The Late Heiress: The Amberley Chronicles
Page 20
“I don’t mind seeing it through to the end,” Sir Henry said after a moment’s thought. “Parliament is not in session just now. Besides, one tires of everything, even politics, when you do it all the time. This is a welcome change in pace.”
“I shall never be able to thank you enough,” Nell said. “I felt all alone – and now so many people are supporting and helping me. I still cannot fully grasp the change.”
“You will soon get used to it,” Lady Minerva said with a warm smile. “Large families can be exasperating, but when you need assistance of any kind, they have their advantages.”
Chapter 29
Hyde Park was much too crowded for Thomas’ taste. He was looking forward to the evening, when he could meet his wife in more secluded surroundings, away from dozens of prying eyes wherever they turned. Until Nell won her fortune back, he had had no idea how many ‘friends’ he possessed in the capital.
“Congratulations, Seymour.” The sentiment was a common one, but that voice – Thomas turned and perceived Lord Ormesby, correctly dressed for a stroll in the park, an extra tall top hat on his greying head. “I must confess I underestimated you. To seize the main chance so swiftly and securely from the smallest hint is a talent few of my people display.”
“Lord Ormesby,” he said stiffly. “You flatter me.”
“Of course now that you are rich as Croesus you do not need a position with us anymore. How quickly circumstances can change! Though if you are still interested, I could find something special for you…”
“Thank you, no.” Thomas was tempted to give the man his candid opinion of this offer, but that would be futile. He had not forgiven Ormesby for ‘losing’ Nell’s letter. It would be a waste of time to convince this inveterate opportunist that meeting and marrying Nell had been the greatest stroke of luck, and that her fortune had been an obstacle rather than an enticement. Finer feelings or noble sentiments would be a foreign language to Lord Ormesby. Thomas bowed noncommittally and strode onwards, anxious to find his wife.
Rightly considered, Nell’s inheritance still was an obstacle, as it prevented them from departing on their long-anticipated wedding journey to Italy. There were estates to inspect, books to scrutinize, servants to hire or pension off; and the new town house to furnish, though he left that to Nell and the other ladies in the family, who were thoroughly enjoying themselves advising her on every detail.
Besides, in the coming week Nell was to be presented to her Majesty, yet another reason why they could not leave town. A small army of seamstresses were working night and day to prepare the splendid presentation gown, and suitable clothes for all the other social events to which he and Nell were so urgently invited ever since the news of their triumph had been publicised by the Argus and its competitors. Thomas himself spent far too time in consultation with his tailors. Every hostess in London pressed Nell and him to attend their parties. Lady Amberley’s advice was invaluable in deciding which were worthwhile, and which could be safely disregarded.
At least there was no danger of meeting Nell’s villainous uncle when they went out in society. Within days of that meeting in the Ingleby residence Lord Colville had departed on an extended tour of the Americas, expected to last for at least a year.
Lady Colville and her children had not accompanied him.
Thomas had accompanied Nell when she left her card on Lady Colville soon after the earl’s departure. Rather to his surprise, they had been admitted.
Face to face with the Countess, it had not taken Nell long to convince Lady Colville that far from despising her for her trade connections, she had never been given the chance to meet her. The Earl had played on his wife’s insecurity in telling her that Lady Marian was too haughty to tolerate her company. A gifted liar, it would seem … but once the people you had told conflicting lies to finally compared notes, the damning truth emerged.
“I am truly sorry that Colville caused you such troubles, and refused to recognize you until confronted with the evidence,” Lady Colville told Nell at last. “It happened without my knowledge and approval, you may be sure. Though nobody else believes it.” Thomas could easily imagine how the news of her husband’s disgrace impacted Lady Colville’s social life, never brilliant even at the best of times. She must be close to a pariah now.
“My relative by marriage, Lady Amberley, asked me to bring you this invitation to a ball in my honour next week.” Nell handed Lady Colville a cream-coloured envelope, embossed with the Amberley coat of arms. “When society sees that we are meeting and talking in perfect accord, I hope they will understand that my uncle’s actions were not condoned by you. If you need an added inducement, Mr. Roger Ellsworthy is to recite an ode that evening, already anticipated with general mirth.”
Lady Colville had stared at the invitation for a long minute. Finally she sighed. “Tell Lady Amberley I thank her. I will come, – for my children’s sake I cannot remain hiding here in my house.”
“I believe my oldest cousin is fourteen? I would like to meet her.”
The rest of the visit had been taken up with discussion of Nell’s young cousins, and plans to introduce them to her.
But that had been last week. Now his wife was right here, in the park, escorted by a group of their friends, adorned with her smart straw hat and a magnificently decorated promenade dress of light green batiste. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of him. He hoped they always would.
***
Lady Amberley’s ball was a triumph. Though the season was nearing its end and a dozen rivalling events were scheduled that same night, almost nobody had cried off. The whole family was present, - the Ellsworthy, Beecham and Wetherby branches. The Seymour contingent was augmented by Amelia and Charlie, Nell’s sisters-in-law. They had posted down from Yorkshire, arriving just in time, and brought their parents’ congratulations and best wishes. Lady Colville, whose unexpected presence was setting tongues wagging, always had a sympathetic and protective escort at her side. As a hostess, Lady Amberley left nothing to chance.
Nell had practiced dancing with Thomas, and looked forward to her first ball with confidence. A ball that should have been given on her come-out, Lady Amberley assured her, when she was eighteen. But three years late was not so very long.
The more men Nell was introduced to among fashionable society, the surer she became of her choice. Some of the elegant gentlemen vying for a place on her dance card were handsome indeed, but none could compare with Thomas. Would they have instantly come to her aid in Chatterham, on such very short acquaintance? Would they have moved heaven and earth to fight for her rights and safety?
“You have never looked lovelier,” Thomas said warmly as he drew her towards his cousin, who was finally going to declaim his Ode. Roger looked as though he was about to be hanged, poor boy. She had become quite fond of him since that first meeting in Yorkshire, and would have liked to spare him this ordeal.
“Get it over with,” Violet recommended, crossing her arms in front in unladylike fashion.
The buzzing room fell into an expectant silence. Roger convulsively tugged at his collar as though it was strangling him.
The first few lines went,
“Illustrious nymph, triumphant in your fate,
Fleeing from doom with light step and fleet gait,
Your beauty ever shining like a star,
Now home at last, after your exile far….
Roger continued for twelve whole stanzas, each containing a number of fulsome compliments. Nell felt the corners of her mouth twitching and had difficulty keeping her countenance serene at such blatant nonsense. At last Roger came to the end of the verses, and made a deep bow to her. There was laughter and a spattering of polite applause, with many ribald comments on Roger’s lack of talent as a poet. Nell kissed him on the cheek, grinning.
“I could do better than that,” Thomas said critically when she moved back to his side.
“Would you care to show me – what about a small bet? We could each write a
n ode and have Violet judge which is better.”
“No,” he said after a short pause for reflection. “Let’s not get carried away here. Roger’s is enough poetry for our family, for at least the next ten years or so.”
“Good choice.” Nell squeezed his gloved hand. “I believe that is our dance coming up next. I love the waltz. If only my fellow teachers could see me now!”
“They will be able to read all about it in the Society Argus,” he pointed out. It was not customary to admit journalists to social events like this, but in view of the help the Argus had rendered Nell’s cause, Lady Amberley had sent Mr. Selbington three extra cards, to be used at his discretion. A red-haired young man who had been dancing with Lady Amy earlier was one of the Argus gossip writers, according to Thomas.
Charlie appeared at their side, hanging on the arm of young Viscount Ainsleydale. “What a splendid ball! When are you two coming back to Yorkshire?”
“Not anytime soon, I fear,” her brother said. “First we have Nell’s presentation, during the last drawing room of the season, and then we need to pay quick visits to the two English estates. By the end of July, when the town is empty of society, we shall depart for Florence, Venice and Naples.”
“I am already brushing up my Italian, with Miss Minnow’s help,” Nell added. “The first time I shall be leaving England, but I hope, not for the last time. The wide world is out there, waiting for us.”
“How I envy you,” Charlie said. As the orchestra was striking up, her partner whirled her away into the dance, and they followed suit. Nell’s deep blue gown billowed around her feet as she easily followed Thomas in every turn.
“We dance well together,” she said as they came to a breathless stop.
“We do everything well together.” He raised her hand to his face and kissed it. From the gleam in her husband’s eye, she knew he would have liked to do more, but that had to wait until later, till they were private.
“I know.” Were her eyes gleaming in the same way? Did they give away her naughty thoughts? As long as it was only Thomas who saw, she rather hoped so.
Chapter 30
Lady Amberley and Nell sat waiting in the coach on their way to the royal drawing room. Nell was a little nervous. Despite hours of practice she might so easily make a fool of herself, with the unaccustomed long train. What if she fell on her nose in front of the monarch and the assembled court? She would never live it down.
“When did you first meet her Majesty?” she asked Lady Amberley.
“She was not yet Queen at the time, but only a Royal Highness, and fourteen years old,” Lady Amberley recalled. “Her mother travelled to Scotland with her, and they stopped in Amberley for two days. King William was not best pleased at these unauthorized journeys, and I am not sure if the Princess herself enjoyed them, though she graciously complimented us on the location and pleasant vistas of Amberley. At the time she struck me as a perfectly ordinary, cheerful girl, if only she had not been so strictly hedged about.”
“Is it very difficult, to entertain Royalty?”
“It depends,” Lady Amberley said with a reminiscent smile. “Though of course it is a great honour, most hostesses will breathe a sigh of relief once the event is over without a major mishap. You have to be constantly on your guard. The Queen – she was called Princess Alexandrina then, after her godfather the Czar, – was easier to please than her mother, the Duchess of Kent.”
“And how often have you seen the Queen since then?”
“To speak to, or just seen from afar? We were at the coronation, of course, with George in his regalia. It was a splendid occasion. That must have been just around the time when you left your home, come to think of it.”
“I am not surprised her Majesty ignored my letter, if she was busy with that. And she was only eighteen when she first became Queen! It seems unfair that kings or queens attain their majority three years earlier than we do, even though theirs is a much greater responsibility.”
“It is illogical,” the Countess agreed, as the carriage moved a few steps forward and stopped again. “But it makes sense to avoid a regency if at all possible, especially for short periods. Besides, these days it is not as great a responsibility. Their power is no longer wielded directly by the monarch.”
“I wish Thomas were with us,” Nell said. “It would be more comfortable to go together, since he has been bidden to attend also.”
“Yes, since he is a commoner that is a little surprising. Perhaps Prince Albert wants to see what kind of man his distant relative has married. Anthony will look after him, don’t worry.” Lady Amberley’s brother, well known at Court, had taken a friendly interest in Thomas.
“And how often have you presented other ladies to the Queen?”
“Well, Verena and Amy and Violet, Amelia and Charlie, and half a dozen others that needed a sponsor. It was a little different with Queen Adelaide, before Victoria ascended the throne. My own presentation was during the regency, of course. After all these years such occasions are becoming routine for me, but each young lady in turn goes through agonies of apprehension. You look comparatively cool and composed, Nell.” The carriage moved forwards slowly as she talked.
Nell was glad to hear it. Hiding her nervousness behind a cool front ranked amongst a lady’s most important accomplishments.
“I think we are close at last,” Lady Amberley said, and proved to be right, for the carriage came to a stop and the door was opened. Remembering her instructions, Nell left her wrap behind, and descended with the end of her train hooked to her left wrist. It must not snag on the steps. She reached the ground securely, if not very elegantly.
They were conducted to a cool gallery where several other ladies were already waiting, one or two with distinct goose bumps on their arms.
Since the season was almost at an end, most high-born young ladies had already been presented, though the drawing rooms had been interrupted for a while due to the Queen’s confinement – she had given birth to her third child, Princess Alice, in April. Motherhood had greatly increased Victoria’s popularity among her sentimental subjects.
She is just a young woman, no different from me, Nell thought. But there was something about the palace, the stiffness of the guards and footmen, and the nervous tension of the debutantes, that contradicted this notion. Victoria was set apart by the belief of all these people in the importance of her position. It did not matter what she was like as a person; she represented the weight of many centuries of tradition.
More ladies arrived with young girls in tow. The unmarried girls all wore white, except for one in black, who must be in mourning. Nell’s own dress was a dark cream that went well with her brown hair. As a married woman she could wear colours, but the queen preferred light hues.
The trains were spread out with the help of batons. Nell took a deep breath. She had practiced assiduously. She could do this.
Finally it was time. As the daughter of an earl Nell was the highest-ranking lady to be presented on this day, so she was called first. She walked towards the Queen with her head high, until she sank into the required deep curtsey, while she was introduced to her Majesty. The Queen kissed her on the front, as was her custom with ladies of Nell’s rank, and expressed the hope that she would be safer in her future life. The wish sounded sincere, reminding Nell that the queen had been attacked by a madman not long ago, and would never be entirely safe by virtue of her exalted position. Queen Victoria exchanged a few sentences with Lady Amberley, asking after her daughters, before it was time to get up – not easy, from this unnatural position – salute the Prince, who was standing at the Queen’s left hand in his splendid dress uniform, and back away without stumbling over the train or turning her back on the queen.
Once she had completed this manoeuvre without falling, although not as gracefully as she could have wished, Nell looked around for her husband and his own sponsor. It took almost an hour until all the presentations were done, and they were reunited.
T
homas had a very strange look on his face. What could be the matter? It would be more discreet to ask later, where they would not be overheard.
Sir Valentine Richardson, wearing the uniform of a Dragoon Major, materialized in front of them and bade them follow him. Richardson led them to Prince Albert, who was standing with his back to a glass case displaying rare medals, now that the presentations were over. She curtseyed again, and Thomas bowed.
“Lady Marian,” he said with a friendly smile, “I am happy to see you in such glowing health, after the ordeal you have endured.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”
“Has your husband told you yet that the Crown is to bestow a barony on him?”
“No – I had no idea. How very kind,” she said in a strangled voice. Was this the ‘concession’ Sir Henry had meant? She did not know how to feel about it. For a descendant of the de Colvilles, who had been knights well before the Norman Conquest, a newly formed title was as chaff; but her children and grandchildren might enjoy it. And after all, even the oldest title had been shiny and new at some point.
“Seymour has had the good sense and valour to succour you, my young relative,” the Prince continued with a twinkle in his eye.
“It was a pleasure and honour, Your Royal Highness,” Thomas said modestly. “I am already amply rewarded.”
“It was not my idea to claim a relationship that is remote at best,” Nell said to the queen’s husband. “The newspapers did that. I would never presume.”
“I know, yet it pleases me that I have another relative among the aristocracy here, however remote. I wish you good luck in your life together.”
Nell thanked him again, and Richardson led them away.
“A barony?” she whispered as soon as they were out of the royal presence. “Did you have any idea of this?”