“What did she do it for, hey? Did you frighten her off?”
Richard grinned. “I tried, but she wasn’t to be frightened. She found a stray cleric and decided to throw in her lot with him when matters finally came to a head. She’ll no doubt find him more to her taste. Easier to control.”
“How angry was your father?”
“Furious.” Richard was the only person not afraid of his father’s violent temper. “But then he met Rose, and he came to see it was all for the best.”
“Met them, have you?” Lord Thwaite cast me a quizzical glance that almost made me laugh. As it was, he raised a smile and I decided I liked him. He didn’t make me feel in the least shy or awkward, despite the fact that I had never met him before and I disliked meeting strangers. His dark, indolent good looks and his voice carved out of velvet would make him a favourite with the ladies, and I hoped Gervase had been right when he’d said Freddy would cut Richard out with Eustacia Terry.
“I paid them a short visit after Christmas. I was still in mourning then, so I couldn’t stay too long.”
“Rum lot, don’t you think, Miss Golightly? I’m allowed to say because I’m a distant cousin, so Lady Southwood is by the way of being my aunt.”
I didn’t want to give my opinion of the haughty Southwoods. “I’ve met rummer. The previous Earls of Hareton were the strangest people I ever met.”
“Ye-es.” Lord Thwaite raised his glass and took a thoughtful sip. “Strang told me something about that. Of course, it must have had its advantages, a big, empty house like that. Wish I could have the same advantage when I start my courting.”
I blushed, but Richard smiled, perhaps at the memory of that small nursemaid’s room and what we did there. “You’re not married, my lord?” I managed, trying to turn the conversation. He was too near the mark for my comfort.
“No,” he said triumphantly. “Although I turned thirty last week, and my mother’s begun to increase her hints. Don’t think I’ll be able to hold off much longer though, now Strang’s made his arrangements. Mind, if I had met you before Strang, ma’am, I might well have tried to cut him out.”
I smiled, easy with his compliment. I didn’t take Lord Thwaite seriously, but I liked him and I felt comfortable with him. I realised that could be a devastating weapon in the hands of the right man, that ability to put people at their ease.
“Can you introduce us to any of the lovelies across the room, Strang?” one of the other gentlemen asked.
“Look at them, George, and you’re a dead man,” the lady next to him said. “How do you do, ma’am? I’m this reprobate’s wife, Caroline Fleming.”
I curtseyed. She looked to be about the same age as me, and she had a pleasant, open countenance.
I had been so used to reading about these people in the popular press that I had looked on them as some sort of supra beings, above ordinary living. When I looked at them now, I could believe they suffered from the same trials and tribulations as the rest of us. I felt at home, a strange feeling, surprising to me. I’d never felt at home in company before.
Lady Fleming admired my diamonds, although she wore a beautiful parure of emeralds herself. “I believe they’re a family treasure. Richard gave them to me a few weeks early. He knows I spent my youth in these rooms, and he wanted them all to see me now.”
“Oh I know that feeling,” Lady Fleming exclaimed. “Sitting out dance after dance as the young men go after the latest sensational beauty. Who was your particular bugbear?”
“The young lady across the room in green,” I said, without turning around.
She peered over my shoulder. “I see her.”
“I see her too.” Richard excused himself and crossed the room to greet Miss Terry and her friends.
Lady Fleming watched him with curiosity. “What is he up to?”
Although I had never met her before, I liked her. “I made the mistake of telling Richard she had afforded me several slights in the past.”
Lord Thwaite saw the implications first, and let out a crack of laughter. “Well it’s clear he’s not attracted to her—he never went in for that sort of insipid beauty. Only peerless diamonds for Strang. Setting her up for a fall, is he?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” I confessed.
Lord Thwaite watched Richard amuse the local girls on the other side of the room. “It’s hard to deflect Strang from his purpose, once he’s made his mind up to it. I remember when he took a bet that he could paint a red cross on every house in St. James’ Square in ten minutes. He did it, too. Mind you, we were all devilish drunk at the time. George here tried to stop him, and almost got knifed for his pains, but it was fine to see when he finally took the pot of paint from behind the charley’s box. He can move fast when he wants to, can Strang.”
I imagined Richard would take it on, not for the bet, but for the dare. Lord Thwaite seemed an easy sort of man, so different to Richard and yet so much a part of his world. He would be indifferent to the sort of gossip that had crippled me for so many years and while I despised myself for my social cowardice, I still felt that tension every time I entered a room containing strangers. I would have to work hard to overcome that particular aspect. It would look like a lack of breeding to the ton.
Richard sauntered back across the floor towards us, and saw my amused expression.
“Blackening my reputation, Freddy?” He shot his lordship a look of diverted malice.
“Who, me?” his lordship said, the picture of hurt innocence. “Enhancing it, more like. Remember St. James’ Square?”
Richard groaned and put his hand to his eyes. “I was drunk.”
“I know,” came the reply. “I was there.”
I turned to Richard, struck by a sudden realisation. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”
“You might well have done, ma’am, without actually knowing it,” Lord Thwaite told me. “You can’t tell from his manner, except perhaps a look about the eye. More his behaviour. His recklessness is a joy to behold.”
“Were you drunk when you asked me to marry you?” I demanded of him, smiling.
“Never more sober.” He took my hand and placed it on his arm. “I’m sorry but I’m afraid I must take you away. There are some people you should meet.”
We bowed to Lord Thwaite and the Flemings, and he bore me away to some more sedate strangers, more of his circle, and I was duly introduced. These people were older, and Richard watched me curtsey and saw them smile in welcome. We talked about the wedding, the weather and the beauties of Exeter, then the orchestra struck up, and he led me on to the floor for the first minuet, the formal opening to the proceedings. The first dance was always the minuet, and classed as such, while the ones that followed, the lesser minuets, were not as formal. I had never taken the floor for that first dance before and I quelled my trembling muscles in an effort to do this properly.
He danced beautifully, gracefully, but I was forced to concentrate. His attempts at conversation met with monosyllabic responses while I focused on my steps and my bearing for this supremely elegant dance of courtship. I met his gaze and he smiled reassuringly when he recognised my plight, but after that he helped me all he could, and didn’t talk too much. I needed all my concentration to get me through it.
“I thought you would be a natural dancer,” he commented, when the dance mercifully finished. “I shall make you practise.”
“I spent too long holding up the wall.” I flicked my fan open and used it to cover my blushes at having to confess this to him.
“You need not fear that any longer.” He led me off the floor, found us some wine and we crossed the room to the group of girls who stood by the fire.
“I promised to introduce these charming ladies to Lord Thwaite. He has asked if he might meet them.” He lifted a questioning brow to where Mr. and Mrs. Terry sat within earshot.
Mrs. Terry nodded graciously. “Take care of her.”
“Ladies?” Richard bowed.
Eustac
ia’s attention was on my neck, not my face, and her eyes widened. “What a beautiful necklace.”
“One of the family treasures,” Richard replied lightly. “My mother had them reset when she was Lady Strang, but the larger diamonds were always supposed to have been presented to an ancestor by Queen Elizabeth. He must have performed some signal service for her, but we’ve never been sure what it was.”
“Can’t you guess?” I asked.
He gave me a mock frown. “You shouldn’t impugn the reputation of the Virgin Queen, madam.” Miss Terry looked suitably disapproving.
“Not all virgins are virgins,” I reminded him cruelly and was rewarded by a crack of laughter.
“True enough.”
Miss Terry exchanged a speaking glance with her friends and then turned back to Richard, spread her fan, looked at him over its rim, and then lowered it again. He watched her appreciatively. “Your skills are developing well, ma’am.”
“Thank you, sir. Won’t you introduce us to your friends?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied.
He crossed the room, bearing a lady on each arm, Miss Terry and her friend Miss Sturman. Behind his back, Miss Terry stared over her shoulder at me with a triumphant expression, as though she had won him, could always win anyone she wanted from me. But she had lost the power to hurt me, and I followed them with a serene expression and a black thought.
Introductions were made, and Richard stood back with me, taking no part in the ensuing conversation. Miss Terry said, “La, my lord,” once, and I watched Lord Thwaite’s quick expression of blank astonishment. He glanced over the lady’s head at Richard, his eyes full of delighted amusement.
Then Miss Terry dared to try out her new techniques with the fan that Richard had taught her. At her first pass Lord Thwaite’s eyes widened. Mistaking it for admiration, she tried another.
Lord Thwaite managed a quavering, “Goodness!” before he regained his composure and bowed low. I thought I saw his shoulders shake, but I couldn’t be sure. “Well after that, I have to ask you if you could spare me a dance.” Eustacia smiled, lowered her eyes, and said she would be glad to. He led her off, and left the company nonplussed.
Lady Fleming confronted Richard. “Did you teach her that?”
Richard turned his innocent blue gaze to her. “What would that be?”
“You know quite well what.” Lady Fleming smiled. “She’ll make a lot of conquests with that trick.” Amusement brimmed over in her voice. Then she addressed me. “Was she very cruel to you?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “I didn’t take, you see. My sister was a sensation when she came out, and I’m afraid I was overlooked after that.”
“You didn’t take?” Lady Fleming repeated with incredulity, and then looked from me to Richard and back again. “You were lucky,” she told him.
“I know it,” he replied calmly.
“I’ve seen your sister,” she said. “Mr. Kerre introduced us. She is lovely, isn’t she? She’ll be a great hit in town.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up a duchess,” Richard commented.
Much to my surprise, I found I was enjoying myself. These people were pleasant, and I could converse with them easier than with some of the people I’d grown up with. Tom joined us and found a great deal in common with Sir George, a hunting man, and soon the two groups of younger people mingled in an amiable way.
Tom claimed his dance from me when we got to the country-dances, as he always did. I could always rely on Tom to help me in the old days.
“They’re all talking about you,” he said as we passed down the line.
“What are they saying?”
“Well, Miss Terry told her friends she didn’t know how you, and not your sister, had trapped Lord Strang, and she said it quite loudly, too, but she’s the only one who doesn’t seem to be happy for you. You never got on with her, did you?”
Tom knew our history. “No.”
“Mama wanted me to get to know her better at one point, but I found her too stupid.” He glanced to where she danced with Lord Thwaite. She smiled and glanced about the room to make sure everyone saw her great victory. Tom sighed. “She’ll make her own downfall, that one.”
We followed the rounds of the dance, and when we came together again he complimented me on my appearance. “You look beautiful tonight.” I accepted this compliment with pleasure, since I knew he was not in the least in love with me and wouldn’t have hesitated to tell me if my hair was out of place, or if the colour I wore made me look ill. “You’re glowing, you know, and those diamonds have set the room alight.”
“Lady Fleming has a fine set of emeralds.”
“Yes, but she’s a member of high society, she’s the sort of person wears that sort of jewellery. You’re Miss Golightly, the girl we’ve known all our lives, and that’s what caused the sensation. They finally realise you’ve gone away from them, you’re part of something they can’t join.”
“You can, though,” I said quickly. “I’d hate to lose your friendship, Tom. Do you think your mother would allow you and Georgiana to visit us when we’re married?”
“She’d jump at it. Do you know where you’ll live? Will you live in Derbyshire?”
I smiled. We parted again, only to come together at the end of the dance. I continued to try to answer his question. “Richard says he can’t live in the same house as his parents for too long. He says we’ll decide after the bride trip.” I dropped my head, at that reminder. When I thought of that, I wanted him again. I was turning into a dreadful wanton. Tom was too much of a gentleman to notice, and as the dance had now ended, and Richard was taking the floor with Miss Sturman, he took me back to James and Martha, who also seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely.
The older generation, too, seemed to mix well, my old world and my new one. I hoped Martha was feeling as relieved as I was. She too had been feeling a little apprehensive before the evening began, not being naturally happy in company, but now she looked much more at her ease, as she chatted to a lady she hadn’t met before in a relaxed manner.
My hand was claimed for some of the other dances, and I managed quite well. Richard danced with Miss Terry, and whispered a few words to her, at which she first looked startled and then smiled, and nodded. More flirting, I supposed, and I wondered if he would be as brutal with her as I knew he could be. I wished I hadn’t mentioned anything to him about Miss Terry’s disdain for me, but the damage was done. Perhaps the fan trick had been all he would do. I could only hope so.
Chapter Eleven
I was finishing my second glass of wine when I faltered and was forced to put my hand down on the nearest chair for support. Richard was by my side instantly. “Are you all right, my love?”
“Just a little dizzy. A combination of the wine and the heat. I’ll be fine.”
“Come with me.”
He took me out the main room, into the corridor that led to the card rooms. At the end of the passage he opened a door. We entered an empty room, where the fire hadn’t been lit, so it was much cooler in here. He took me to a sofa set in front of the window and sat me down.
“I like to explore my terrain a little, and I discovered this room earlier. Stay here. I’ll see if I can get you some lemonade or something equally innocuous.” He left the room, returning in a few moments with a glass of lemonade for me and a glass of wine for himself.
I took a few deep breaths and smiled reassuringly at him. “That’s much better. I drank too much at dinner because I was nervous, then it was so hot in the main room…”
He slipped an arm around my shoulders, and I sank gratefully into its protection, against his shoulder. “I should have noticed before. You’re more accustomed to watching, aren’t you? Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Astonishingly, yes.” I sipped the lemonade, and put the glass to my forehead to cool the headache forming. “Recently, these Assemblies had become torture for me, but I had to go, to let Lizzie think I was conten
t. I was relegated to sitting by the wall with the other forgotten women.”
He snorted. “They don’t seem to appreciate quality here. You saw how surprised Caroline was when you said you hadn’t taken?”
“Yes.” I sipped again.
“Do you believe me now?”
“In what way?”
“That you’re a lovely woman and any man would be glad of you? You would have taken in London with or without me?” He took my fan from me and spread it out with a crack any woman would be glad to produce. He fanned my face, and I sighed contentedly. I began to feel my strength return and the budding headache fade away, though whether it was his care or the respite I couldn’t say.
“It’s hard to readjust to the idea. But I’m trying to.”
“I should think so. And here’s a secret worth knowing.” He put the fan down and took a sip of his wine, then took up the fan again afterwards. “If you believe in your own beauty, other people will believe it too. Have you ever seen a portrait of an accredited beauty, and thought it must be a poor likeness because she isn’t a beauty at all?”
“Frequently.”
“Sometimes they are considered beautiful because they think so, and everybody else has been told so.”
“Were the Gunnings truly beautiful, then?” I asked him, in a reference to the three beauties who had taken London by storm two years before.
“Oh yes, truly beautiful. But the whole circus became too much. People followed them about, once even a shoe was displayed in a cobbler’s as belonging to Miss Maria Gunning, and it drew crowds of spectators. She got herself her duke in the end but I prefer a few brains with my beauty, and the Gunnings were as feather-headed as they come.” He gave me a private sweet smile. “I’m so pleased I didn’t join in with the general hysteria. I might have missed you, my sweet life.”
I smiled back at him, and he gave me a lingering kiss. He made to close my fan, but studied it before he gave it back to me. It was the one I had bought on the previous Wednesday, not particularly special, but he seemed to need something to focus on.
Devonshire: Richard and Rose, Book 2 Page 12
