‘I should like to meet them. If none of you is desperate to marry, in our world, that makes you exceptional,’ Temper retorted.
Just then one of the pursuing riders caught up with them. Though sorry to have her informative tête-à-tête with Miss Henley brought to an end, Temper was relieved to recognise the gentlemen, without requiring any prompting.
‘Lord Theo, good afternoon,’ she said, nodding. ‘Miss Henley, I believe you have met this gentleman. I’ve been delighted to discover, Lord Theo, that Miss Henley is another of those singular females who says what she thinks and does not hold with flattery.’
‘Another forthright lady who disdains flattery and says what she thinks?’ Lord Theo said with a smile. ‘I must add you with Miss Lattimar to the list of females whom I shall seek out to dance and converse with.’
‘And what a very long list that must be,’ said a coquettish voice from the direction of the Henley carriage, which they had nearly overtaken. Temper looked over to discover the speaker was Miss Avery, who had turned in the saddle to give the Marquess’s son a flirtatious glance as Temper’s group approached.
Temper felt herself stiffen again. Had the girl eyes in the back of her head—or just an ear tuned to pick up the sound of any gentleman’s voice? Must she claim the attention of every man who came within speaking distance?
‘You mustn’t credit anything Lord Theo tells you, Miss Henley,’ Miss Avery continued in a playful tone that grated on Temper’s nerves. ‘He is the most shameless flirt!’
‘I protest, Miss Avery, you are unfair,’ Lord Theo replied—giving no sign, Temper was pleased to note, that he felt inclined to respond to the girl’s overtures, despite the fact that even Temper had to admit Miss Avery was quite pretty. ‘How could one not wish to make himself agreeable to charming females? But I’m afraid another appointment claims my attention and I must go. Ladies.’ Giving them a short bow, he turned his mount and rode off.
After casting another smile in the direction of Lord Theo’s retreating figure, Miss Avery turned to Miss Henley. ‘If you would allow me to offer a word of advice? Though he is exceedingly charming, Lord Theo has quite a sad reputation as a rogue. As you do not possess the...ah...striking form and great fortune Miss Lattimar does, your behaviour—and your choice of companions—must be more circumspect.’
Furious, Temper had no trouble interpreting the veiled innuendo. ‘You mean she would be wiser to avoid his company—and mine.’
‘Your large dowry and acknowledged beauty may continue to make you acceptable—to some gentlemen—regardless of your conduct, Miss Lattimar,’ Miss Avery replied coolly. ‘But I should hate to see poor Miss Henley pulled along by you into some...indiscretion.’
Though Temper could have cheerfully throttled the Avery chit for her demeaning attitude towards Miss Henley, her new friend seemed neither upset nor cowed. ‘I thank you for your concern, Miss Avery. However, my lacklustre reputation might be enhanced by a bit of scandal.’
‘Oh!’ Miss Avery replied. ‘I meant no offence. Only to protect you, as your mama—’ she cast a significant glance at the carriage, where Lady Henley was laughing at some sally made by one of her escorts ʻ—seems to frequently be too...preoccupied to offer guidance.’
‘And just what would you consider “scandalous”, Miss Avery?’ Temper asked though clenched teeth.
‘With you, Miss Lattimar, I can hardly dare imagine! I don’t expect you would go as far as to actually...consort with gentlemen, as your mother does. But being such an excellent rider, you might decide to show off your form and figure—riding past the gentlemen’s clubs on St James’s Street, perhaps?’
Though Temper admitted she’d taken a dislike to the girl the moment they’d met, having limited herself to exchanging only innocuous comments with Miss Avery, she wasn’t sure why the girl was being so unpleasant.
With a minute shake of the head to silence Miss Henley, who by the annoyed expression on her face was about to intervene with some plain speaking, Temper said, ‘I must make sure to add riding down St James’s Street to the list of enjoyments I wish to experience before I quit London. Miss Henley, thank you for the ride. Mr Newell,’ she called to Giff, interrupting the conversation of the group around Lady Henley, ‘are you not due back at Parliament soon for a meeting?’
Giff took one look at what Temper could feel was the heightened colour on her cheeks and made a show of checking his pocket watch. ‘Goodness, you are right! I must hurry to escort you home, else I shall be late. Lady Henley, gentlemen, young ladies, you must excuse us. You are ready, Miss Lattimar?’
‘More than ready,’ she snapped, barely waiting for him to make his farewells before signalling her mount to a trot.
Giff had to spur his horse to catch up. ‘Why the hurry?’ he asked as he drew even with her. ‘And what happened to put you in such a fury?’
Temper had to damp down her anger to reply in an level tone. ‘Miss Avery—whose offensive remarks irritated me so much, I feared I would not be able to remain civil if I had to suffer her presence a moment longer! I certainly hope you haven’t taken a liking to her, for I find her to be the most annoying, wasp-tongued female I’ve yet encountered! I could understand, even forgive, her animosity to me—perhaps, with my large dowry, she sees me as a rival for gentlemen’s attention. But she has no reason to be so dismissive of Miss Henley!’
Giff looked surprised. ‘Miss Avery, wasp-tongued? She seemed pleasant enough to me—if putting herself forward a bit too much for my taste. She’s very pretty, I’ll allow, but a gentleman likes to think he’s the one making the overtures—no matter how cleverly the lady manoeuvres him into it.’
‘I hope you won’t be making any overtures to her!’
‘Believe me, I have no plans to.’
Feeling better now that she’d vented her anger—and discovered Giff had no liking for the girl—Temper said, ‘I’m sorry to have pulled you away so abruptly. Though I wager you are not all that disappointed to end a meaningless social encounter and return to Parliament, where you can turn your hand to something important.’
‘There actually is a meeting this afternoon. With any luck, I shall catch the last part of it.’
‘Concerning one of your reform bills? Christopher told me two of great interest may come to a vote this session. One banning slavery, the other looking to limit the hours children can work in factories.’
‘Yes, and both are dear to my heart,’ Giff said, his eyes lighting with enthusiasm. ‘Especially the factory bill. I took part in some of the inspections done by the committee gathering information for the proposed bill and the plight of some of those children is dreadful!’
‘Those poor babes. Bravo to you and the reformers for being determined to help them.’
Giff nodded. ‘We try to do what’s right. Englishmen may need cloth—but they don’t need to obtain it over the exhausted bodies of innocent children.’
Listening to the passion of his words, Temper felt a surge of pride in the work he and other reformers were doing. Lady Sayleford—and her sister, Pru—were right. There were gentlemen in London who were both honourable and compelling.
In fact, she felt a renewed pang of guilt for getting Giff tangled up in her Season, forcing him to dance attendance on her and taking him away from business that truly mattered. Though she would sorely miss his company, if he were to suspend his escort, Temper realised. She was enjoying even more than she’d anticipated having the companionship they’d experienced off and on through the years become an almost daily event.
Still, conscience prompted her to ask, ‘Are you sure you don’t want to dispense with this escort nonsense and concentrate on Parliament? I feel I’m wasting your time, dragging you to meaningless society events.’
‘You are an important work, too,’ he said, smiling.
She felt a ridiculous little spurt of pleasure that he would think
her important and quickly squelched it. ‘I have a sponsor and a chaperon to guide me through something whose greatest threat to my security is probably boredom. Those factory children have just a few visionaries like you trying to provide them far more essential protections. I really ought to insist that you give up on my Season.’
‘What, you’d urge me to jump ship and have Lady Sayleford hunt me down, like a press gang searching out deserters? It’s more than worth missing a few meetings to avoid incurring her wrath. Besides, we don’t expect either bill to be ready for a vote before summer. And there’s a special treat for tonight—one you will actually be enthusiastic about.’
‘A social event I’ll be enthusiastic about?’ she asked dubiously.
‘Lady Sayleford sent me a note, informing me we’re to attend the theatre tonight.’
‘Truly?’ Temper cried, the promised treat wiping away the last vestiges of her irritation. ‘I’ve been so looking forward to attending! Finally, something about this obligatory Season I can actually enjoy.’
‘I thought you’d be excited. Well, here we are, back at Vraux House. Go select your prettiest evening dress. I’ll join the ladies in Grosvenor Square and pick you up this evening.’
‘Thank you, Giff, for sending me off with something you knew would brighten my day,’ Temper said as she jumped down from the saddle and turned her horse over to the groom. ‘It’s daylight and Overton has already opened the door for me, you needn’t dismount. This stray package can complete her delivery unaccompanied.’
‘Just this once,’ he said, chuckling. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’
The theatre! she thought with delight as she climbed the stairs. She didn’t even care which play they were to see. She’d always loved amateur theatricals and couldn’t wait to attend her first professional London production.
Not that most of theatregoers would be there to watch the performance. Haymarket, Convent Garden and Drury Lane were second only to the Promenade Hour in Hyde Park as the place the members of the ton frequented to see, be seen and gossip.
She only hoped Miss Avery wouldn’t appear there, too, to mar her enjoyment.
Chapter Ten
As he ushered the ladies to their box later that evening, Giff had to smile. Temper had certainly followed his advice. Wearing a gown of deep gold silk embroidered with little silver stars that sparkled like the diamonds at her ears and throat, her face vibrant with excitement in the bright gaslight, she was magnificent.
She’d been enveloped in her satin evening cloak when he’d called for her at Vraux House. But even he, armoured as he tried to be against her beauty, had caught his breath when she removed her cloak and he beheld her in that gown.
Good thing he was going to stand guard tonight. Sitting on display beside Lady Sayleford and Mrs Moorsby in their box, Temper was going to draw male eyes like shavings to a magnet. They would be thronged with gentlemen wanting to meet her.
Despite Temper’s scepticism, he thought it likely that some lucky man among all those competing for her attention this Season would succeed in piquing her interest—and earning her affection. Though she was still Temper, impulsive, difficult to manage, quick to say exactly what she thought, she had matured, he noted. She’d shown an ability to control her volatile temper and could even sometimes mask her feelings. He also appreciated her genuine concern for his Parliamentary work.
But though she hadn’t created any fireworks among the ton yet, he didn’t expect that period of tranquillity to last. She’d never be a conventional lady, an obedient, conformable wife—or the serene, diplomatic hostess a politician needed at his dinner table.
Still, he had to fight the possessive feeling that assailed him whenever another gentleman claimed her as a partner for a dance—or a ride, he thought, remembering her laughing with Lord Theo in the park this afternoon.
Of course he felt...protective. He was her brother’s best friend, had watched her grow up. It would be hard to let her go to someone else, but eventually he must steel himself to watch that happen. He swallowed hard against the sinking feeling that thought evoked.
As for the passion she stirred so readily—well, the little girl he had watched grow up was now a desirable woman and he wouldn’t be male if he didn’t find her alluring. As long as he didn’t act on the passion she inspired, the attraction he couldn’t suppress wouldn’t be a betrayal of her trust—or Gregory’s.
He heard the ripple of murmurs moving like a wave though the audience as the ladies took their seats, saw a hundred pairs of eyes turn towards their box. Yes, he would play the watchdog, keep the ne’er-do-wells away and make sure, when she did give her hand and heart, they went to a man worthy of her.
Bleak as that prospect appeared.
‘Well, child, is it everything you had imagined?’ Lady Sayleford’s voice broke into his thoughts.
‘Yes, ma’am, it’s wonderful!’ Temper said, her voice awed as she gazed around the theatre. ‘The beautiful domed ceiling, the rich red velvet of the curtains, the vast array of gaslights! Thank you so much for bringing me tonight. I can’t wait for the performance to begin.’
‘The melodrama to follow may be a bit silly, but I think you’ll enjoy the play. The present actors don’t rival Kean, Kemble or Siddons in their day, but are competent enough.’
Although the murmur of voices scarcely lessened, actors took the stage and the play began. ‘Don’t let anyone into the box until intermission,’ Lady Sayleford told Giff. ‘I want Miss Lattimar to be able to enjoy the performance before she is pestered by gentlemen’s attentions.’
And so, one eye on the stage and one on the door to the box, Giff alternated between glimpsing the action onstage, warding off strolling gentlemen who mimed their request to enter—and watching Temper. He couldn’t help but smile at her rapt expression as she followed the action of the play, her eyes shining, her lips curved in a half-smile of delight. No feigned boredom for her, or indulging in gossip with her chaperon about the notables in the boxes around them—just complete, enthusiastic enjoyment, displayed as openly as the child she’d once been.
No, she’d never be moulded into displaying fashionable manners. And he was glad of it.
* * *
At length, the interval arrived and Giff could no longer refuse the press of visitors demanding entrance. First to push his way inside was Lord Theo. Despite an instinctive resistance to him, Giff had no good reason to bar the man from entering.
‘You may put away the dagger, Newell,’ Lord Theo said sotto voce. ‘I mean her no harm.’
‘See that you do not,’ Giff said curtly, further aggravated by the man’s amused chuckle as he passed by him, a uniformed gentleman in tow.
‘Ladies, how magnificent you look! You are enjoying the performance? Lady Sayleford, would you allow me to present this officer?’ At her nod, he continued, ‘Let me make known to you Lieutenant James Masters, of the Queen’s Royal Second Foot, presently back from India on leave. Lieutenant, Lady Sayleford, Miss Lattimar and Mrs Moorsby.’
After bows and nods were exchanged, Lord Theo turned to Temper. ‘Having heard you have a desire to travel to foreign places, I thought you would find Lieutenant Masters’s conversation of interest.’
‘Indeed, I would!’ Temper said, her eyes lighting with enthusiasm. ‘How kind of you to bring him by.’
‘Lady Sayleford, would you tell me and Mrs Moorsby about other versions of this play you have seen performed...perhaps by the great Kemble himself? While those two chat about overseas adventures.’
‘Certainly. Miss Lattimar, you may use this opportunity to ask the Lieutenant all the question you like.’
Giving Temper a wink, Lord Theo helped rearrange the chairs, taking a seat beside the Dowager Countess while Lieutenant Masters claimed one beside Temper. Giff, moving his chair to the rear of the box, settled back to keep watch. Though officers in his Majesty’s army were
usually gentlemen, he’d make sure this newcomer knew how to behave around a lady.
A necessary caution. Because he couldn’t count on Temper, enthralled to speak with someone who’d actually been to one of the foreign lands she dreamed of exploring, to display any reserve at all.
‘Welcome back to England, Lieutenant! I’m sure you must be pleased to be home among family and friends,’ she was saying.
‘Indeed, ma’am. A welcome break from the heat and dust!’
‘Would you be so kind as to tell me more about your life in India? I would so much like to visit the country! My brother found me a copy of Godfrey Charles Mundy’s Pen and Pencil Sketches, made during his time as ADC to Lord Combermere. Such enthralling scenery, and such charming glimpses into the life—“Dak travelling” and “Tiger’s attack on the Elephant”.’
‘Mundy published his journal? I hadn’t heard of it.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘If it’s an accurate picture of the place, it should tell of monsoons, vipers and attacks by dacoits. Not something, I think, to interest such a beautiful lady. Lord Theo warned me you were enchanting, but the reality far exceeds his description. How delighted I am to make your acquaintance! I hope I shall see more of you while I’m home on leave.’
Giff read the disappointment in Temper’s eyes and suppressed a grin. He needn’t worry about the lieutenant or his intentions. Most females would have asked about the lieutenant’s service out of politeness and been delighted to move on to expressions of gallantry. But by turning aside the subject of her real interest, the man had just squandered his opportunity to make a favourable impression on Temper.
With a wry grimace that seemed to say she’d resigned herself to not receiving the first-hand account of India she’d hoped for, Temper nodded. ‘I’m sure all the London ladies will try to make a returning hero feel welcome,’ she said politely, her voice, to Giff’s practised ear, markedly devoid of the enthusiasm she’d shown earlier.
The Earl's Inconvenient Wife Page 11
