A Country Masquerade

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A Country Masquerade Page 4

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk


  Barbara saw no irony in how her attempt to broaden her suitors only brought her firmly back to thoughts of Aubrey St. Vincent. The cursed man never seemed far from her thoughts.

  He’d been too much a part of her existence through the beginning of the season and seemed determined to impress himself on the remainder just as heavily.

  At least she knew he suffered alongside her, if not for the same reasons. With his friend gone, he had no one with whom he could reveal his true nature. The tension must have been plaguing him.

  She only hoped it soon became unbearable and he fled London for quieter climes. Barbara saw little chance of finding someone to warm her heart and tease her mind elsewise with her unable to concentrate on a single word they exchanged with her.

  The music ended, but before she could safely ensconce herself at her mother’s side, another came to claim her hand. The gentlemen to follow seemed neither to mind nor notice her distraction. If anything, it made her more appealing, a fact that soured her against them each and every one.

  Surely London held one man who would not be so swayed by pretty looks that he never saw the person caged within them.

  AUBREY LISTENED WITH HALF AN ear as Lady Emily recounted yet another of her father’s stories about his merchant fleet. He’d been intrigued when first introduced some weeks earlier to find a young lady of quality willing to speak of the trade her father plied when his knighthood failed to bring in enough to support his family. Her opinions on the shipping itself made her stand out among the other debutantes.

  He’d soon learned what had appeared to be thought had been nothing more than parroting whatever her father spoke of across the table, a predilection that became clear when Aubrey chanced to share a game with the man at White’s.

  If anything, it showed her to be a dutiful, attentive daughter because she repeated her father’s tales almost word for word, qualities some might find more appealing than an economic bent to her mind. The man himself tended to restate the same events more than once if they held any glimmer of interest. Aubrey had soon heard the full round of tales, and as such, could not rely on the entertainment of a new gem coming from the girl’s lips either.

  He nodded, even offered a smile, as she told of a silk trade gone well, an account that might have brought suitors with pockets to let that closer to point but he managed his father’s affairs well enough for the St. Vincents to be quite comfortable. Not that he’d had to dig them out of a disaster as Jasper had done when he took over the full title. Aubrey only kept successful estates doing what they did best.

  “And if not for that fortunate storm, the crates of silk would have arrived too late for her ladyship’s wedding. Wouldn’t that have been a disaster?”

  “I doubt the seamen considered a storm to be fortunate. Damage to the ship is costly enough, but lives could have been lost, and most likely were.”

  The girl pouted, an unsubtle reminder that he was not to question a word of her tales, nor expect her to think beyond the confines of her father’s telling. For all she knew, half the crew were swept overboard before the vessel limped the rest of the way into port three days early.

  Isabella put a hand on his arm, a reminder of just why he suffered this girl and all the rest. “I’m sure Lady Emily didn’t mean to be insensitive, Aubrey. It’s just that seamen expect such storms.”

  The lady in question barely gave Isabella a glance despite the support, further irritating Aubrey.

  “Is there anyone you’d like me to introduce you to, Isabella? Mother will call me remiss if she learns you stood to the side all night with nothing but talk of silks to show for your attendance.”

  His sister cast her gaze on the floor and mutely shook her head, the wasted effort to defend having used up the last of her confidence.

  “Come,” he said, tucking Isabella’s arm through his and offering a nod to Lady Emily in lieu of a farewell. “We’ll take a turn around the room and see if we can’t find you a gentleman after all who would give you the chance to put your dance instructor’s training to good use.” Not that she’d had the luck to secure an instructor as talented as Daphne’s. Maybe then his sister would be less retiring around those of the masculine gender.

  Isabella clung to his arm a little too tightly, but he tried not to let it worry him. If only his mother would be well enough to take over this task. Not that he planned to abandon his youngest sister at the first opportunity. He’d stand steadfast at her side as long as needed. But he felt ill-equipped for navigating the complexities of the marriage mart on the part of a young lady, not that he’d been any more successful on his own behalf. Surely she’d do better under another’s tutelage.

  They had come to a halt, ostensibly to admire a decorative tree, when Aubrey realized his sister’s attention had wandered from the chance of shelter behind the greenery.

  Isabella gazed upon the dance floor.

  Cursing his inattention, Aubrey followed her look to discover which of the many young men had caught her eye at last, perhaps well enough to ease Isabella’s crippling shyness so she could have a successful season after all.

  He grunted in annoyance as the path of her gaze led not to a man but to the dark-haired beauty he’d seen holding court at many of these events. The girl never had one man around her but she had four, and he’d heard rumors her admirers almost came to blows on the dance floor over her some weeks past.

  The Whitfeld daughter.

  They’d never been introduced, nor had he seen her close enough to make her out from the crowd, but she stood in his head as an example of all that was wrong with the seasons and coming out.

  Here his sweet, good-natured sister stood against the wall with only her brother for company while men flocked around one woman, dancing attendance in the hopes of being graced with a tale of how she’d purchased the ribbons he could see laced through her curls.

  He caught Isabella’s arm and turned her away. “Don’t trouble yourself. She can only marry one of them, leaving the rest to seek again.”

  That startled a laugh from Isabella, though she brought up both hands to smother it. Her eyes danced with merriment above her fingers. “As though we weren’t all hoping for her cast offs already,” she said in a faint voice. “But no, I wasn’t looking among her suitors. It’s Lady Barbara’s confidence and her ability to navigate this arena that draws my gaze. How I wish I were like her.”

  “Don’t,” he said with a bit more force than intended. “She’s nothing more than a feather hat, all pretty colors and fierce activity. But when you look beneath, it’s an old biddy, sour-faced with nothing to say for herself and no care for how those broad feathers poke anyone foolish enough to venture near.”

  Isabella tapped his arm, her eyes wide with speculation as she studied him. “One might think you hold a grudge against the young lady, brother. Or an inclination. Perhaps we should make our way over to her and get you an introduction.”

  Aubrey deliberately turned his back on the sight and held up a hand to dissuade his sister. “I have little interest in fighting off her entourage or in encouraging gossip about my affairs. She’s proven to be a favorite of the rumor mill already. Besides, it’s not this lady so much as those of her ilk. They’re much the same. Nothing to say for themselves of any importance and counting on their fine looks to make a good catch while girls with more value than could be found in a single ribbon on that dark head are left unnoticed.”

  His sister gave him a sad smile. “Don’t lay my weakness at her feet, Aubrey. From all I’ve heard, she’d be as likely to toss one of her flock in my direction as to leave the bunch to attend me. Why, Hannah can speak no wrong of her, and I would have sworn I saw Lady Barbara give over a gentleman to her care earlier this very night.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not as though she cost herself anything. She could give away half her suitors and still have a dozen more than society and Church would allow.” Aubrey forced his thoughts to his sister, unwilling to let his opinions sour her for this e
vent. “Who is this Hannah you speak of? Surely you haven’t managed to make a new acquaintance with me standing chaperone. I think I would have noticed.”

  Isabella only shook her head, but let him change the direction of their conversation all the same. “I met her at the tea party Mother held last week. She’s getting stronger, don’t you think?”

  “All too eager to have done with me?” Aubrey asked, grateful to leave Lady Barbara behind when, with every word, Isabella found herself lacking in comparison. “And here I thought I’d acquitted myself well.”

  Again his sister shook her head side to side, but the sparkle in her eyes showed humor held sway over concern. If only one of the gentlemen had the chance to see her like this. When facing a man outside of her family, she turned to pale stone. Even Jasper, safely married and not part of this infernal contest, drove her behind her fan and twisted her eloquent tongue into incoherent whispers.

  “You know full well I’m just happy to see her recovering after such a nasty illness. Be careful or I’ll have Mother keep you on through the rest of the season. I know how much you adore parading me around for those few not already partial to another. Or is it all a mask for the truth, which is you standing judgment on those young ladies present as you search for your own to claim? You mock Lady Barbara, but if more of the female kind were like Lady Emily, you’d have your own flock, leaving me pushed to the outside and neglected.”

  Her teasing comments struck a little too close for comfort. Still, Aubrey had no intention of turning this from her season to his.

  Lady Emily might be the bolder, but he’d observed the sideways glances and been introduced by enough eager mothers to confirm his placement in the ranking. He had only to give them the slightest encouragement, and he’d be overwhelmed by those vying for the position of his wife. And not a one among them had the least interest in the man within his fine suit.

  “Enough of this talk, or I’ll do what Mother has told me to and take you over to the nearest gentleman to force an introduction. She does not hold to letting you control your own way.”

  Though she recovered quickly, Aubrey had not missed the look of horror on her face even as Isabella quipped, “And that, my dear brother, is why I’m happy to let her gather her strength and keep you at my side instead.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Barbara, wake yourself quickly.”

  She groaned and batted at the hand shaking her shoulder, but Sarah had never been one to give up and this morning proved no different.

  “Come, Barbara. Your father has sent for you.”

  That drove away the last of her weary state, and she pushed herself upright, her covers spilling over one side in a cascade of cloth. “My father?”

  She glanced toward the window, expecting to find the sun already sinking past its apex. They’d been to a theatrical extravaganza the previous night that ran far into the wee hours of the morning, but still she hadn’t expected to oversleep so grossly.

  A faint grey sky greeted her beyond the lace curtains, the product of overcast that masked all but the hint of a globe still at its height.

  Sarah, looking all too alert for having stayed up to see Barbara safely into bed, gave a soothing smile. “There’s nothing out of place nor reason to worry. Your father just finished with a most promising visitation, and the young gentleman wishes to speak to you.”

  Bemused, Barbara could only stare at her friend as she tried to gather her thoughts.

  Sarah laughed and turned to the wardrobe to choose an appropriate gown for visitors when none of the morning gowns would suit with their unadorned, reclaimed fabric.

  The glimpse of a cheeky smile before Sarah turned away offered the telling clue, and Barbara’s sleep-addled mind finally caught up with the events at hand. “Who is this caller?” For just one fraction of a moment, her thoughts swung to Aubrey before she dismissed it as an impossibility, and an unwanted one as well.

  “How am I to know? I don’t wander about among the peerage. You’ve hardly had time for any activity one such as myself could chaperone of late. He’s a handsome one, though, and well-mannered from what I could tell.”

  Barbara swung her legs free and crossed to give her friend a hug. “You know your company would be as welcome as any had I a choice in the matter. I wish we had more time to spend together.”

  Sarah shrugged with one shoulder, but the blush tainting her cheek told Barbara she’d read the situation correctly.

  “Just you wait until you make your match. Soon you’ll have plenty others to keep you busy, that is if your mother even lets me come with you.”

  A full laugh wiped away any lingering sleepiness despite the short rest.

  Suddenly, Barbara felt ready to take on the challenge of the day and her caller who had arrived close to unfashionably early. “As if Mother would try to separate us now. It’s not like she succeeded when we were younger, and she’d not risk a falling out with her only daughter.”

  “It’s your father who most threatens me at the moment, Barbara. If I don’t get you tidy and down to the morning room quickly, he’ll ship me off to the country estate, never to see London again.”

  Remembering the freedom of the country and pleasures won on childhood visits to her uncle’s holdings, Barbara could hardly consider that a punishment. But she could see the thought had her friend flustered. “I’m up, and you’re an old hand at making me more than presentable. There’s nothing to fear except the purpose for this visit.”

  Sarah shook her head even as she pulled the underdress over Barbara’s shoulders. “As if you had any doubt to his purpose. He might have come earlier than the other two, but he’ll have gotten the same speech from your father and now seeks to ply his case with you. Don’t wait too long to decide among them, or there will be lines out the front door and down the street.”

  Barbara helped smooth the next layer of fabric down, annoyed she’d missed the chance to linger in her lighter garments. “There’s not a thing to distinguish them beyond land and title. I have well enough of both. My father’s estate will go to my children, unlike some entitled only to the male line, and what care I for a shift in my standing.”

  Threading a ribbon through to tame Barbara’s curls in place of a long brushing, Sarah said only, “You’d care if your station lowered through all this.”

  “At least then I wouldn’t be put on show, commanded to parade about for all comers.”

  The image broke what tension had started to gather, and they laughed together, much too jolly for the hour.

  “At least they haven’t checked your teeth the way your uncle assesses horses to add to his breeding program.”

  Barbara snapped her teeth at Sarah and let loose a high whinny even as her friend ushered her out the door, a bright blush painted on both their cheeks. Their lips held smiles to match the sparkle in their eyes.

  They passed a mirror and Barbara thought they could be mistaken for sisters out seeking fun as much as mistress and maid.

  When they reached the morning room, though, all frivolous thought vanished with the realization of what awaited her.

  She may have been misguided in her first choice, but she refused to settle for less than a true match in heart and mind when she had her whole life ahead of her.

  Some girls might be willing to marry an old goat knowing he’d soon die off and leave them free to live a life less strangled by convention, but not her.

  Barbara might not always agree with her parents, and they’d been known to give each other icy glares on occasion, but with everything that counted, they stood together. She wanted nothing less for her own pairing, though she had little hope of finding it any time soon if the events so far this season proved any indication.

  Sarah swung the door wide after a quick rap on the wood in warning, unaware of the turn in Barbara’s mood.

  The gap revealed a baron with whom she’d danced a few nights previous. He stood out from the others because he had taken a turn around the room with her while
the musicians rested. They’d conversed on nothing significant, but some of his observations had amused her.

  It could have been a worse selection to begin her day, but she wanted to demand just how he thought he knew her well enough to offer a future between them of companionship much less more.

  She restrained her tongue and sat prettily in the chair while her father stood just outside, allowing the baron privacy to make his case, but not enough to compromise her.

  Her thoughts wandered as he spoke of his holdings and the connections he’d made at court.

  Perhaps those girls seeking an older man had something to their thinking. Convention held her bound in this uncomfortable situation. She could not reject his offer without cause, and the only cause they’d understand would be accepting another. She could only delay the choice.

  None of the gentlemen, those who had spoken with her father, or those she’d engaged in conversation or shared a dance with, offered hope of a true bond as far as she could tell.

  He caught her hand, and Barbara started at the touch, struggling to draw his name from her memory. She found only a faint impression of their time together, one that failed to give her anything but his title, something he made sure to emphasize at the least occasion, though it were not so high as to be remarkable among her suitors.

  “Will you but agree?”

  Whatever answer she might have given, Barbara had nothing but supposition to lead her to the question.

  Surely he would not press her so quickly on the matter of marriage. He must have proposed some lesser engagement.

  Grasping at straws, she chose her answer more from Sarah’s loneliness than any hope of it being a direct response to his query. “I’d love a carriage turn through the gardens. I’ve been so engaged of late some fresh air and a touch of sun will do me good.”

  His grin confirmed she’d read the situation correctly. “My phaeton is quite elegant and swift. I’ve a matched pair most envy.”

 

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