She was brought out of her reminiscences when Netta came in with her chocolate. She drank it slowly while the maid tidied the room and brought hot water for her to wash.
'What do you wish to wear today? The sprigged muslin is the only new dress, so if you mean to go out you'll have to wear that.'
'My pelisses, Netta, and my hats. Please get them out, now. I'm going for a drive this afternoon, so what do I have that's suitable?'
Soon the bed was covered with clothes Damaris had discarded. She had taken a sudden dislike to all her hats and bonnets, and now considered her old pelisses were worn and unsuitable for driving in the Park.
'I'm going to ask if Madame de Courcy has finished any more of my gowns, and to see whether I can find a hat I like. Netta, get rid of all these old things. Surely I can find something suitable, even if mine are not ready. I saw they had some clothes already finished.'
She ignored Netta's knowing smile, and an hour later, having been told Mary had one of her disabling headaches and was remaining in bed that morning, she and Netta were on the way to the modiste's in Mary's town carriage, a handsome barouche.
'Miss Hallem, I have just finished a most delightful walking dress in emerald grosgrain, and your dark green pelisse is also ready. I was about to send them round to Cavendish Square.'
'That's wonderful. I will take them with me. Now, you mentioned a milliner. Where can I find her?'
Fifteen minutes later Damaris was entering a small establishment in Bond Street. Half an hour later she emerged with a number of hatboxes containing hats, bonnets, and reticules to match several of her gowns. A short way down Bond Street she found a shop selling shoes, and spent another half hour there.
'Where now?' Netta asked with a sigh. 'There soon won't be room for us in the carriage, with all these boxes and parcels.'
Damaris grinned at her as she pushed aside some parcels to make room to sit.
'Back home, I think I have what I need for the time being.'
*
The Earl of Frayne handed his hat and gloves to the butler, and asked whether Miss Hallem was ready.
'Come to the drawing room, my lord.'
Though behind the butler when they reached the drawing room, Luke was tall enough to see over his shoulder, and observe the startled expressions on the faces of the two ladies there.
The older, Mary Gordon, who was known to him, rose to her feet, and looking rather flustered came to meet him.
'My lord! Do come in. How good of you to call, but I'm afraid Sir Thomas is out. Have you met Miss Hallem?'
'I have had that pleasure. In fact, I came to drive her in the Park. You are not going to disappoint me, I hope, Miss Hallem?'
'No. No, of course not. I will fetch my hat.'
He bowed and watched her as she hurriedly left the room. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair not quite so tightly strained back. In the bright green gown, with a pearl pendant nestling between her breasts, she looked older, and he could not help noticing that her figure was that of a pocket Venus. She was not as dull and colourless as Frank insisted. He thought he was going to enjoy marriage with her after all.
He made inconsequential conversation with Lady Gordon, and could see she was longing to know how he had met Miss Hallem, but was too polite, or disconcerted by his sudden appearance, to ask.
When Miss Hallem came back he nodded in appreciation. The pelisse she had on was close fitting, a rich dark green, and matched by a delightful poke bonnet of the same colour, with ribbons the shade of her gown. The only fault he could find was that when she was sitting beside him he would be unable to see her face.
He bade the still-puzzled Lady Gordon farewell, promised to return Miss Hallem in good time, and led her out to where his groom held two fretful horses harnessed to an elegant curricle. He helped her climb in, took the reins, and told the groom to go home, he would not be needed. Then he set off for the Park, and his companion maintained a silence until they had reached it. His comments about the weather, the singing at the opera, and the horses and people they passed drew no more than grunts or nods. Unable to see her expression, for she kept her face resolutely turned away from him, he decided he had to shock her into looking at him.
'Are you missing your whip, Miss Hallem? Have you repented your apology, and are now harbouring a wish to hit me again?'
She turned to look at him, and he saw a puzzled expression in her eyes. They were very pretty eyes, he found, and her face was charming in a quiet, understated way.
'Who are you?' she asked quietly. 'Mary called you "my lord", but we have not been introduced. She must have assumed I knew.'
'I'm Luke Frayne,' he replied.
'Frayne?' she asked, frowning and with a sudden coldness in her voice. 'You have some sort of title. What is it?'
'I'm the Earl of Frayne, but I beg you won't hold it against me.'
'I see.'
She looked ahead for a few moments, her face again hidden.
'Then it must have been your father who who gambled away Frayne Castle to my grandfather.'
'Yes, it was indeed, when he was very young and exceedingly foolish.'
'I think my grandfather was a similar age, though he had not had the benefit of an Oxford education, and was far from foolish.'
He was about to respond further when he was hailed by a lady driving a dashing high perch phaeton and had to pull up sharply when she drew her carriage across in front of his.
She was blonde, with a voluptuous figure shown to advantage by her close-fitting pelisse. Her lips and cheeks were unnaturally red, and her eyebrows darkened from what Damaris presumed was their natural fairness.
'Luke, my dear, by all that's wonderful. I really thought you had gone out of town, pursuing your matrimonial fortunes, for you have been missing from your usual haunts. You are intending to tie the knot at last, I believe? But I see you suffered some sort of injury to your face. Is that the reason for your unusual reticence. Was it a rival in love, by any chance, my dear?'
Instinctively he raised his hand to his face, then dropped it again. He had seen in his mirror that morning that the mark was by now very faint, and was certain Catherine would not be able to detect it over that short distance. So what did she know, and who had told her?
She seemed to read his thoughts, for she laughed.
'Stanton saw you in White's, but he tells me no one will admit to the cause. But how do you like my new team? Stanton told me he thought blacks suited my colouring better than your greys. Would you like the old ones back? And you can see I am keeping your carriage well polished. I do so like it, Luke, and Stanton was quite happy for me to keep it, he said it saved him from buying me another. He's not at all the jealous type, and he will be out of Town next week. You do have my new direction, I hope? Well, I must not keep these beauties standing. Fare you well, my dear.'
She moved away, and Luke swore under his breath. He heard a strange sound emerging from within the poke bonnet, and Damaris turned towards him, her face brimful of laughter.
'Pray don't heed me, my lord, if you want to curse more forcefully. It will not shock me, as you must know. I have the impression the er, lady was once rather close to you? I confess I do not recall having ever met a bird of paradise before. Is she typical of them?'
For once he found himself at a loss, then rallied.
'Ladies do not mention such things,' he said curtly.
She laughed.
'I am not a lady. I am sure gentlemen prefer them not to talk about such women, and even hope their wives are ignorant, so that their little adventures can be hidden. Don't be concerned, I will not mention it to anyone, though by the familiarity with which she spoke I suspect most of your friends, at least, are aware of her.'
*
Damaris was thoughtful when she returned to Cavendish Square. Neither of them had mentioned Frayne Castle again, and she was uncertain how Lord Frayne felt about her ownership of it, though by the few words he had uttered she suspected he resented it
, and probably her too. She knew, of course, that her grandfather had won it from the previous Earl Frayne, a very long time ago. Luke Frayne had never lived in it, never been able to call it home. And she understood the Fraynes had several more houses, and other big estates. Her grandfather had always followed their family fortunes, and talked about them to her.
He'd once said he felt sorry for the man who had lost the Castle to him, but he'd been a young fool, throwing away his inheritance, on the road to ruin by drink and gambling.
'I offered to give it back to him, to forget the debt, but he just swore at me, said a gentleman did not renege on his promises, even if innkeepers did. At least I believe it taught him a lesson, for he retired from London to one of his other estates for some years. Later he married a local girl, and only went to London occasionally, so perhaps it was after all to his benefit.'
Somehow she thought the present Lord Frayne did not share that comforting opinion. Had he sought her out deliberately, when he discovered her identity? Or was it in preparation for some sort of revenge for the blow she had inflicted? She would ask Mary, for she would know the sort of man he was.
Her thoughts were turned away from considering Lord Frayne's feelings when Mary said they had been invited to a ball the following night, and she began to fret that Madame de Courcy would not have finished the first of her ball gowns by then. She laughed a little at herself, at this sudden change from a girl who did not wish to be in London, did not care about how unfashionable her clothes might be, to one who was now concerned in case she would not have the latest fashion in ball gowns for her first major venture into the ton. She resolutely refused to explore the reasons for her change of mind.
Mary was distracted, for little Tommy was feverish, and only asked a few questions about the drive. Luckily, Damaris thought, she did not ask how they had met. She would confess to Bonny's bolting, and Lord Frayne's attempt to help, and hope that would be sufficient to explain the connection. Her other questions about his lordship could wait.
To her relief a ball gown was delivered to Cavendish Square the following morning. It was a heavy satin, blue, a rich shade the colour of hyacinths, and embroidered with silver thread in a panel down the back and round the hem. There was a silver gauze shawl to go with it, and she had matching blue satin sandals. The sleeves were short and puffed, and the neckline far lower than anything Damaris had previously worn. Netta arranged her hair in the new style which Mary's own hairdresser had devised, and insisted was right for her. It was a short cut which had, to her surprise, allowed it to curl at the ends. Netta approved her gown saying she would not wish to look dowdy with a high neckline, and she went down to wait in the drawing room for Mary.
'You are right to wear those diamonds your grandfather gave you on your sixteenth birthday,' Mary said. 'If you were younger they would be too much, but they are perfect with that gown.'
That was his last present to her before he died, and Damaris had never before worn them. Somehow, it seemed appropriate on this, her most public debut, which he had so much wanted for her.
'How is Tommy?' she asked. Mary had just been to check on him.
'Sleeping, and he seems much better. Nurse is certain he is not developing the measles, so I can enjoy myself tonight, introducing you to more of my friends.'
Damaris, to her surprise, found she was actually looking forward to the ball. It was, of course, nothing to do with the probability that Luke Frayne might be there, and might even ask her to dance. She was intrigued to watch more of the ton's behaviour. She had seen them paying calls, walking and driving in the Park, and at the opera. Now she would see them dancing.
She recalled her thoughts on first coming to London that she would watch and be amused. She had not anticipated much other enjoyment, and was somewhat surprised at her reactions. It was intriguing to watch the behaviour of these fashionable people, and she was unexpectedly pleased to wear her own new clothes, and know how much they improved her appearance.
The ball was at a large house in Grosvenor Square and Damaris, with Mary and Sir Thomas, waited in a line for all the other coaches to draw up by the portico that had been erected over the red carpet. Eventually they were able to enter the house, climb up the wide staircase, greet their host and hostess and the girl whose presentation ball it was, and move on into the ballroom.
Mary knew many of the people there, and soon Damaris found her dance programme more than half full. On consideration, she decided not all her partners had asked her out of duty, because they had been introduced, unless they concealed it very well. She was distracted, however, watching the entrance in the hope of seeing Lord Frayne, and hoping he might ask her to dance before her card was quite full. She dared not presume and keep some dances for him, and watched in resignation as the spaces were filled.
What a change, she thought, from her initial expectations of the Season. She had resented having promised her grandfather she would come, longed for the time to pass quickly, did not expect to enjoy any of the social events, and did not care a jot about her clothes and whether she was well-dressed and fashionable. And the change, she freely admitted to herself, was due to a man she had attacked and abused, and whom her family had deprived of one of his estates. Though she had instinctively liked him, especially when he had been so forgiving about her attack, her feelings were confused. How did he really feel about his father's loss of Frayne Castle? Did he really bear no grudge about the blow she had inflicted? It did not seem likely. She wanted to know him better, but was wary because she could not discern what he thought of her.
Of course her grandfather had won the Castle fairly. She did not dispute that. Many estates changed hands through the reckless gambling of the owners. But few, she suspected, had passed from the hands of an aristocrat to those of a humble innkeeper.
The card games which had brought about this change had taken place when the other Earl had stopped for the night at her grandfather's inn, on a lonely stretch of the Yorkshire moors. Finding no one else there to play with him, since his brother, with whom he was travelling, was suffering from a severe cold and insisted on going straight to bed, he had commanded Frederick Hallem to play. He had not been drunk, grandfather had always promised her. Not until after he had staked Frayne Castle against the inn, and lost. Then he had slumped in his chair and drunk brandy, refusing to listen to advice to go to bed, until grandfather had carried him upstairs and put him there.
What would her life have been like had this fateful game of cards never taken place? Grandfather would not have married a rich merchant's daughter, so her father, and she, would not have been born.
Her musings were cut short when Lord Frayne suddenly appeared at her side and took the dance programme from her grasp.
'You have not kept any dances for me,' he said. 'Never mind, Frank will not object if I steal you.'
He crossed out a couple of names and inserted his own initials.
'My lord! You cannot do that!' Was he deliberately causing her to offend this deposed partner?
'I have done it. But do tell me, do you have some particular fondness for Frank Willett? If so, forgive me, and I will scratch out someone else.'
'I've only met the man once,' she said crossly, 'but how am I to explain what you have done? He will be annoyed.'
'You need not fret, my dear Damaris, I will inform him myself.'
She was torn between anger at his arrogance, and his use of her first name, not to mention that casual endearment, and before she could decide which to object to first he had gone, the musicians struck up for the first country dance, and her partner was standing before her.
***
Chapter 4
Damaris was sitting beside Mary some time later, in between dances, when she realized Lord Ryecot was standing beside her, talking to a very pretty blonde girl who could be no more than sixteen. He had discarded the sling he had worn at Mary's dinner party.
'We would, of course, be winning far more battles in the Peninsula if the
advice of those officers who were actually doing the fighting was accepted,' he was saying.
'Mama said you have been wounded,' the girl said a little breathlessly. 'Did it hurt a great deal?'
'A soldier has to accept a few wounds. This was by no means the first time I had received a sabre cut or gunshot wound. It was more serious this time, but I did not wish to be sent home. I could have done my bit even with one arm incapacitated. The commanders need all the experienced officers they can find, and I flatter myself I am one of the most successful.'
Damaris smiled to herself. He was repeating almost word for word the few comments he had vouchsafed to address to her during dinner. If he were so much better he could dance, why did he not take himself back to the war, where he could be so very useful?
'Then I expect you will be going back soon,' the girl said. 'The army needs men like you.'
'One has to obey orders, however unwelcome and inconvenient they are. I have been told to remain in England for a few more weeks. It is ridiculous, I am needed there, but will they listen to my pleas to be sent back? I am weary of asking.'
At that moment he turned to watch a woman crossing the room, and saw Damaris. For a few seconds he looked blank, and then turned swiftly back to his young companion. He had, Damaris was sure, recognized her, but chose to ignore her. The discourtesy merely reinforced her view of him as a pompous windbag, and she hoped his superior officers ordered him back to the Peninsula as soon as possible.
*
Francis Willett was leaning against a pillar at the doorway of an anteroom when Luke found him, surveying the dancers with a somewhat sardonic expression.
'Frank, my dear friend, how good to see you.'
'What do you want now? I know that tone of voice and it bodes ill for me.'
'I have done it, I just needed to inform you. I have stolen your dances with the Hallem chit.'
Francis raised one eyebrow, then grinned at his friend.
Marriage Gamble Page 4
