by Gayle Buck
* * *
Chapter 10
The next morning Lady Alverley’s small gathering was reported in The Morning Post, which so pleased her ladyship that she decided to get out of bed at once and dress. She sailed downstairs to the breakfast room, the newspaper clutched triumphantly to her bosom. Her appearance surprised her granddaughters and Miss Hanson.
“Grandmama! I did not think that you ever came downstairs before luncheon,” said Margaret.
Lady Alverley requested a cup of tea and dry toast from the butler and sat down at the breakfast table. “No doubt, my dear. However, I could not delay in telling you the good news. Already we are noticed.” She read the pertinent piece aloud, and when she had finished, she looked up, beaming. “Isn’t that simply marvelous?”
“Indeed it is, my lady,” said Miss Hanson with a smile. “Of course, how could it be otherwise? You have always inaugurated splendid parties.”
“Quite true,” agreed Lady Alverley, sipping her tea. “And this Season must be no exception. I must immediately begin to make plans for a grand rout. It will take place after your presentation at court and your come-out ball, of course. Your court presentation will take place next week and your come-out the week after. Have all of our plans been set into motion, Marie?”
Miss Hanson nodded. “I have already engaged the services of the orchestra and ordered the lobsters for supper. The invitations are at this moment on your desk awaiting your signature, my lady.”
“Thank you, Marie. I know that I may rely upon you to see that all is properly done,” said Lady Alverley absently.
Miss Hanson turned quite pink from gratification. “Thank you, my lady!”
“Now the rout... I am not certain exactly what date I should choose. Marie, you must help me to decide, for you know my calendar even better than I do,” said Lady Alverley.
“Yes, my lady,” said Miss Hanson, nodding.
A note had been delivered a few minutes earlier to Sarah and Margaret and, in fact, they had been discussing its contents when Lady Alverley had surprised them. Margaret now remembered it. “Grandmama, we have been invited by Mrs. Jeffries to a small impromptu musicale which she is holding this afternoon. She says in her note that she has invited a talented singer to entertain her guests. I should like very much to attend the party if you do not object,” she said.
“Let me see the note,” said Lady Alverley, holding out her hand. When Sarah had handed it to her, she perused it swiftly. “A musicale. That sounds innocuous enough. Ah yes, Mrs. Jeffries mentions that Annette Lozanger and Mrs. Philby will be attending. Perfectly respectable!”
“Does not Mrs. Jeffries reside in Sloane Street?” asked Miss Hanson.
“As I recall,” nodded Lady Alverley. “Very well, Margaret. Though I myself shall not be attending, you and Sarah may go. I have nothing of moment for you this afternoon and I know that you enjoy Mrs. Jeffries’s company.”
“Indeed we do, ma’am,” said Margaret, her blue eyes shining.
“I see that you are wearing your new riding habits. They look well on you both,” said Lady Alverley. “I assume that you will be riding with Mrs. Jeffries this morning. You may inform her then that she may expect you at her musicale.”
“We shall do so,” said Sarah. “Miss Hanson, will you be accompanying us?”
“I think not, Miss Sommers. Though there is nothing more that I enjoy than to listen to a fine singing voice, I do wish to take a look at her ladyship’s calendar,” said Miss Hanson.
“Yes, we must get busy, Marie. I wish my grand rout to be a crowning success,” said Lady Alverley. She rose from the breakfast table. “I shall expect you to join me in my sitting room whenever you have finished, Marie.”
“Yes, my lady,” said Miss Hanson, nodding.
* * * *
Mrs. Jeffries residence in Sloane Street was a respectable address for those who were well-born enough to mingle in society, but not rich enough to command the prestige that someone like Lady Alverley did. Sarah and Margaret entered the town house and looked around curiously. They were standing in a rather narrow hall, with a stairway at the far end. They allowed the porter to take their wraps. Then they were conducted upstairs by a footman attired in fawn-brown livery and shown into the drawing room.
Their entrance was instantly noticed. Mrs. Jeffries welcomed them with warm affection. “My dear Sarah! Margaret! I am so glad that you could come. Is Miss Hanson not with you?”
“Miss Hanson sends her regrets. She was needed by our grandmother this afternoon,” said Sarah.
“What, no chaperone?” Mrs. Jeffries laughed merrily. Her green eyes danced. “This is something, indeed! But perhaps it is just as well. I suspect that my musicale is something quite beside the usual. But come, I shall introduce you to those whom you do not already know.”
Sarah and Margaret were ushered by their hostess into the drawing room. Mrs. Jeffries’s attention was at once claimed by an acquaintance and the sisters waited on her while she made a laughing reply. Sarah had the opportunity to glance around.
The room was full, mostly with younger ladies and gentlemen. Overall the company was a younger set than Sarah and Margaret had met the previous evening, but Sarah already knew many of them from the morning rides with Mrs. Jeffries and her friends. All were well-bred sons and daughters from established families.
Sarah was astonished, however, to see that several of the young men were lying on the carpet at the feet of the young ladies with their heads resting against the sofa cushions. It was a liberal atmosphere Sarah was utterly certain that Lady Alverley would have forthrightly condemned and would have made Miss Hanson turn pale. “Oh my,” she murmured.
Margaret heard her and turned her head. Her own gaze was wide-eyed and wondering. “What do you think, Sarah?”
Sarah shook her head, not daring to reply because Mrs. Jeffries had turned back to them.
“Now, my dear ones, you must meet everyone whom you do not know,” said Mrs. Jeffries. She drew them after her, gaily calling out various names as they proceeded through the room. Several individuals nodded or bestowed a smile of welcome on the Sommers sisters. Here and there a gentleman got to his feet to offer his bows.
Sarah was surprised and even relieved to see Mrs. Philby, whom she knew to be a friend of her grandmother’s. “Ma’am, how glad I am to see you here,” she exclaimed.
Mrs. Philby patted her hand. “I can see that you are. Pray do not look so anxious, my dear Miss Sommers!” She cast an amused glance around them and murmured, “It is not precisely what one is used to, of course, but I see no harm in it.”
“There you are, Sarah. I seem to have lost you for a moment,” said Mrs. Jeffries with a lively glance at Mrs. Philby. “But you have found a friend, I see.”
“Oh, yes. Miss Sommers and I have enjoyed a brief chat,” said Mrs. Philby, graciously waving them on.
“And now I wish you to meet my brother-in-law, Captain Henry Jeffries. He is in the cavalry and has gotten a short leave,” said Mrs. Jeffries. “Henry, pray say hello to my friends, Miss Sarah Sommers and Miss Margaret Sommers.”
A gentleman unwound himself from the carpet. He was very tall. He wore side whiskers and a mustache. His wiry, curly hair was cut in a military crop. He was lean and browned, and when he smiled, the corners of his gold-brown eyes crinkled. His gaze lingered longest on the younger Miss Sommers’s face. Captain Jeffries bowed to Sarah and to Margaret. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My sister-in-law has told me that you are both bruising riders. Perhaps we shall meet in the park one day.”
Sarah had to tilt her head back to look up into the cavalry officer’s face. “I am glad to meet you, Captain Jeffries. I know that Elizabeth is very happy to have you visiting with her.”
Captain Jeffries laughed. “Is she? She has not told me so! According to my sister-in-law, I am a great nuisance.”
“And so you are! My cook despairs of ever satisfying your appetite at any one sitting. As for me, I am always
tripping over your boots or the newspapers that you have flung down beside the chair when you come to see me,” said Mrs. Jeffries, laughing with her brother-in-law. It was clear that there was an easy affection between them.
“Are you staying with Elizabeth for long?” asked Margaret.
“I am not staying with Elizabeth at all,” said Captain Jeffries firmly.
“Oh! I quite thought that she said—” Margaret broke off in confusion, color rising in her face.
“Henry is staying at one of those hotels that cater so shamelessly to the military officers who are on leave. He swears that otherwise he would starve because I am not prepared to kill the fatted ox for him each day,” said Mrs. Jeffries.
“Nothing of the son. I require only to sit down to a well-cooked dinner with a good bottle of wine,” said Captain Jeffries with dignity. He ignored his sister-in-law’s derisive snort. He smiled, his lips curling in an utterly attractive manner. “Fenton’s does very well for me, in any event.”
“Oh, I see that Miss Smythe is ready to sing now. Let us find a place for you to sit, Sarah. Margaret, you may sit here. Henry, have a care for her hem! Sarah, you may share my place with me,” said Mrs. Jeffries.
Sarah turned to follow her hostess once more, leaving her sister and Captain Jeffries exchanging a tangle of apologies and disclaimers. Sarah was amused by the gentleman’s display of gaucherie, for she had thought that Captain Jeffries was extremely sophisticated. However, from the instant that he had trounced on her sister’s hem, he had become almost tongue-tied in Margaret’s presence. And Margaret was not unnaturally embarrassed, her heightened color betraying her.
The singer was dressed all in blue and had a fine voice. She sang several songs accompanied by a harp. The audience applauded each rendition with enthusiasm. It was a pleasant afternoon and when the musicale had ended, Sarah and Margaret took leave of their hostess with assurances that they had enjoyed themselves very much.
Captain Jeffries saw them out to their carriage and helped them inside. “I shall call on you one day, Miss Sommers,” he said, looking at Margaret.
Margaret cast down her eyes, a smile quivering on her lips, but she did not offer a reply.
Sarah glanced at her sister, wondering at Margaret’s rectitude. “Pray do so, Captain Jeffries. We would be delighted,” she said civilly.
Captain Jeffries transferred his gaze to Sarah, his expression surprised. Then he smiled. “Thank you, Miss Sommers.” He stepped back and closed the door of the carriage.
They rattled away. Sarah settled back against the squabs. “Was there ever such a thing! When we first entered the drawing room, I wondered whether it was just the sort of entertainment that we should be attending. But it was a very nice musicale, after all.”
“Oh, yes! I enjoyed myself very much. But I don’t think that I shall disclose to Grandmama just the sort of company that we found ourselves in,” said Margaret “I was never in my life more shocked to see all of those gentlemen lounging on the floor!”
Sarah laughed. “Nor I! I agree with you. Grandmama would not be amused by a detailed description of the company, though of course there was nothing that was truly vulgar. But can you imagine what Miss Hanson’s reaction would have been had she walked in on that lackadaisical company? She would quite possibly have swooned away.”
“I shan’t breathe a word to her, either,” said Margaret, her eyes twinkling.
“Captain Jeffries seemed to be a pleasant gentleman,” remarked Sarah.
Margaret suddenly became inordinately interested in the strings of her beaded reticule. “Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes. It was plain that Elizabeth thinks highly of him,” said Sarah. “But I suppose that he did not make a perfect impression on you, since he trod on your skin.”
Margaret looked up at that. Her face had warmed with remembered embarrassment. “Oh, Sarah! I felt ready to sink!”
Sarah chuckled. “I rather think that Captain Jeffries felt the same.”
After Sarah and Margaret had returned to the town house and put off their bonnets, they were summoned by Lady Alverley. When they entered the sitting room, Lady Alverley waved her hand at the occasional table. “What did I tell you?” she asked in triumph. “There are more than forty invitations delivered today alone, five or six for each day! There is a soiree at Lady Cowper’s, another at Prince Polignazc’s, a private concert in Grosvenor Square, and several routs!”
“My goodness, ma’am. How shall we manage to go to them all?” asked Sarah wonderingly, picking up a few of the gilt-edged cards.
Lady Alverley chuckled. “My dear! As though I shall not winnow out those that are just a shade beneath our notice!”
“Are there any masquerades?” asked Margaret curiously, inspecting the cards in her turn.
“No, of course not! And if there were, I would not take you to them,” said Lady Alverley. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, we have those quite lovely dominoes. I could not imagine where else one may wear a domino,” said Margaret reasonably.
“My lady, I thought that there might be a ridotto or perhaps an evening at Vauxhall with a private party,” said Miss Hanson tentatively.
“Yes, of course. A private masquerade is one thing and quite unexceptional. I was thinking of a public masquerade, which is quite out of the question, naturally,” said Lady Alverley. “We shall be attending Almack’s this evening, by the way. Pray see that you are suitably dressed. Now you may kiss me. I shall not be seeing you again until dinner.”
* * * *
When Lady Alverley and her granddaughters arrived at Almack’s, they found a large company already in attendance. The young misses were gowned in pale colors, as befitted debutantes, and the gentlemen were attired in formal wear. Sarah and Margaret had already been informed that no gentleman, even the Prince Regent himself, was allowed to come through Almack’s portals unless he was wearing the required knee breeches.
Lady Alverley glanced around. “It is a very fair turnout,” she said approvingly. “You will meet a score of eligible gentlemen this evening, no doubt. I will introduce you to a few personages.”
Sarah and Margaret followed in their grandmother’s wake. Lady Alverley took them up to Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, who had the reputation for being the starchiest of the seven patronesses of Almack’s. The two ladies exchanged pleasantries and Mrs. Drummond-Burrell unbent enough to give a gracious nod to Lady Alverley’s granddaughters.
After that hurdle was successfully negotiated, Lady Alverley made a slow circuit of the ballroom, bringing her granddaughters to the notice of everyone with whom she was acquainted. Soon Sarah and Margaret had their dance cards nearly filled. Lady Alverley was shortly able to seat herself with the other matrons and look on complacently as her granddaughters were led out several times onto the dance floor.
The subscription balls at Almack’s were always held on Wednesdays. The dancing was decorous and the refreshments, limited to lemonade and tea, bread and butter, and stale cake, were indifferent. It was a marvel to Sarah that anyone chose to attend at all. However, she recognized that Almack’s had one thing that was prized above all else. Its membership was exclusive and entrance was gained solely through the good offices of one of the seven patronesses. If one was denied entrance to Almack’s, one’s social consequence was considered to be a shade beneath the best of ton.
Margaret struck up immediate friendships with a few of the younger misses, some of whom she already knew, and when she was not dancing, she sat with her new friends and chattered away in the most unconscious style. Sarah also was admitted to the circle of misses, but she was the eldest of them all and so she felt a little out of place. Later she mentioned it to Lady Frobisher, who had come without her husband that evening. “I am a graybeard compared to Margaret and some of the rest,” she said with a twinkling glance.
Lady Frobisher laughed. “I can readily understand. Most of the debutantes are scarcely out of the schoolroom, while for the past two years yo
u have been learning to manage a house. However, I assure you that does you no disservice in the eyes of sober-minded gentlemen, Sarah. I think that you will find it easier to converse with someone like Lord Dissinger or my brother, Lord Eustace, than would one of these chits. The gentlemen have been on the town for long enough to appreciate a level-headed, sensible young lady.”
Sarah made a face. “How boring I sound, to be sure! Sometimes I wish that I was more like my sister. She is never happier than when she is able to throw herself into whatever merriment may be afoot. Since we have been to London, our entire lives have been turned upside down and I have yet to see Margaret at a loss, while I—” She shook her head as she laughed at herself. “Sometimes I feel so uncertain that I scarcely know what to say or do.”
Lady Frobisher took hold of her hand and pressed her fingers. “My dear Sarah! No one would ever guess it, I assure you. Margaret has an effervescent charm that carries her well, but you possess that rarer quality: grace. You are kind and clever, too. I already count you as one of my dearest friends.”
Sarah blushed. “Thank you, Mary. You have no notion how much those words mean to me.” She made reference to something else that Lady Frobisher had said. “Will Lord Eustace be attending this evening? Surely it is getting too close to eleven o’clock to still expect him. The doors will soon be closed.”
“Oh, I don’t expect to see Gilbert here! He has seldom set foot in Almack’s since—” Lady Frobisher stopped. She regarded Sarah for a moment. “I suppose it will do no harm to tell you, for you have probably heard certain rumors already.”
“Do you mean about Miss Leander? I have heard that Lord Eustace was betrothed to her and that she was killed in a tragic carriage accident,” said Sarah.
“Yes; it happened two years ago. My brother was devastated, I think even a little haunted, by her death. No one dared to speak about her to him, even his best of friends, for we could all see how awful it was for him,” said Lady Frobisher. She slanted a glance at Sarah while she played with her fan. “Until Gilbert told me about you and Margaret, I did not think that he would ever begin to show an interest in another lady.”
