A Lady's Virture

by A. S. Fenichel

The question shook her. “I’m not sure I believe a person has a love of their life.”

  He relaxed. “If you think that, then he wasn’t yours. My parents were inseparable. They could not sit in a room together without one placing a hand on the other’s shoulder or letting their fingers graze each other. My sister and Marlton are the same way. Their love is so enormous, everyone who meets them can see it.”

  What would it be like to have that kind of love? A silly notion, but one she would think about for a long time. “Then your answer is, no. Hunter was not the love of my life.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I don’t like the idea of you suffering the loss of that kind of love.”

  Too much emotion flew between them like some thick jungle she’d read about. It would do only harm to fight through that kind of mess. “What is your secret?”

  He opened the study door and leaned in until she felt his breath on her ear. “I would marry you to keep you safe, Sylvie.”

  “What?” She must have heard him wrong.

  Mrs. Horthorn stood up from her chair in the parlor across the foyer. “Ready to leave now, Miss Dowder?”

  “I, um. Yes. I suppose I’m ready.”

  “Good day, Miss Dowder.” Anthony’s expression was serious and intense.

  She swallowed to make room for more words. “Good day, my lord.”

  * * * *

  It had taken Sylvia longer than usual to go down for the morning meal. The more she thought about what he’d said, the more confused Sylvia became. Would he marry a woman just to keep the gossips at bay? No one in their right mind would saddle themselves with a wife they didn’t want for such a silly reason. She must have misunderstood him. Not that it mattered. She didn’t need anyone to keep her safe and she certainly didn’t want to be any man’s burden.

  In the breakfast room all the ladies where talking at once, with Lord Rupert grinning from ear to ear at the head of the table.

  As Sylvia entered everyone grew silent and gawked at her.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Is something amiss?” She checked her dress for tears or stains.

  “Not at all, Miss Dowder. It seems you have a champion,” Jane said, waving the morning newspaper in the air.

  “Is that so?” Sylvia took a plate and served herself toast and coddled eggs from the sideboard.

  Once she was seated, Lady Jane said, “Oh yes, it seems Miss Tattler was at the ball last week and has taken up your cause. She thrashed Miss Whitewall soundly, saying she saw no imprudent behavior on your part. She even said that you had only taken part in one dance all evening, and while it was with Lord Grafton, there was nothing improper to report.”

  Sylvia swallowed a bite of toast. “That was kind of Miss Tattler. I wonder why she would take an interest in me.”

  On the other side of the table, Ann clapped happily. “She said in her article that she was tired of the mean-spiritedness that is taking over the ballrooms of London. Miss Tattler said that there was nothing to gain by besmirching the reputation of a lady of good birth but no consequence. She went so far as to accuse the gossips of having some design on Lord Grafton, as that was the only reason anyone would be so mean.”

  Perhaps she had gone too far with that part, but Sylvia had been so hurt and angry at the time, she’d written more from the heart than her head.

  Honoria cleared her throat. “A bit rough to say you are of no consequence, in my opinion.”

  “True though,” Sylvia said. “I threaten no one searching for a husband.”

  Jane put the paper down. “It’s a triumph for you, Miss Dowder. I wish I could thank Miss Tattler in person. She has done the Everton Domestic Society a great service.”

  Lord Rupert coughed. Sylvia caught his eye as he gave her a long look.

  Clearly, he knew of her secondary occupation.

  Honoria raised an eyebrow. “I’m just glad we shall get through one early morning without an angry earl banging down the doors.”

  “That is a benefit.” Jane sipped her tea. “Speaking of the earl, how are the plans for the Grafton ball coming along?”

  “Everything is in order. Ann managed quite a lot of the planning, and his lordship has a competent staff. I have every expectation that it will be a singular event.” Sylvia may have shown too much pride in her work, but it was going to be a night remembered by the ton.

  “Excellent. I heard from Lady Chervil that the house looks beautiful. She had visited with Lady Collington when her ladyship was in residence and said that you have made a big impact for very little cost. I’m sure Lord Grafton is pleased.” Jane smiled down the table at her.

  “I hope he is, my lady. The house is beautiful and really only needed some updates and lightening up to suit his lordship’s tastes.”

  With a nod, she changed the subject to other cases and directed her attention to the other ladies at the table.

  Sylvia ate her eggs and excused herself.

  Lord Rupert stood. “Miss Dowder, might I have a word?”

  “Of course.” She followed him to the office, where he closed the door and stood facing her a long moment. “Is something wrong, my lord?”

  “Miss Dowder, you are a smart young woman, so I’ll not dally. It is not my habit to tell the ladies what to do. You are all capable and know your own minds, but don’t you think it time you give up your alter ego and let Miss Tattler die?”

  Sylvia sank into the chair near the desk. “I had a notion that you knew. I hope you’re not angry with me.”

  Straightening his coat, he crossed and sat behind the desk. “Not at all. I thought your column fun, and most of the time the recipients of your sharp pen deserved what they got. But if you were found out after defending yourself, you would be in a bad position and Lady Jane and I would have a difficult time finding clients who would be willing to use you. I’m sure you can see the problem.”

  A heavy weight settled on Sylvia’s chest. “I can, my lord. I do so enjoy writing the column, but it was in bad taste to defend myself so overtly. My temper got away from me.”

  “I cannot say that I blame you. That Whitewall woman was cruel, and for no reason.”

  “My lord, may I ask how long you have known Miss Tattler and I are one and the same?”

  He grinned and ran his hand down his trimmed beard, his blue eyes alight with amusement. “On your second week here, you asked for the carriage, but I had already taken it. When I was in town I saw you enter the offices of the Weekly Whisper. Once you had gone, I spoke to Mr. Cole and he told me that Miss Tattler was one of his best new writers.”

  All that time, he had known. “Thank you for keeping my secret, my lord.”

  “Does that mean you will end your work with the Weekly Whisper?”

  “I will think about your advice. It is not my habit to act rashly, but it may be time to put Miss Tattler to an end.” Standing, she brushed out her skirt.

  He stood and bowed. “I’m sure you will do what is best for you, and that is all I want, Miss Dowder. I have only your best interest in mind.”

  “I know, and I thank you.” She walked to the door. “I have some lists to make for the Grafton ball. If you will excuse me, my lord.”

  “Good day, Miss Dowder.”

  Chapter 10

  Anthony loved his mother and his sister, he was even very fond of his brother-in-law, Daniel Fallon, the Earl of Marlton, but when the three arrived early for his first ball, he’d hoped the knock would reveal Sylvia.

  “You were hoping for someone else, Tony?” Sophia winked.

  “I’m happy to see you.” He wished for the thousandth time he could keep disappointment hidden. Anthony led them into the great parlor with its new lighter decor. A lot of the furniture had been moved to allow people to mill around more freely during the ball. Many people who did not care to dance would visit in the parlor.

>   “This is much different from when Lady Collington lived here.” Daniel sat when the ladies were seated.

  “Aunt Daphne is coming tonight, is she not, Anthony?” his mother asked.

  His nerves doubled with the thought that his great-aunt would frown upon the changes he’d made. “She said she would be here, but I’ve not heard from her in over a week.”

  Daniel glanced around, nodding his approval. “If Daphne Collington said she would be here, then she will. I have no doubt of that.”

  Their aunt was tenacious and brutally honest. Anthony was also sure she would make an appearance at the ball. There were footsteps in the hall, but it was only the footmen getting ready for guests to arrive. “I have made sure she has a seat to my right for supper.”

  “Who are you waiting so anxiously for?” Mother looked at the door then back at him.

  Sophia raised an eyebrow. “I suspect it is a certain Everton lady that Lord Grafton admires.”

  Nerves at their end, he said, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the paper, Sophie.”

  She mimicked him perfectly before switching to her own soft voice. “I don’t read gossip. However, I do know my older brother well enough to see the way he looks at Miss Sylvia Dowder. What I don’t know is why you are so hesitant to do something about it.”

  “There is nothing to do. She is an Everton lady and I have no need to act. She decorated my home and arranges my parties. Nothing more.” He leaned on the mantel.

  Daniel laughed. “Tony, it’s a good thing you don’t play cards. I have not seen Sylvia or Serena in many years. I assume they have matured out of their silliness.”

  Sophia leaned against her husband. “Serena is still quite light of heart, but Sylvia has grown more serious after the March ordeal. I hope he will not be here tonight.”

  A familiar knot tightened in Anthony’s stomach. Ann had handled the invitations, and he’d not thought to look them over. It was quite likely that, as a viscount, living in town, March would have received an invitation. “I really don’t know if he will be here.”

  “Who, my lord?” Sylvia was a vision in a ruby dress. That dress alone would cause a stir, but she looked like every dream he’d ever had. Lightly freckled, her soft skin shone in the candlelight, and her hair was woven with pearls. She was a confection and he longed to take a taste.

  His family stood. “Miss Dowder. Good evening.”

  She curtsied and smiled. “It’s nice to see you all again. Lord Marlton, it has been many years.”

  Daniel crossed and bowed over her hand. “Far too long, Miss Dowder. I was telling Tony how much I like what you’ve done with the house.”

  “I’m glad you approve. With that in mind, I should warn you that I arrived at the same time as Lady Collington. She has gone to inspect the ballroom and dining room.” Sylvia widened her eyes dramatically. “I fear for my life.”

  Mother came closer. “I hope she was kind when you saw her.”

  “I was told that March was an imbecile and I’m better off without him cluttering up my home. Oh, and she approves of ladies finding their own way in the world. I took both comments to be a great success on my part.” Sylvia smiled, and Anthony thought his heart might burst from his chest.

  It was entirely possible he had lost his mind. “She must like you.”

  Accepting the compliment, she inclined her head. “Who were you wondering about attending, my lord?”

  He’d hoped she’d forgotten but knew she didn’t forget anything. “I was saying that I didn’t know if Lord March would attend, as I did not check the guest list before Miss Wittman sent the invitations.”

  A brief wave of panic crossed her face but was quickly replaced by the calm expression English women used whenever they hid their true feelings. “I’m sure he will come if he was invited to an earl’s home.”

  “I’m sorry, Sylvie. I should have been more careful.” He should have kept their conversation formal in front of his family, but he wanted her to know she was not alone.

  “My lord, I will be fine. There is no need for you to concern yourself.”

  “Nephew!” Aunt Daphne called before her tall figure ambled in with the use of an elaborate cane. Her gray hair was swept away from her high forehead and piled on top in a stately bun.

  “Good evening, Aunt Daphne. I’m pleased you could come,” Anthony said and bowed before his mother and sister rushed over to hug their aunt.

  She blustered at the open affection, but he caught the hint of a smile. “You have changed the entire house.”

  “Do you like it?”

  She narrowed her gaze and glowered at the redecorated parlor. “It suits you.”

  Anthony took a deep breath. “I’m glad you approve. Miss Dowder did most of the work, but if you had hated it, I would have had to take the blame.”

  A slow smile pulled at Daphne’s lips. “You are more and more like your father. Well done. The table is spectacular. I should be interested to see it after Cook brings in the food.”

  “The menu will be wonderful, and Cook has promised me some beautiful puddings,” Sylvia said.

  Daphne tapped her cane, walked to the divan and sat. “Miss Dowder, that gown is very forward for an unmarried woman. You’ll not stop the gossips dressing like that.”

  “I have decided they may gossip all they want. I will not change for anyone.” Sylvia lifted her chin.

  Mother grinned, as did Sophia.

  Daphne nodded. “You might go and check the seating. I thought I saw old Pemberhamble is seated next to Cynthia Watlington. That dunderhead will eat the girl alive.”

  Panic flushed Sylvia’s face. “Excuse me.” She made a curtsy and rushed from the room, skirts in hand.

  “I like that girl.” Aunt Daphne studied the door where Sylvia exited. “She turned out well despite a difficult beginning and a mother with little affection. I worry about the other one, but there’s nothing to be done but hope for the best.”

  “I like her too,” Mother said. “She’s tough but not overbearing. She’d make someone a fine wife. A shame she’s on the shelf.”

  Daphne made a derisive sound. “Don’t be so sure, Angelica. Good women like that do not last long without some smart gentleman snatching them up. Even with the March scandal, I think Miss Sylvia Dowder will marry. Perhaps she’ll meet a nice gentleman tonight. Ballrooms are always the best place to find a husband.”

  Sophia said, “It is where Daniel and I first met. I had Miss Ann Wittman add Mr. Edward Tucker to the guest list tonight. I thought he might be a nice match for Miss Dowder.”

  Anthony had forgotten about Mr. Tucker. He didn’t know whether to berate his sister for inviting him or toss him from the house the moment he appeared. Both would be satisfying, but he would do neither. The night was not starting out well.

  Daniel kissed her hand. “You took my breath away, and a few minutes later, I wanted to throttle you with your request for me to dance with Elinor, and you were flirting with Thomas. However, I thought you had given up matchmaking.”

  “I most certainly was not flirting. I was talking him into dancing with Elinor to save her reputation after Michael had ruined her. I’m not matchmaking, just creating opportunities for two nice people.”

  Daphne laughed, and everyone turned at the rare sound. “It all turned out, as you two are married these six years, Thomas has a fine wife, and Elinor is married, to a duke no less.”

  “Indeed,” Sophia agreed. “Shall we go and greet your guests, Tony?”

  Keeping his temper and expression under tight control proved more difficult than being a proper earl. How the English always appeared so benign was a mystery.

  They went to the foyer, where people had started to arrive. Each unmarried man who entered made Anthony think about what Daphne had said. Would this man or that one dance with Sylvia? Would she fal
l in love with one of them? By the time the initial crush had entered and he could break away from the front door, he was cursing himself a fool. He couldn’t stand the thought of his Sylvia with another man.

  She’d been at the other end of the receiving line, but only to make sure all went well, and the staff handled boots, swords and other items unsuitable for the ballroom with the proper care. She disappeared into the crowd long before he could snatch her up and tell her he wouldn’t stand for her marrying someone else.

  The master of ceremonies was arranging the musicians and listening to the tuning of each instrument while Anthony was lost in his thoughts.

  Miles slapped him on the back. “Let me guess what or who you are daydreaming about.”

  “Hallsmith, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Regret, worry and panic set in until Anthony thought he might be sick.

  Laughing, Miles gazed around the room. “I’m sure there is still time to fix things. After all, she’s only across the room.”

  Sure enough, Sylvia was on the other side of the ballroom with her sister and Lord Stansfield. The three had their heads together and smiled at whatever was being said. “She must think me a fool.”

  “All men are fools, and men in love are the biggest fools of all. Women know this, and she will forgive you. Or she will tell you to go to Hades. Either way, what choice do you have?”

  Miles was the most likable person Anthony had ever met, and he still wanted to murder him. “You are not helping.”

  “If you love her, you had better tell her before someone else whisks her away for a dull life of marriage and babies.”

  “You think it would be dull?” It was one of Anthony’s fears. How would he find things to talk about for the rest of his life? How would he keep her happy?

  Expression serious, Miles shook his head. “I think if you marry a woman like that, who you love, and who loves you, it cannot be dull. However, if she married the next man out of a sense of duty or fear, she will be miserable the rest of her life and so will you. Of course, that’s only my bachelor opinion, and what do I know?”

  Serena said something to Sylvia, and Sylvia turned white.