The Unaccomplished Lady Eleanor

by Wendy Burdess

  Eleanor widened her eyes. ‘A young widow? Do you have any idea of her age?’

  ‘One can assume that she is a little older than you, Eleanor. Although hopefully she is a little less … hard work,’ replied the dowager, through pursed lips.

  Despite her godmother’s disparaging comment, Eleanor’s spirits soared. It would be fun to have another young lady in the house. And she would no longer be outnumbered by James and Derek Lovell. Yes, the news regarding their new guest had cheered up Eleanor considerably.

  Just at that moment, James entered the breakfast-room. Eleanor had not set eyes on him since his conversation with Felicity yesterday. Feigning a great deal of interest in the slice of toast she was buttering, Eleanor mumbled a good morning. She wondered how he was feeling; whether he, too, had had a fitful night’s sleep. She didn’t have long to wait to find out, in fact only as long as it took him to sit down and reach for the sliver coffee pot.

  ‘Well, Aunt,’ he began, ‘I think congratulations are in order. That was one of the best garden parties ever.’

  Eleanor’s eyebrows shot to her forehead. How could he sound so … chirpy? She sneaked a look at him. He looked fine: quite normal in fact in his spotless riding attire. Evidently his conversation with Felicity had not affected him at all.

  At her nephew’s praise, the dowager’s severe expression melted slightly. ‘Well, if I do say so myself, James, it did go rather well thanks, in no small part, to you playing the perfect host. All those young chits were eating out of your hand.’

  James smiled and rolled his eyes. ‘It was all I could do to shake some of them off.’

  ‘Indeed,’ chuckled the dowager. ‘Well, do not permit Cynthia Carmichael to hear you say such a thing. That woman will never tire in her efforts to marry you off to the ghastly Felicity.’

  At the mention of Felicity, Eleanor held her breath and raised her eyes to James. She observed how his jaw muscles tensed for a few seconds, before he resumed his usual relaxed countenance.

  ‘In that case, my dear Aunt,’ he smiled, ‘I’m afraid Cynthia Carmichael will soon be one very exhausted woman.’

  A peremptory knock at the door signalled the arrival of Giles. ‘Begging your pardon, your grace,’ he said, on entering the room and bowing stiffly, ‘but there is a … a … man at the door with … something for Lady Eleanor.’

  Eleanor’s toast stopped mid-way to her mouth.

  ‘What man and what something, Giles?’ snapped the dowager.

  ‘The farmer, Mickey Humphreys, your grace. With several … dead rabbits.’

  Eleanor’s heart sank. Mickey had evidently brought over her prize from the archery competition. With the awful business with Felicity, she had completely forgotten about it. Now James had an ideal opportunity to inform the dowager of what would undoubtedly be classed as Eleanor’s ‘shockingly unbecoming behaviour’ and she would receive the biggest scolding of her life.

  The dowager’s enquiring gaze came to rest on her goddaughter. ‘And what, may I ask, would Mickey Humphreys be doing here with dead rabbits, Eleanor?’

  Eleanor flushed guiltily. ‘I, er-’

  ‘They are to be distributed between the farmhouses, Aunt,’ cut in James. ‘Two men were poaching in the woods yesterday. Mickey caught them and Lady Eleanor instructed him to share the bounty between the various farmhouses.’

  The dowager’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘Did she indeed? So, why, in that case, is Mr Humphreys bringing the rabbits here, pray?’

  ‘I, um, have no-’ stammered Eleanor, growing increasingly uncomfortable under her godmother’s scrutiny.

  ‘The man has obviously forgotten his instructions,’ piped up James. ‘Please remind him, Giles, that the rabbits are to be distributed between the houses on the estate.’

  ‘Very well, my lord,’ replied Giles, bowing his head and exiting the room.

  James shook his head in exasperation. ‘Damned farmers. Can’t remember where they live sometimes. Although, having seen some of their wives, perhaps that is merely wishful thinking.’

  Relief coursing through her, Eleanor failed to suppress a snort of laughter.

  ‘Really, Eleanor,’ tutted the dowager, ‘it does not do for young ladies to snort like a farmyard animal. Indeed, it is most-’

  ‘-unbecoming,’ chorused Eleanor and James together, before collapsing into fits of hysterical laughter.

  The dowager’s pursed lips and stern expression showed that she was not impressed with their uncouth behaviour. ‘I do wish, Eleanor, that you would take matters regarding your conduct a little more seriously. Heaven only knows how we will ever find a man who can cope with you. Now, girl, you are aware, are you not, that we have a number of social occasions to attend next week?’

  Eleanor attempted a serious tone. ‘Yes, Godmother.’

  ‘And have you, dare I ask, given any thought to what you are to wear to these occasions?’

  Focussing on her toast, Eleanor attempted to quell the bubble of laughter swelling in her stomach. But, at a roar of laughter from James, she could hold it back no longer.

  ‘I’m afraid I have not, Godmother,’ she blurted out, tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks. ‘I haven’t given it any thought at all.’

  James was now laughing so hard that he had pushed back his chair from the table and was almost doubled up.

  The dowager cast them both an exasperated look. ‘Then it is just as well that one of us has the foresight to think of such matters. You will accompany me to London today, Eleanor, where we shall buy you a new gown. We will leave at eleven o’clock sharp.’

  This announcement resulted in yet more hysterics, until Giles, obviously unimpressed at so much activity in one morning, appeared once again in the doorway. ‘Excuse me, my lord, but a note has been delivered for you. The messenger informed me that it requires your urgent attention.’

  All laughter ceased. A serious expression spread over James’s face. ‘Give it here,’ he instructed.

  Snatching the envelope from the tray, James ripped it open and proceeded to read the note. As he did so, Eleanor observed all colour drain from his face.

  ‘Excuse me, Aunt, Lady Eleanor,’ he said, thrusting to his feet. ‘But I have a matter of some import to attend to.’

  And with that, he strode out of the room leaving Eleanor with the uneasy feeling that the note had had something to do with Felicity Carmichael and her threat.

  Eleanor had never been to London before. In fact, apart from the odd hurried essential purchase, she had never really been shopping before. As their carriage rattled its way along the wide, cobbled streets, she wondered at all the traffic, the cacophony of sounds, the intermingling smells – some more pleasant than others - and the plethora of glass-fronted shops offering everything from pigs’ heads to exquisite jewels. Never before had she seen so many buildings crammed into one space. She gazed wide-eyed at the ancient magnificence of some juxtaposed with the fashionable modernity of others.

  ‘Many years ago, we used to take a house in Grosvenor Square for the Season,’ informed the dowager, ‘but I am too old for such upheaval now. Whitlock serves us well enough being only a few miles from the centre.’

  Eleanor nodded her agreement. Being a country girl, she didn’t think she could have stood it at all if she had been forced to stay in such a place for more than a few hours.

  Winding its way into the centre, the coach passed a dark-haired man on horseback who, from the rear, put Eleanor in mind of James. She had admired his spirit that morning after yesterday’s confrontation with Felicity. And she had greatly appreciated him not divulging the real reason Mickey Humphreys had turned up with the rabbits. Indeed, she would go as far as to say that she had enjoyed his company at breakfast. She had never seen him laugh before. It had affected his features very pleasantly indeed.

  The dowager, it soon became apparent, was not only intent on buying Eleanor a new gown, but seemed set on replenishing her entire wardrobe. Three ball gowns were ordered, all a li
ttle too revealing for Eleanor’s taste, along with a selection of day dresses, evening dresses, hats, shoes, bonnets, petticoats and boots. By the time they arrived home, Eleanor was exhausted. Milly, on the other hand, could scarce contain her excitement as she rifled through the packages, marvelling at the delights within.

  ‘Ooh, miss, you’re going to look mighty fine when we get you in all of this. I can hardly wait for all them new dresses to come. You’re going to look better than a queen.’

  Most of the dresses were to be made up and delivered later that week, but in her excitement, for dinner that evening, Milly forced Eleanor into the one new evening dress she had brought back with her. The garment was of dove-coloured silk, with a narrow skirt and a lace-trimmed bodice. She also spent a little longer on her hair, arranging it in a cluster of curls held in place with a new pearl clip. At the end of the girl’s efforts Eleanor admired her reflection in the mirror. She looked - and she felt - very nice indeed.

  Eleanor’s satisfied opinion of herself lasted only until she entered the saloon where they gathered before dinner.

  ‘Ah, Eleanor,’ said the dowager, seated in her usual fireside chair, cradling a large brandy glass. ‘Allow me to introduce our new guest, Lady Madeleine Bouvray, from Hungary.’

  Lady Madeleine rose from her chair and turned to face Eleanor. It was all Eleanor could do not to gasp at the woman’s perfection. She was a little shorter than Eleanor with a slim figure and ample bosom. Her hair was white-blonde and dressed high on her head, accentuating sharp cheekbones, startling blue eyes and a perfect rosebud mouth. She was wearing a beautiful gown of rose-pink sarcanet, which sat well with her flawless alabaster-like skin. She was, thought Eleanor, the image of a fragile china doll.

  The woman held out a tiny hand to her. ‘Delighted to meet you,’ she purred, in an exotic foreign accent.

  Accepting the proffered hand, Eleanor marvelled at its softness. In the presence of this perfect petite creature, she suddenly felt large and gawky. She attempted to return the woman’s greeting with more enthusiasm than she was feeling. As Madeleine resumed her seat in the armchair opposite that of the dowager, Eleanor made herself comfortable on the sofa between the two. She accepted a glass of orgeat from Stevens then, curious to find out more about her prospective new friend, she said, ‘My godmother informs me that you wish to spend the Season in London, Lady Madeleine.’

  ‘Indeed, I do,’ smiled Madeleine. ‘And I am extremely grateful to Lady Ormiston for allowing me the opportunity.’ She inclined her head graciously to the dowager.

  ‘I must confess, Madeleine,’ announced the dowager, studying the woman through narrowed eyes, ‘that I was surprised to hear from Lady Neilson. It is quite some years now since we were friends here in London. Her husband was the Hungarian ambassador you know, and they had to return to Hungary in quite a hurry if I recall. We corresponded for several years but then lost touch. How is the woman?’

  Lady Madeleine’s perfect mouth stretched into a beguiling smile. ‘She is very well, ma’am. And most keen that I pass on her kindest regards. She hopes you will write to her soon.’

  ‘I shall,’ nodded the dowager. ‘In fact, I shall give the matter my most urgent attention.’

  ‘She speaks very highly of you,’ continued Lady Madeleine. ‘In fact, she told me you were one of the most charming people she has ever had the good fortune to meet.’

  Eleanor raised a dubious eyebrow. The dowager could be described as many things but charming was most certainly not amongst them.

  ‘Did she indeed?’ said Lady Ormiston, visibly puffing up at the compliment. ‘Well, we were good friends; very good friends. And I missed the woman greatly after she left. I shall write to her this very evening.’

  ‘I’m sure she will be delighted,’ said the younger woman.

  Eleanor took another sip of her orgeat. ‘Well, Lady Madeleine, I must congratulate you on your excellent English. However did you learn to speak it so well?’

  Lady Madeleine flashed a grateful smile. ‘You are too kind,’ she replied graciously. ‘My grandmother was English so she -’

  She broke off as the door was thrust open and in marched James, looking decidedly melancholy.

  ‘Ah,’ beamed the dowager, her features softening, as usual, at the sight of her adored nephew. ‘Madeleine, this is my nephew, James Prestonville, Marquis of Rothwell.’

  Lady Madeleine’s eyes lit up as James approached her. She rose from her chair. ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, my lord’ she purred, dropping down into a deep curtsy, which permitted him a first-class view of her bosom.

  Eleanor watched with interest, curious to observe the effect Lady Madeleine’s exquisite beauty would have on a member of the male species. To her amazement, though, James seemed hardly to notice the woman. He merely offered her a cursory bow before plumping down on the sofa next to Eleanor and staring into the crackling fire.

  ‘Lady Madeleine has just arrived from Hungary this evening, James,’ informed the dowager, glaring imploringly at her nephew.

  Correctly interpreting the glare as an instruction to engage in conversation, James muttered flatly, ‘Oh, yes. I trust you had a good journey, ma’am?’

  Lady Madeleine resumed her seat and smoothed down her skirts. ‘Thank you, sir, it was very good indeed,’ she replied, tossing him a dazzling smile.

  James merely nodded and smiled fleetingly. An awkward silence followed, broken by the dowager.

  ‘Well, Madeleine, we are all to attend the Carmichaels’ ball on Friday and I’m sure James would be delighted to accompany you, would you not, James?’

  ‘Wh-what’ stammered James, the sound of his name obviously breaking his musings.

  ‘I was just informing Madeleine, that you would be delighted to accompany her to the Carmichaels’ ball on Friday, would you not?’ By her firm tone, there was no doubt this was not a question, but an order.

  ‘Oh. Of, er, course,’ faltered James. ‘I should be delighted, Lady Madeleine.’

  The dowager and Madeleine exchanged contented smiles while James resumed his study of the flames. Eleanor slanted him a glance. Anxiety was written all over his handsome features. Something had obviously changed since that morning; something that had had a serious effect on his demeanour; something that had definitely started with the arrival of the note at breakfast.

  SEVEN

  Whatever brief notions Eleanor had been harbouring for a friendship with Lady Madeleine, she very quickly discarded, for it soon became clear that she was not amongst those persons whom Madeleine deemed worthy of her company. Two days ago, for example, Eleanor had enquired if Madeleine would care to accompany her on a stroll around the gardens. The woman had declined on the grounds that she was ‘feeling a little peaked and going for a lie-down’. An hour later, however, Eleanor had bumped into her strolling with James who, despite the presence of the beautiful Hungarian, had remained somewhat subdued over the last few days.

  In another incident that morning, the dowager had invited Madeleine to accompany herself and Eleanor on a trip to Richmond. The regretful excuse this time was that she had a pile of correspondence to catch up on. Within half an hour of their departure, though, Eleanor had been reliably informed by Milly that Madeleine had joined James in the drawing-room where the pair had spent the entire morning taking tea and chatting.

  ‘If you’re asking me,’ Milly had puffed, ‘she’s a top scholar at flirting, that one.’

  ‘Well, that’s as may be, Milly,’ Eleanor had replied, ‘but it seems that she has everyone under her spell. Even my godmother appears to have warmed to her. Obviously one can get away with a great deal when one is as beautiful as Lady Madeleine.’

  ‘Hmph,’ Milly had tutted. ‘The woman ain’t one bit prettier than you, miss, and that’s the truth of it.’

  Eleanor soon discovered that she was not the only member of the household to whom Madeleine had taken a dislike. The woman made no secret of her revulsion of the lecherous Derek Lovell, w
ho, undeterred by the Hungarian’s caustic comments, continued with his lewd remarks whenever the dowager was out of earshot. But Derek Lovell’s lack of popularity did not stop with the Whitlock females. Even James, in his melancholy state, seemed to be growing tired of the man’s irritating, frivolous behaviour.

  The previous evening the dowager had taken dinner in her room leaving the four of them to dine downstairs. Following a juvenile comment from Derek Lovell regarding two pink moulded blancmanges, Madeleine had piped up, ‘In Hungary, we have a saying, Mr Lovell, that the constant need to refer to something signifies that the person is lacking in the something to which they are constantly referring.’

  ‘And what do you mean by that exactly, Lady Madeleine?’ Derek Lovell had sneered.

  ‘You may read into it what you will, Mr Lovell,’ came the caustic reply. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I should like to take a stroll around the gardens. James, will you accompany me?’

  ‘Wh-what?’ James had stammered, lost in his thoughts once again.

  ‘Please accompany me in a stroll around the gardens,’ Madeleine had said, rising to her feet. ‘I have no wish to spend a moment longer in this disgusting man’s presence.’

  And with that, she had flounced out of the room, with James, and indeed Eleanor, not far behind her.

  ‘Enfin! Enfin!’ Monsieur Aminieux clapped his hands. ‘She can do it enfin.’

  Indeed even Eleanor was feeling quite pleased with herself. In addition to her dreaded daily lessons with M. Aminieux, it had taken an additional, and much more enjoyable, two hours each day for the last week with Milly, for her to master the complicated steps of the quadrille. Not wishing to cause any trouble, the two girls had deemed it wisest to keep the extra tuition a secret, but Eleanor was determined to find some way to show Milly her appreciation.

  ‘Excuse me, your grace.’ Lady Madeleine appeared in the ballroom doorway, looking her usual radiant self in a day gown of worked muslin. ‘I wondered if I might take the carriage into London this afternoon.’