalia surveyed Mrs. Elguard. Her complete change of manner was too marked to go without comment. “I take it you no longer object to my friendship with your son?” she said.
“My dear Miss Hartington, I was just about to apologize for that terrible misunderstanding. I admit to allowing myself to be swayed by malicious gossip. I regret it immensely. I beg you will forgive me.”
Her simpering expression was almost more than Thalia could bear, but she was too polite to say what she really thought. “Of course,” she choked out.
“You are kind, but I knew you would be. And now we are all in London and shall see each other constantly, I do so hope that you and Amanda may become friends.”
Thalia swallowed. She turned to look about the room, then said, “Oh, I believe Lady Fanshawe is looking for me. You will excuse me, Mrs. Elguard?” And without waiting for an answer, she got up and escaped.
Soon after this, guests began to take their leave, as it was by now quite late. In half an hour, only the sisters and Lady Fanshawe remained in the ballroom.
“Well, my dears,” said the latter, “I am half-dead with fatigue, but what a triumph we have had!”
“It was great fun,” agreed Euphie, and her sisters nodded.
“And it was only the beginning, mark my words. But now, we must go to bed. Come along.”
Together, the four women walked out and up the stairs. As they separated, Lady Fanshawe repeated, “A positive triumph,” and the girls walked on, smiling at one another.
Twenty-one
The following morning was pleasantly spent exchanging memories of the ball. The Hartington sisters gathered in the drawing room after breakfast for one of their customary talks, each telling whom she had met and what they had said. “How cozy this is,” exclaimed Euphie after a while. “Just like we used to do at home. I wondered, you know, if we should ever be together in this way again.” She sighed happily.
Thalia nodded. “Yes. I am very grateful to be here.”
“I should think so. That horrid school! And what are we to do about Lady Agnes Crewe?”
“Do about her?” Aggie turned puzzled eyes to her youngest sister. “What can you mean, Euphie?”
Euphie looked mischievous. “Well, you know, she has been so rude and awful, we must do something.”
“Nonsense. We shall simply ignore her. Shan’t we, Thalia?”
“I suppose we should, but let me tell you something else.” She explained her suspicions about Mary Deming. “I think she likes this Alan Warrington very much. And perhaps, who knows, he likes her too. But Lady Agnes is clearly interfering in the affair. Out of spite, I imagine.”
“She may like him also,” offered Aggie.
“So she may.” Thalia grimaced. “But I find I care very little whether she does or not.”
Euphie grinned. “So we shall cut out Lady Agnes and make sure that Mary Deming gets a chance at this Warrington. Splendid, Thalia!”
The two younger girls exchanged a glance of guilty glee.
“I don’t know,” answered Aggie slowly. “It doesn’t seem quite right to push in. I mean, Mr. Warrington may—”
“If he is so stupid as to prefer Lady Agnes to Mary Deming,” snapped Euphie, “then he needs our help. We cannot allow him to make such a mistake.”
Thalia smiled, but she added, “There is something in that, Aggie.”
The oldest girl looked from one to the other,
a reluctant smile dawning on her lips. Finally, her deep blue eyes twinkled. “But how will you manage this miracle? From what you have told me, Mary Deming is almost too shy to speak to the man.”
Two pairs of sparkling green eyes met hers. “That is what we must see,” said Thalia. “We require a plan.”
“Ha,” said Euphie. “You will think of something first-rate.”
“I hope so. As yet, I have not done so.”
“You always do, Thalia.”
Her sister’s amusement at this complacent certainty was punctuated by the entrance of Lady Fanshawe. “Girls!” she exclaimed as she walked in. “Only look at this!” She held out a double handful of envelopes. “Already! Only the day after our ball.”
“What is it?” asked Euphie.
“They, my dear. They are invitations, of course. You have been asked to every important event of the season. And vouchers for Almack’s! By the very next mail. I told you it was a triumph.”
The sisters all laughed. “We owe it to you, Lady Fanshawe,” replied Thalia. “You arranged the whole.”
“I began it, yes. But you three carried it off. My arrangements would have been nothing without your efforts. And now, we shan’t be home one evening in ten, I suppose. Just look. A rout party, a Venetian breakfast, another ball, two musical evenings, a party for Vauxhall…”
“I don’t even know what most of those are!” wailed Euphie.
“You will, my dear. You will.”
Thalia cast a bright glance at her sister and said, “I hope you won’t be completely exhausted by all this, Lady Fanshawe. I know you don’t care to go out much.”
Euphie, who had told her sisters all about her former employer, looked sharply at her sister, then grinned.
“Nonsense,” answered the countess. She avoided their eyes, turning back toward the door and adding, “I must go and look through these to see which to accept. I merely wanted to show you.” And with this, she was gone again.
Euphie burst out laughing. “Wicked, Thalia! You shouldn’t tease her so. She has been so kind to us.”
“Of course she has. And I am immensely grateful. I didn’t mean anything by it. And she knew it, too.”
