“I am an American, actually. My name is Miss Virginia Livingstone.”
“And I am Miss Arabella Saunders. You have probably heard of my brother. Everyone calls him Beau, but he is Viscount Wellingham.”
Saunders! Any connection to the Saunders she had met on the voyage? Unlikely, surely.
“I have arrived in London only recently, Miss Saunders. But it is lovely to meet you.”
“May I recommend another anonymous lady author to you? She is a friend of mine. Her latest book is The Curious Affair at Staley-in-the-Wold. It is a bit like the books by the author of Pride and Prejudice, only more humorous. In a very dry way, of course.”
Virginia grew animated. “You know the author? How exciting! What is she like?”
The little blonde replied eagerly, “She is very extraordinary. I cannot say much, or you would recognize her. But she is deeply involved in charity work, a gifted musician, and one of the kindest people I have known. She ranks very highly in society since her marriage, but she is not at all unapproachable.”
“She sounds brilliant,” said Virginia. “And how kind of you to speak to me. As yet I know few people in London. Were you at Lady Fotheringhill’s ball the other night?”
Miss Saunders made a face. “I am not yet out, unfortunately.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “I must live my life in the pages of my books. That is why I am such a great reader.” She laughed and continued, “I am with my governess, Miss Graham, today. Come, I will introduce you. She is probably looking at atlases. She longs to travel someday.”
“I would be happy to meet her.”
Miss Graham proved to be a tall, awkward woman of middle age. Virginia’s heart went out to her immediately. Obviously she had never married and had been forced into this situation of servitude—really the only one for women of gentle birth and little means here in England. Fervently grateful that she herself had a fortune coming to her when she was of age, Virginia greeted the woman kindly.
“Your pupil and I have been having a wonderful chat about books,” Virginia said.
“Oh! You are an American!” said Miss Graham. “I do so want to go to America! I want to visit a plantation as well as New Orleans.”
“I grew up on a cotton plantation,” Virginia said.
“Oh, how romantic! You are from the South, then?”
“Yes. From the Commonwealth of Virginia. But I have never been to New Orleans.”
The woman leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Forgive me if I am asking an awkward question, but I am dying to know. How do you happen to be in England with the war between our two countries?”
Virginia drew a deep breath. Surely the woman was impertinent? “Personal reasons make it a necessity,” she said. “I am visiting Lord and Lady Ogletree.”
The governess’s eyes were full of speculation, and Virginia knew she wanted to ask how she had traveled to England with war raging on the high seas. As she was sworn to secrecy on the subject, Virginia changed topics.
“Miss Saunders says you long to travel. Where else would you like to go?”
The governess said, “I know it is probably impossible, but I wish to see Egypt and India.”
“So do I,” said Virginia truthfully. “I should really like to go even farther abroad—to China.”
Miss Saunders interrupted in her bubbling manner, “You should meet my brother’s tutor from Oxford, Miss Livingstone. He has traveled all over the Far East. Even Japan.”
Before Virginia could frame a reply, the girl continued, “I say, I would love to go for an ice at Gunter’s. Have you been to Gunter’s yet? Have you ever had an ice?”
The impetuous girl was charming, but Virginia guessed she must be a handful for her governess. “No, I haven’t. What is an ice?”
Miss Saunders’s eyes sparkled. “You shall see. They are absolutely divine. The next best thing to heaven.”
“I must pay for my purchases,” Virginia said. “And collect my maid.”
* * *
Gunter’s proved to be a high-ceilinged, bright tea shop—a perfect beehive of activity. At this hour it was filled with ladies and gentlemen eating a frozen confection served in tall fluted goblets. Curious, Virginia ordered a raspberry ice for herself and a lemon for her maid, whom she insisted should sit with them at their table. She knew it was probably scandalous, but she couldn’t bring herself to send Sarah off by herself in a corner. Miss Saunders and Miss Graham didn’t seem to mind.
Virginia’s first taste of her ice was blissful. “Oh, my. This is divine. In fact, there should be an even higher superlative for it. What a marvelous invention!”
“I am so glad I could be the one to introduce it to you,” said Miss Saunders.
Miss Graham bade her tell them what life on a plantation was like. Virginia, always sensitive on the subject of slaves, managed to avoid the topic and dwell instead on her former day-to-day life. “I imagine it is very much the same as life on an estate here,” she said. “We grow . . . grew cotton. I had a governess and a horse I adored. My father and I used to ride in the steeple chase. We also had fox hunting.”
“It does sound much the same,” said Miss Saunders.
“There is actually a big difference,” said Miss Graham.
Virginia winced, knowing what she was about to say.
“We have tenant farmers,” the governess said. “The Americans have black slaves from Africa.”
But Miss Saunders wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fixed on a grand-looking couple making their way toward them. “Oh, look, our friend the Duchess of Ruisdell has seen us. She is coming over to our table!”
A strikingly beautiful woman with black hair and dark-blue eyes stopped next to them, accompanied by an elegant gentleman with a quizzing glass dangling from his watch chain. His eyes were crinkled with delight at spying Miss Saunders.
Oh, dear. A duke, of all people. I have never thought to meet an actual duke.
Virginia noticed that Sarah was suddenly uncomfortable. “I will wait for you outside, miss,” she said and swiftly left the table. She may not be a slave precisely, but she was taught to act like one.
Looks of concern puckered the duchess’s brows, but she mercifully said nothing about Sarah’s departure.
“My darling Arabella,” said the black-haired woman. “I pray you will introduce us to your friend. I have not met her before.”
“Indeed I shall, Your Grace,” said Miss Saunders, rising and giving the woman a small curtsy. “Miss Livingstone, I have the honor of presenting the Duke and Duchess of Ruisdell. Your Graces, this is Miss Livingstone, from America. This is her first visit to Gunter’s!”
Unsure what she should do, Virginia rose as well, offering her best curtsy. Words froze in her throat.
“How lovely to meet you!” the duchess declared. Turning to her husband, she said, “Is this not the young lady you were inquiring about at luncheon yesterday, my dear?”
“I don’t understand,” said Virginia. “Your Grace was inquiring about me?”
“I was taxed with the job of learning about you for my friend Viscount Strangeways. I believe you met him at Lady Fotheringhill’s ball?”
The news of Lord Strangeways’s interest pleased and panicked her at the same time. Even before the incident with Mr. Hale, she had been drawn to his warm golden eyes and attractively crooked smile. Most of all, he was kind when she hadn’t expected to find kindness. But Aunt Lydia would not be pleased Virginia made an impression that brought her to the attention of a duke and duchess. The two of them were not at all what Virginia had expected when imagining English aristocracy. She had never thought to find friendliness in such a quarter.
“Shall you join us?” Miss Saunders asked the duchess. “You remember my governess, Miss Graham?”
The tall spinster had been standing throughout and offered a curtsy.
“Yes, Miss Graham. It is lovely to see you again,” said the duchess. Her husband seated her, and they all followed.
“I underst
and you have some connection to Lady Ogletree?” the duchess inquired of Virginia.
“Yes. She is my aunt.”
“I do not know the lady well, but her husband is a friend of the duke’s, is he not, my dear?”
The woman’s smile was full of warmth. The duke and duchess acted genuinely interested in Virginia and fond of Miss Saunders.
The duke answered, “Yes. Since he came into the barony, your uncle has been a member of my club, but I do not see him there often. After all his years at sea, I believe he is not fond of Town life.”
“You are correct,” said Virginia. “I am sad to report that he has left for Dorset.”
She was charmed to see the duke accompanying his wife for an outing to the tea shop. Though there were men in abundance, they appeared to be in groups with other men.
“I am so anxious to see your new little marquess,” said Miss Saunders. “Is he doing well?”
“Very well, thank you. You will have to bring Miss Graham and Miss Livingstone and come calling some afternoon.”
Miss Saunders blushed a fiery hue and said, “Oh, dear. I was not angling for an invitation! Beau always says my tongue is all thumbs. I was rather inviting you to call on us!”
“Nevertheless, I should love to see you, dear.” Turning to Virginia, the duchess asked, “Are you here for a long visit?”
“Yes,” she replied, striving to keep the sadness out of her voice.
The duke said, “I hope you will enjoy our country. London society has a few peculiarities, but Dorset is a lovely place.”
“I long to see it,” said Virginia. “I understand it is on the coast.”
“Very scenic,” said the duke. “Cliffs. Crashing waves. Are you a country dweller or city bred?”
“I was raised on a plantation in Virginia,” she told him. “But today I fulfilled one of my dreams. I visited Hatchard’s, where I met Miss Saunders and Miss Graham.”
An animated discussion of books followed. All the ladies appeared to be avid fans of Scott, Blake, Wordsworth, and the author of Pride and Prejudice. The duchess was very enthusiastic about Lord Byron as well.
Virginia saw an amused look in the duke’s eyes as he watched his wife, and she wondered at it. He was obviously smitten with her and not the least toplofty.
“My brother does not approve of Lord Byron,” said Miss Saunders sadly. “But I will be out from under his thumb one day, and I intend to read all of Lord Byron’s works, then. I have heard The Corsair is divine.”
“You will have to come to my next literary luncheon, my dear,” the duchess said to Virginia, her eyes alight. “I have many particular friends who love books as you do. We have a little group and meet from time to time to discuss what we are reading. I am convinced you would enjoy meeting them. And Miss Graham and Arabella, you will join us, of course.”
“How splendid!” said Miss Saunders.
“How very kind,” Virginia said. She was overwhelmed by the attention. Whatever would her aunt say?
“I shall invite your aunt, of course,” the duchess said as though reading her mind. She rose. “Now we must get along to the child. I shall send you all invitations when I have decided upon a date.”
Virginia stood as well. “I cannot tell you how good it has been to meet you both. I am quite overcome by your kindness.”
Surely it was not at all the done thing for a duchess to extend her hospitality in such a manner, especially to one who might be termed an enemy of her country! However, once the duke and duchess were out of earshot, Miss Saunders enlightened her. “I know I absolutely should not tell you this, but I am fairly bursting! Her Grace is the author of that book you bought—The Curious Affair at Staley-in-the-Wold. You must swear not to tell anyone!”
Virginia was stunned. “I was bantering about books with an author? A duchess? Oh, my heavens.”
“She is a very unusual duchess. She was just Miss Edwards when she married the duke. It was a love story that shook the ton. He fought a duel for her, though I am not to mention that either. The duke has been a friend of my brother’s since Oxford days. Part of the reason he is so unstuffy is that he never expected to be a duke. He was serving as a general on the Peninsula when he came into the title. Some kind of peculiar circumstance . . . I have never known the exact details.”
Virginia found the story interesting, but reminded herself never to tell Miss Saunders anything she did not want the world to know.
“My aunt must be missing me by now,” Virginia said. “Thank you for a most thrilling afternoon. You must call on me. I live at Shipley House on Half Moon Street.”
“Oh, I shall do so soon, I promise! Be certain to read the duchess’s book.”
“I am looking forward to it,” Virginia said.
On her way home in the cab, she reflected on what a surprising afternoon it had been. Again she had met English people she could like, in spite of their rank. The blue devils had vanished for the moment, but she decided not to give a full report to her aunt. The woman was bound to be distressed that her American niece had made the acquaintance of a duke and duchess.
Chapter Three
During dinner Tony suggested to his mother that she signal an end to her mourning by calling upon Lady Clarice and Miss Braithwaite.
“Oh, you are so kind to worry about me, dear,” she said, emitting a small sigh. “Your suggestion is a good one. Before your father died, I was well acquainted with both ladies, and they are two of my favorite people.”
He explained about the charity of which they had spoken.
“I shall think about that, dear, I promise. I know you are concerned about me, but I shall come about in time. Right now it is all I can manage to attend the opera tonight. Where is Howie this evening?”
Tony felt his good humor vanish. “He was talking about visiting a new gaming club. I only hope it is a reputable one. He has not far to go before he exceeds his allowance for this quarter.”
“Then he shall just have to rusticate in Kent and miss the rest of the Season,” his mother said. “It is only the beginning of May!”
* * *
When Tony had settled his mother in their box at the opera, he took out his glasses and began to survey the noisy crowd. Though he knew it was bound to happen eventually, he was disturbed to see Pamela and her fiancé sitting in a box across the hall. She was as beautiful as ever with her honey-colored hair dressed high on her head, three ringlets caressing her left shoulder. As though staring straight back at him, she raised perfectly arched brows over her ice-blue eyes.
Quickly switching his glasses away from her, he was unable to take in much of anything else for a few moments. Perhaps he should have read her letter. But what was she doing sending him private correspondence when she was engaged to another man? And not just any man, but his own personal bête noire, the Earl of Sutton. For the next few moments all he saw was a sea of faces.
Then Beau Wellingham and his new viscountess swam into view across the opera hall. So, they were back from their honeymoon. Tony was deuced glad. London wasn’t the same when Beau was gone. His dandified attire masked a keen mind and great physical prowess. Tonight he was a vision in deep maroon with a figured waistcoat. And Tony liked Lady Wellingham. Having had a very short Season before becoming betrothed to his friend, she had not acquired any of the silly affectations of new debutantes.
The first and second acts of The Magic Flute proved humorous and well sung. Anxious to stretch his legs at the interval, Tony asked his mother if she would care to visit the Wellingham box.
“Beau and his wife are back from his estate. You have never met her, but I think you will like her.”
“Charming. I would love to make her acquaintance. Are they the ones who met at dawn in Green Park?”
“Yes,” he replied with a chuckle.
When they walked into his friend’s box, he found that Beau and Lady Wellingham had gone for refreshments, but he was pleased to be met by Arabella, Beau’s sister, whom he had known since
she was in pinafores. His friend had raised her since the death of their parents had orphaned her at age six. Tony was very fond of Arabella.
She blushed when she saw him and rushed to say, “I met a friend of yours at Hatchard’s today! A Miss Livingstone.”
Surprised, he echoed, “Miss Livingstone?” Thinking how unlikely this connection was, he said, “However did you know I had made her acquaintance?”
“Well, it is a roundabout story. I took such a liking to her that Miss Graham and I took her with us to Gunter’s. We were eating ices when the Duke and Duchess of Ruisdell came over to our table. When I introduced them, the duchess remarked that they had been discussing her at lunch—that you had asked the duke if he knew her.”
Tony was abashed that the duchess had disclosed his interest in front of Miss Livingstone. Just then Beau and his bride returned to the box in time to hear Arabella’s rambling explanation.
“What kind of trouble have you gotten into now, Arabella? Good to see you, Tony.”
His friend clapped him on the shoulder, then turned to his sister for an explanation.
“It is all quite innocent, Beau,” she said with a winsome smile. “I met a lovely American lady at Hatchard’s today. Her name is Miss Livingstone. She is Lady Ogletree’s niece.”
“An American in London?” Beau asked. “And how does this involve Tony?”
“I met her briefly at Lady Fotheringhill’s ball,” he said. “I asked Ruisdell yesterday whether he knew anything of her, and he and the duchess apparently met with your sister and Miss Livingstone at Gunter’s. They made the connection.”
“The duchess took to her immediately,” said Arabella. “They talked about books. She invited Miss Livingstone to luncheon to meet with her book group.”
“You talked with her at Hatchard’s and then took her to Gunter’s?” Beau demanded. “An American! You do realize I work for the Foreign Office and that there is a war on?”
“She is not a spy!” Arabella insisted. “You have got spies on the brain!”
This was true. Beau had recently been wounded in pursuit of an enemy agent.
His Mysterious Lady, A Regency Romance (Three Gentlemen of London Book 2) Page 3
