Jane Ashford

by Three Graces

  Euphie nodded. “I think she did. But it is exciting, is it not? All these invitations.”

  “It is what you have always wished for.”

  “I? What about you, Thalia, and Aggie, too? You cannot convince me that you have never longed for a little gaiety.”

  Thalia smiled. “I shan’t try. I am quite pleased, for my part.”

  “Aggie?”

  The oldest Miss Hartington started visibly and looked up. “What?”

  “You have been somewhere far away,” laughed Euphie. “I only asked if you are not pleased to be going out at last, after Aunt’s restrictions.”

  “Oh. Oh, yes, of course. It is very pleasant.”

  Her tone was so forced that Euphie stared, and Thalia watched her with real concern. There was a pause; then Thalia said, “What is it, Aggie? You have not been yourself since we came to London. Is there something wrong?”

  “What could be wrong?”

  “I don’t know. But I would like to help you. You know that.”

  “I too, of course,” said Euphie.

  “There is nothing wrong,” said Aggie firmly. “I don’t know why you say so. I suppose all this unaccustomed activity has rather tired me, that’s all.”

  The younger sisters exchanged a glance. Thalia shook her head briefly, and after a moment turned the subject to some indifferent matter. But a resolve formed in that moment, and she determined to act upon it at the first opportunity.

  At luncheon, Lady Fanshawe was full of plans. She had gone through the pile of invitations and chosen those she liked best. She now described the whirl of gaiety they represented to the sisters, while they smiled and shook their heads. She also enumerated the new gowns, slippers, gloves, and other wardrobe items they would need and suggested an immediate expedition to Bond Street.

  “What about your rest?” asked Euphie.

  “I am not the least tired,” retorted her ladyship. “I never sleep in any case, you know, I simply lie down and read a bit. But today there are more important things to do. We must order you all new ball gowns; it will take some time to make them.”

  “But we just had new dresses for last night,” protested Thalia, who hated fittings.

  “You cannot wear those again! What are you thinking of?”

  Thalia begged pardon with a rueful smile, and it was agreed that they would go out after their meal. At that moment the dining room door swung open and Jenkins came in, followed by two of the footmen. All three bore as many bouquets as they could carry, and the sight was astonishing. “These began to arrive half an hour ago, my lady,” said the butler. “I have not had a moment to bring them in until now.” As he finished, there was a ring at the front door, and he sighed. “Excuse me.” Still carrying the flowers, he turned and went out. The footmen remained, rigid and uneasy.

  Euphie burst out laughing. “What are they all for?”

  “Why, for you, goose,” answered Lady Fanshawe. “And your sisters. The gentlemen you met last night are expressing their admiration.”

  This was signal enough for a descent on the footmen. The sisters found the cards among the flowers and began to open and read them. After a moment, Jenkins returned with yet another bunch added to his load, and they investigated these as well.

  “Twelve!” exclaimed the countess when they had been counted. “Wonderful. Though not in the least odd. I expected as much.”

  “But I am the winner!” cried Euphie. “Six are mine, four are for Thalia, and Aggie has only two. You must try harder, Aggie.”

  The oldest girl shrugged good-naturedly. “You are welcome to my share.”

  “And mine,” agreed Thalia. “These roses are from Mr. Charles Dunne, whom I recall as one of the stupidest young men I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. He talked of horses all through our dance. And not particularly knowledgeably, either.”

  “Well, I am pleased,” said Euphie. “You are just jealous.”

  This teasing accusation brought her sisters down upon her with laughing denials, and before the uproar died away, Jenkins had returned with yet another bouquet. This one was not as large as some of the others, but it was by far the most beautiful, composed of white roses and carnations among sprigs of fern and dark leaves.

  “Oh,” breathed Euphie, reaching for the card.

  “Shall it be seven?” teased Thalia.

  “No,” answered her sister in a queer voice. “This one is to all of us. It is from Lord Fanshawe.”

  “Giles?” replied the countess. “How charming of him.”

  Euphie nodded, though some of her gaiety seemed to have evaporated. She handed the card round so that the others might see the general congratulation written on it.

  “Jenkins can put these in water,” said Lady Fanshawe then. “I don’t know where we will find room for them all. But we must go if we are to do any shopping today. Come, get your hats.” And the four ladies filed out of the room and up the stairs.

  Their shopping was very gay, but it was also tiring, and Lady Fanshawe went straight to her room to rest when they returned. Euphie took her purchases to her bedchamber to look at them all again, and Aggie went to the breakfast room, to write letters, she said.

  Thalia didn’t believe her. But as the excuse left her alone, she didn’t question it. Rather, as soon as everyone else had gone, she picked up her hat once more and went into the hall. Jenkins was still there, and she went up to him. “I understand one can hire carriages to take one through the city,” she said.

  He looked surprised. “Yes, miss. But if you wish to go out, I can send round to the stables. Her ladyship’s barouche will hardly be—”

  “No, no. I am going only a short distance, to visit the Wellfleets, who were here last night. So if you could find me…”

  “A hackney, miss,” finished Jenkins.

  Thalia nodded.

  “I’ll send Tom out for one.” He summoned one of the footmen and did so. “But the barouche would be more suitable.”

  “No. You see…” Thalia struggled to find a plausible explanation. “The Wellfleets and I are preparing a surprise for my sister; it is a secret between us. So I do not want everyone to know. In fact, Jenkins, I was going to ask you not to mention that I have gone out or where. Unless Lady Fanshawe should ask you, of course.”

  Jenkins eyed her sternly, then relented. “Yes, miss. Unless her ladyship should ask.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tom returned with a hackney and helped Thalia into it. As she sat back in the vehicle, she wondered if she were doing the right thing. But the memory of Aggie’s uncharacteristic despondence made her shake her head. Something had to be done.

  The Wellfleets’ townhouse was not far away, and Thalia was fortunate in finding them at home. She was taken up to the drawing room at once and greeted effusively by Anne Wellfleet.

  “Miss Hartington! How lovely to see you. But, are you all alone?”

  Thalia nodded. “I wanted to speak to you about something.”

  At this, her husband rose. “I have some business to see to.”

  Thalia looked uncomfortable, but his wife said, “Yes, dear, do run along.” Neither of them seemed the least put out, which made their visitor feel better. “Now,” continued Anne Wellfleet when the door had closed behind him, “let us sit down and be comfortable.”

  They did so. There was a short awkward pause.

  “I don’t know quite how to begin,” said Thalia then. “I’ve come to speak to you about a rather delicate matter, and I don’t know…”

  “Perhaps I can help. Is it about Aggie?”

  Thalia stared at her.

  “Well, it was not so hard to guess.”

  “You’ve seen, then, that she is not… oh, not herself. Since I first went home, I have noticed it. Something is wrong, but she won’t tell me what.”

  Mrs. Wellfleet nodded. “I thought so too. I am glad to have your opinion on the matter. And I think I know the problem.”

  Thalia leaned forward eagerly
. “What is it? I do so long to help.”

  The older woman nodded again and looked thoughtful. She seemed to be considering how best to frame her explanation. “Did Aggie mention a young man named John Dudley to you?” she asked finally.

  “Certainly. We were all struck by the coincidence of their meeting. We knew him when we were very small, you know.”

  “Yes. She said nothing else about him?”

  “No. Only that they sometimes met at your house and that he was a pleasant man.” She smiled. “Greatly improved, in fact, since his grubby schoolboy days.”

  Anne smiled back. “Indeed. Well, in my opinion, he is the problem.”

  “John Dudley?”

  “Yes. Aggie spent far more time with him than she told you. I was certain he was about to make her an offer, and she to accept him. And then, something happened. I don’t know what. And all was at an end. Aggie went away, and John will say nothing about it.” Her pretty lips pouted. “I tried to make him, but Alex said I mustn’t.”

  Thalia sat back, pensive. “You think Aggie is in love with John Dudley?” The notion was so odd that she needed a moment to take it in.

  “I do. And that there is some obstacle. The thing I can’t see is what. They seem perfect for one another.”

  “Tell me all about him,” commanded Thalia.

  Anne Wellfleet thought for a moment, then embarked on a description of John Dudley’s character. Thalia was surprised at the detail and depth. She had more or less dismissed Mrs. Wellfleet as a pretty widgeon, but she saw now that her understanding of people was significant.

  “I see,” said Thalia when she finished. “And you think they were getting on very well? No quarrels or anything like that?”

  “None.”

  “Hmm. Let me think.” She went back over all she had been told, and tried to fit it with her observations of her sister. “You say you expected him to offer for Aggie on the night of your party?”

  “Yes. His manner was unmistakable.”

  “And then she got the letter from Mr. Gaines?”

  “Yes.”

  Thalia nodded. “I think I see. John Dudley sounds to me like the sort of man who would draw back from Aggie’s sudden wealth.”

  “You mean if he had asked beforehand…”

  “Then all would have been well. But he would not offer after she heard about the money, for fear of being thought a fortune hunter.”

  Mrs. Wellfleet considered this. “It could be, though John seems too sensible for such ridiculous scruples.” She frowned. “I wonder if he also felt that Aggie should have a chance to try her riches. Perhaps he thought she would feel differently about things once she did.”

  Thalia shrugged. “Perhaps. Both reasons seem perfectly doltish to me.”

  “Yes”—Anne smiled—“but so like a man.”

  The younger girl smiled back. “The question is, what are we to do?”

  “Oh, we must get John to town. If we can only throw them together again, all will be well, I think.”

  “How can we?”

  “Of that, I’m not yet sure. I must think. Alex might be able to help.”

  “Would he?”

  Anne smiled. “Oh, yes, if I ask him nicely. Leave that to me.”

  Thalia nodded. “Yes. I can’t write him. So I shall count on you to produce Mr. Dudley. Meanwhile, I shall work on Aggie.”

  Their eyes met, and both smiled. “We shall bring it off,” said Mrs. Wellfleet.

  Thalia nodded once, decisively, and rose. “I must get back before someone notices I am gone. Thank you.”

  The other spread her hands. “Thank you. I am flattered by your confidence. I will set to work immediately.”

  Thalia smiled and took her leave, going home the way she had come. On the way, she thought of her sister and her trouble. Hard as it would be to lose Aggie to marriage, it was far harder to watch her unhappiness without trying to remedy it.

  She got back to Lady Fanshawe’s at four and hurried to the stairs. She wanted to take off her hat and tidy herself for tea before anyone commented on her absence. But Jenkins, who had opened the door for her, stopped her halfway up. “Oh, Miss Thalia, a letter arrived for you while you were out. Hand-delivered.” He held out an envelope.

  She took it and ripped it open as she continued up the stairs. It was only one sheet, a few lines of writing. When she had read them, she stopped stock-still on the landing. James Elguard had arrived in London.

  Twenty-two

  Lady Fanshawe’s party was to go to Almack’s for the first time that evening, and the girls met in the drawing room at eight thirty to wait for her. They were not dressed alike tonight, despite the countess’s earnest request, but they wore similar gowns of floating muslin, Aggie’s blue, Thalia’s peach, and Euphie’s pale green. And they looked very fresh and lovely as they stood together near the fireplace.

  They talked quietly with one another until the drawing-room door was pushed open and Brutus came in, followed closely by Juvenal and Nero. Euphie walked over and picked up the latter. “How they are growing,” she said. “They are hardly kittens any longer.”

  Thalia, coming over to examine Juvenal, agreed. “What do they do with themselves all day? Since Pug has gone, I scarcely see any of the cats about.”

  “I think they stay belowstairs. Cook told me that Brutus caught a mouse last week. She is happy to have them there.” Euphie held up her white cat and looked into his eyes. “Have you caught a mouse also, Nero, or are you too lazy?”

  Nero stared at her for a moment, then began to squirm to be let down. Laughing, Euphie set him on the floor. “They have become so selfish that they care nothing for us anymore.”

  “Of course they do!” snapped Aggie from across the room. She had not moved since the cats came in. Both her sisters turned to look at her in surprise, and she flushed.

  “Whatever is the matter?” asked Euphie.

  “Nothing, nothing. I have the headache.”

  Euphie started to speak again, but Thalia squeezed her arm warningly, and she subsided. In the next moment, the countess came down, the carriage was called for, and they were on their way.

  They walked up the steps of Almack’s Assembly Rooms just before nine, well before the doors would close to careless latecomers. When they entered the ballroom, already thickly populated with members of the ton, their reception was flattering. A number of people greeted them, and before they had gone three steps into the room, they had all been solicited for the set then forming. As they moved out onto the floor, it was obvious that notice was being taken and that it was generally approving. Whatever disappointed mothers of less entrancing girls might say, society in general had taken the sisters to its heart.

  For the second dance, their choice was even wider. At least two young men approached each sister, begging her to choose him as partner. And Euphie laughingly hesitated among four. But the third set was a waltz, and they had to stand back and await the approval of one of Almack’s patronesses before they could join it, so they walked toward Lady Fanshawe’s seat together.

  “Isn’t it splendid!” said Euphie as they went. “Oh, I could dance forever. I hope they will approve us right away.”

  As if she had been overheard, Euphie was stopped just then by Lady Jersey. “You are not dancing, Miss Hartington? May I present you with a desirable partner for the waltz?” She moved aside, revealing Lord Fanshawe standing behind her. “I think you are already acquainted, are you not?” Almack’s most sprightly patroness smiled mischievously.

  “Y-yes,” replied Euphie. “Ah, thank you.”

  Lord Fanshawe offered his arm, and she took it to walk out onto the floor.

  “Now I must see about you two,” continued Lady Jersey. “Is there anyone you would particularly like for the waltz?”

  “No, thank you,”’ blurted Aggie. “I… I must speak to Lady Fanshawe.”

  She rushed off, Lady Jersey watching her curiously.

  “My sister has the headache,” sa
id Thalia. “She isn’t feeling at all the thing.”

  “No?” The lady turned her sharp eyes on Thalia.

  “No. I should go to her.”

  “Just as you like, my dear.” And she watched again as Thalia self-consciously followed Aggie to the side of the room.

  “I’m sorry,” said Aggie in a strangled voice when her sister reached her. “I did not want to dance.”

  “It doesn’t matter. But, Aggie…”

  “Yes, I know. I will tell you, but not now, please.”

  Thalia looked at her. “All right.”

  “I am going to sit with Lady Fanshawe. I am fine. Just let me be.”

  Thalia nodded, and Aggie walked across to the countess, looking despondent.

  “I have written the letter,” said a voice behind her.

  Thalia turned quickly to find Anne Wellfleet. “Have you? Good.”

  “Yes, I think it is. Poor Aggie.”

  “She cares for none of this.”

  “I know. It is strange.”

  Thalia shrugged.

  “Perhaps you don’t care for it yourself?” responded the other.

  “It is interesting, often amusing, but I think only Euphie really loves it. I should much prefer…”

  “Yes?” asked Mrs. Wellfleet when she broke off. “What should you prefer?”

  But Thalia found she couldn’t speak. She had just seen the Elguard family enter the room, Mrs. Elguard and Amanda escorted by James.

  On the dance floor, Euphie was savoring the novel experience of whirling about in a man’s arms. She had practiced the waltz with her sisters, but this was the first time she had tried it in public. She found she liked it very much, once she was certain that she would not make a mistake. The earl was a skilled dancer, and she had no trouble following his steps.

  For his part, he watched her passage from nervousness to exhilaration with amusement. When he saw that she was completely at ease, he said, “You waltz very well, Miss Hartington.”

  “I can’t think why,” she answered. “My aunt was scandalized by the dance and always forbade us to learn. We had to try it on the sly, and I never had proper lessons.” Suddenly suspicious, she looked up at him. “But perhaps you were mocking me, sir?”