by Gayle Buck
“Then you have had the same advantageous training, Margaret? Very good!” Lady Alverley sipped her tea for a moment, before saying, “As I mentioned earlier, I had expected you yesterday. It is unfortunate that you are late, for I am unable to cancel all of my engagements for today.”
“We had a broken axle to the coach late yesterday afternoon, ma’am, and were forced to seek out an inn for the night. We were unable to hire a chaise until this morning,” said Sarah quickly. “I hope that we have not put you out too much.”
“Oh, no, no, nothing of the sort. It is a minor annoyance only,” said Lady Alverley, waving her hand dismissively. “Now tell me about yourselves. I recall seeing you as a small girl, of course, Sarah. But I do not think that I saw Margaret more than a time or two when she was still in leading-strings.”
At once Margaret began to relate all sorts of details about their lives. Sarah added a few words here and there, but she allowed her sister to do most of the talking. Margaret’s artless, confiding ways seemed to amuse Lady Alverley and it gave Sarah the opportunity to observe their grandmother’s expressions. She had been mindful of Lord Eustace’s casual observation about Lady Alverley when they had first met and now she rather thought that she understood what he had meant. She could see the pride and even a certain arrogance in Lady Alverley, in her mannerisms and in the way that her ladyship posed certain questions. However, Sarah did not think that Lady Alverley was overbearing or ill-natured. Merely, her ladyship was a proud elderly lady who had become very much set in her ways.
Inevitably Margaret mentioned the accident to their coach and Lord Eustace’s timely appearance. Lady Alverley interrupted her granddaughter. “Did you say that Lord Eustace took you up in his own postchaise?”
“Yes, and he was so very polite and obliging about it,” said Margaret. “I liked his lordship very much.”
Lady Alverley turned a curious gaze on her eldest granddaughter. “And what of you, Sarah? Did you also like Lord Eustace?”
* * *
Chapter 3
“Of course I did. I thought that his lordship was everything one could wish for in a gentleman under such circumstances,” said Sarah, a little surprised to be asked such a question.
“You are not so ready as Margaret to sing his lordship’s praises,” observed Lady Alverley.
Sarah smiled and shook her head. “I am more reserved in my enthusiasms, ma’am. However, what I know of Lord Eustace I do like.”
“You are discreet, Sarah. It is a trait which I prize,” said Lady Alverley approvingly. “I shall reassure you about his lordship. Lord Eustace is well spoken of in my circles. He is personable, of good birth, and possesses a fine fortune. Three years ago he was contracted to wed a Miss Leander. I never quite understood Lord Eustace’s lapse in good judgment, for the young woman was wild to a fault. Vivian Leander was very popular with most of the gentlemen. In any event, she was killed in an unfortunate carriage accident before they could be wed.”
“How awful!” exclaimed Sarah, her ready sympathy instantly aroused. Opposite her, Margaret was listening with widened eyes.
“It was a tragedy, certainly. But my understanding is that Lord Eustace has not lacked for companionship since,” said Lady Alverley. “I tell you all of this so that you will understand what sort of man Lord Eustace has become.”
“Do you mean that his lordship is a-a libertine?” asked Sarah hesitantly, with only a hazy notion of what she was asking.
“Nothing of the sort! You misunderstand me completely. And I will thank you not to use such vocabulary again, Sarah,” said Lady Alverley reprovingly. “I meant only that Lord Eustace is in a singular position. He is a bachelor, very eligible, but few choose to pit themselves against the memory of a dead love. In short, he has become something of a fixture in London society. He is known everywhere and is seen everywhere. It is thought to be quite a cachet to be noticed by him. You could do worse that to attach him as an admirer, Sarah. It would do your social standing good.”
A gleam of amusement entered Sarah’s hazel eyes. It sounded perfectly ridiculous to her that any one gentleman’s notice could be thought to be so important to her own eligibility. However, she would not voice her thoughts to her grandmother. Somehow she did not think Lady Alverley would appreciate the humor. “I shall keep that in mind, Grandmama.”
“Pray do so, Sarah.” Lady Alverley touched her forefinger to her chin. Her voice became reflective. “I must be certain to send Lord Eustace an invitation to your come-out. It will not hurt to throw out a bit of encouragement in that direction.”
Sarah blinked at her grandmother. Surely Lady Alverley was taking what was a chance encounter in too serious a vein. “Of course I will be delighted to renew my acquaintance with Lord Eustace, my lady. But I do not think that his lordship took any particular note of me.”
“That remains to be seen, Sarah,” said Lady Alverley. “One must be optimistic, after all.”
“Lord Eustace promised to call on us here while we are visiting with you, Grandmama,” said Margaret helpfully. “Is that all right?”
Lady Alverley smiled. “Of course, my dear. I can have no possible objection,” she said graciously. She set down her teacup. “Now, I shall reveal to you both a little of what I have planned for the Season, which I trust will meet with your approval. I intend to launch you into polite society with much fanfare and before the Season is out, I hope to receive several respectable offers for your hands.”
“Do you truly think so, Grandmama?” asked Margaret, her eyes rounding again. “Sarah and I are not known at all in London. Why should anyone offer for us?”
“You are dowered with respectable portions, fortunately, so I do not anticipate any difficulties,” said Lady Alverley. Her tone changed slightly. “I was very pleased to discover that your father has been too prudent, especially since attaining to the title, to have squandered his fortune away like so many of his set. That is one trait of your father’s to which I never took exception.”
Sarah glanced swiftly at her grandmother. There was a faintly critical note in Lady Alverley’s voice that she did not like, since it was directed at her father. She rather thought that she knew what was at the root of Lady Alverley’s obvious dislike for her parent, however.
Apparently Margaret was also aware of Lady Alverley’s aversion. Wide-eyed, she asked, “Did you and Papa quarrel often, Grandmama?”
“We were not in one another’s company enough to quarrel,” said Lady Alverley shortly.
“Recall that Papa eloped with Mama, Margaret. Certainly our grandmother could not have been happy with either of them,” said Sarah quietly.
Lady Alverley threw her eldest granddaughter an appraising glance. “You’ve wit, I see. That is quite true, Sarah. I was not made happy by their runaway marriage. At the time your father was a younger son with scant hope of attaining to the title. I did not wish my daughter to throw herself away on one whom I considered to be beneath her in advantages, birth, and connections.”
“And so you refused your permission for their engagement and denied the house to our father,” murmured Sarah.
Margaret stared at Sarah in dismay, then glanced at Lady Alverley. “I did not know this.”
“It is old history, my dear. Perhaps it does hold a valuable lesson, however,” said Lady Alverley. “I shall explain, and then we shall speak no more of it. A pecuniary life in obscure circumstances was not what I wished for my daughter. It was completely unacceptable to me. I was both shocked and angered by their subsequent scandalous behavior. Such marriages are frequently crippled from the outset, hurling the participants at once into hideous exile and abject poverty.”
Sarah could not allow her grandmother’s statements to stand unchallenged. She knew that however true the general circumstances as told by Lady Alverley, there were facts that had not been voiced by her ladyship. “Yet my mother and father were very happy,” she said quietly. “Nor did we ever want for anything.”
Lady Alve
rley’s eyes narrowed and her mouth thinned. Sarah saw immediately that her grandmother did not like to be corrected. It even appeared that Lady Alverley possessed something of a temper.
Lady Alverley seemed on the point of uttering some remark when Margaret hurried into the breach. “Yes, that is very true! I do recall that Mama and Papa were always holding hands and laughing together. It is one of my earliest memories. And Papa is very well known for his books. I daresay he is almost as rich as you are now, Grandmama.”
The tight look about Lady Alverley’s mouth vanished as she allowed a laugh to escape her. She patted Margaret’s hand. “He is not quite as rich as I am, I assure you. Now we shall not talk any more about what is past, if you please. I wish instead to talk about you. Though I shall admit that my daughter did well for herself in the end—your father did attain to the title, after all—she made a grave error that I am determined that neither of you shall repeat.”
“What precisely do you mean, ma’am?” asked Sarah warily.
Lady Alverley threw a stern look at her. “That is the lesson of which I spoke. There will be none of this romantic nonsense that I so deplore in the younger set. Marrying solely for love, indeed! As though neither family nor position are in the least important.” She lifted a long beringed finger and shook it at her granddaughters. “You will be guided completely by me, Sarah, Margaret. I will introduce you into very good ton, opening to you the doors that all young ladies of birth are privileged to enter. You will meet and be courted by gentlemen of birth and standing. And you will receive several fine offers, which you will naturally wish to consider. I will be quite content to see you both well established this Season.”
“I assume that we shall be able to choose a gentleman who is also to our liking?” asked Sarah quietly.
“Pray do not be impertinent, Sarah! By no means have I implied that I shall in any way influence you to accept an offer which you find repugnant,” said Lady Alverley sharply.
“Of course not. Forgive me, ma’am,” said Sarah.
Margaret looked from her sister to her grandmother and back again. Her expression was troubled. “I am persuaded that someone very dashing and handsome shall offer for you, Sarah. You are so clever and pretty and kind.”
Sarah smiled warmly at her sister. The affection between them was real and now it proved to be a buffer against the unpleasant tension that had risen between herself and Lady Alverley. “You are sweet, Margaret. And what of you, pray? Any gentleman would be fortunate to have you to wife.”
Margaret gave a careless shrug and said cheerfully, “Oh, if you say so. But I am happy enough to be here in London with Grandmama. I hope to attend as many parties as I possibly can.”
Lady Alverley had been listening to their exchange with an amused smile. She seemed to have regained her good humor, and she nodded. “I intend for you to be highly entertained, my dears. We shall scarcely dine at all at home, I daresay. First things must come first, however. We must do something about your wardrobes at once.”
Sarah looked down at her well-made olive green pelisse, then exchanged an astonished glance with her sister.
“Why, don’t we appear to advantage, Grandmama?” asked Margaret.
“Of course you do, Margaret dear,” said Lady Alverley with a smile. “But fashions in London are just a bit different than what you are used to and so we must make a few adjustments. I wrote to your father that I would bear the cost of whatever you needed, including the expense of your Court dresses. I shall hand you over into the care of my own modiste, I think. The woman is a veritable genius. She shall have you done over in a trice.”
Sarah and Margaret looked at each other again. Sarah saw the same dismay on Margaret’s face that she herself felt. She voiced their concern. “Grandmama, we do appreciate what you wish to do for us. Truly we do. But Papa charged us not to be a great expense to you and he provided us with very generous pin money each month. Surely we may purchase whatever we might require.”
“Of course, Sarah. Naturally you shall wish to purchase for yourselves such little things as might catch your eye. However, I have made myself responsible for the dressing of you and of Margaret,” said Lady Alverley.
“But—”
“Pray do not voice any further objections, for it will cause me to be very irritable with you,” said Lady Alverley with a warning frown. She rose to her feet and crossed to the bell-pull. “Now I shall send you upstairs to get out of your traveling clothes. You will naturally be fatigued by your journey, so I suggest that you lie down for an hour before supper. Due to your arrival, I am dining at home this evening. I shall see you again then. Ah, here is Herbert. He will see that you are conducted to your rooms and put into the capable hands of your maid. Herbert, pray send my cousin to me.”
“At once, my lady.”
Sarah and Margaret glanced at each other again as they rose to their feet. They curtsied to Lady Alverley and then followed the butler out of the sitting room. He directed a liveried footman to show them upstairs. “Supper will be served at eight o’clock,” said the butler, stepping back.
“Eight o’clock?” repeated Margaret, her eyes rounding as she stared at the butler.
“Yes, miss. It is early, I know. Her ladyship felt that coming up from the country as you have that you would feel more comfortable with the earlier hours,” said the butler.
“That was considerate of her ladyship,” said Sarah, taking hold of her sister’s elbow and propelling her toward the stairs.
“But Sarah—”
“Shh, Margaret.” As they followed the footman up the stairs, Sarah said in a low voice, “I know. It is frightfully late by our standards. I wonder what time our grandmother does consider to be the proper hour for supper.”
“Sarah, I am positive that I shall be utterly famished long before eight o’clock,” whispered Margaret. “If I had known, I would have eaten more of the plum cake.”
“We must rely on Holby to find us some dry toast and tea,” said Sarah.
“Ugh, how horrid! But I shall not complain,” said Margaret on a sigh.
* * * *
At supper, Lady Alverley expounded further on what she had planned for her granddaughters. ‘Tomorrow morning I shall have my cousin accompany you to the modiste. Marie, I expect Sarah and Margaret to do me credit.”
“Yes, my lady,” said Miss Hanson quietly.
Sarah and Margaret had met Miss Hanson when they had returned downstairs to the sitting room where they were to join Lady Alverley before going in to supper. Miss Hanson was a maiden relative of Lady Alverley’s, who had come to live with her ladyship years before. Dressed neatly and keeping herself discreetly in the background, she served as Lady Alverley’s companion, handled her ladyship’s correspondence, and generally took upon herself whatever tasks that Lady Alverley disliked or did not want to expend her own time on.
“The Season has not truly begun, so there will be time to have a satisfactory wardrobe readied. I will hold a small gathering a fortnight hence to introduce you quietly, my dears. I anticipate no more than a hundred guests, but that will garner several invitations for you,” said Lady Alverley. “It will also give me an opportunity to see how you go on in society before your actual come-outs. Naturally you will have lessons in deportment and dancing if I see that you are in the least backward. However, you both carry yourselves so well that I scarcely think that will be necessary. Was there anything else that I am forgetting, Marie?”
“Horses, my lady,” said Miss Hanson, consulting a list that she had taken out of her pocket.
“Oh, yes. Do you ride?” asked Lady Alverley, looking at each of her granddaughters.
“Yes, of course,” said Sarah. She was still recovering from hearing Lady Alverley’s definition of what constituted a small gathering. She had much to learn, it seemed. “We are used to such exercise every day.”
“It was very hard to leave our dear mares,” said Margaret on a sigh.
“I shall make available pr
oper mounts for you. You will wish to take the air in the park. I do not ride any longer, but I shall ask an acquaintance of mine who happens to be an exceptional horsewoman to accompany you whenever necessary. No doubt Mrs. Jeffries will be happy to oblige me. She is a widow and was not left well situated,” said Lady Alverley. She turned to her companion. “Marie, they will need decent habits.”
“Of course, my lady. I shall see to it,” said Miss Hanson, nodding. She made a note on her tightly written list.
“But we have brought our own habits with us, Grandmama,” said Margaret.
“My dear, I assure you that what you are used to wearing in the country will not do for you here,” said Lady Alverley with a smile.
After supper, Lady Alverley dismissed her granddaughters by the simple expedient of sending them away. “You will wish to go up to bed presently. I shall not see you again until luncheon tomorrow, for I am engaged for the remainder of the evening and I never rise before noon.” She required a kiss from them and then glanced at her companion. “I shall leave Marie with you to make such arrangements as she deems necessary.” Lady Alverley nodded regally and left the dining room, her silk skirts swishing.
Sarah looked at Margaret and saw her own uncertainty reflected in her sister’s eyes. They did not know what to make of their grandmother’s cool dismissal. Lady Alverley had basically passed all responsibility for them into Miss Hanson’s hands.
Miss Hanson rose from the table. “Let us go into the sitting room to await coffee.” She nodded to the footman, who opened the door for her.
Obediently Sarah and Margaret followed their new mentor out of the dining room. When they had entered the sitting room, Miss Hanson requested that the door be closed behind them. She invited the two younger ladies to sit down and when they had done so, she said, smiling, “I know that all this must seem very confusing to you. I shall do my best to enlighten you as we go and answer any questions that you may have.”
“I suppose the first question I must ask is why did Lady Alverley invite us to stay with her?” said Sarah with a direct look. “It seems to me that we are something of a nuisance to our grandmother.”
