Death Comes to London

by Catherine Lloyd

  “Don’t turn around!” Miss Harrington hissed. “Oh my goodness, it’s too late, she’s seen you.”

  It was, of course, Miss Chingford. Robert rose and bowed.

  “Miss Chingford.”

  His former betrothed clutched a hand to her throat and stared at him as if he’d grown two heads.

  “You? Here?” She shuddered. “Am I to be hounded by your presence forever? After ruining my chances of marrying once, have you returned to London to ensure that if you can’t have me, no one else will either?”

  Her throbbing voice was attracting attention. Robert cast an anguished plea at Miss Harrington, who was watching the scene with great interest.

  “With all due respect, Miss Chingford, I have no desire to prevent you from—”

  “And yet you brought that creature to London with you to steal away another of my potential husbands!” She pointed back into the ballroom where Miss Anna was just concluding her dance with Broughton.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Miss Anna Harrington.”

  “I did no such thing, I—”

  Miss Harrington stood up. “I can assure you that my sister was invited to London by our aunt and uncle, not by Major Kurland. And she may dance with whomever she pleases.”

  “I should’ve known you would all be in this together. You are determined to ruin my existence.” Miss Chingford looked distraught. “It was probably your plan all along, for you to marry my darling Robert and for your sister to marry his friend.”

  “I think you should go and lie down, Miss Chingford,” Miss Harrington said firmly. “I fear your imagination is running away with you. As far as I can ascertain, Major Kurland relinquished all interest in you and your matrimonial prospects when you decided you would not suit.”

  “So why has he followed me to London to blight my attempts to find a new husband?”

  Robert decided it was time to intervene. “I came to London to settle matters with my regiment. That is all. I have no intention of interfering with you or your matrimonial prospects. In truth, I wish you every success!”

  Miss Chingford recoiled from Robert’s rather biting tone and turned to Miss Harrington.

  “He is an unfeeling brute. I am glad to be rid of him. Perhaps you may deal with him better, but I cannot wish you well. I wish all of you had stayed in Kurland St. Mary!” She tossed her head and flounced away to where her mother and a group of young ladies were gathered just inside the door.

  “I wish I’d stayed there, too,” Robert muttered. “Silly woman.”

  Miss Harrington sighed. “She lives her life as though she were on the stage and everything is about her needs and her wishes. It must be so fatiguing.”

  “And if she considers Broughton her beau, him making sheep’s eyes at Miss Anna probably didn’t help.”

  “That was certainly unfortunate,” Miss Harrington agreed. “Perhaps now that she’s said her piece, Miss Chingford will keep away from us.”

  “I doubt that,” Robert said, his glance again straying to the door of the supper room where Miss Chingford was still talking and casting angry looks in his direction.

  Miss Harrington shivered. “Whoever thought a visit to a London ball would prove so exciting?”

  “Certainly not I, Miss Harrington. I knew there was a reason why I avoid the place. There are far too many people here whom I know.” Robert stood up and bowed. “I see your aunt talking to Broughton and Miss Anna at the door. If you will excuse me, I’ll take my leave before anything else can occur. Would you like me to escort you back to your party, or do you wish to stay here and save your seat?”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes.”

  “When it is just getting exciting?”

  “I don’t have your stomach for such drama, Miss Harrington, and prefer to retire to my bed with a good book and a glass of port. I will, however, call on you and Mrs. Hathaway and expect to receive a full report of the rest of the night’s doings.”

  “Which I will be happy to supply.”

  He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Good night, Miss Harrington.”

  “Good night, Major.”

  He made his escape with as much speed as he could manage, avoiding both his acquaintances and the hostess, who would insist on introducing him to young ladies of character. In truth, he was exhausted and would willingly cede the field to Miss Harrington, who was obviously enjoying herself. He wasn’t surprised. She had always thrived in an environment full of excitement.

  Out on King Street he had a footman find him a hackney cab and went back to Fenton’s and the tender ministrations of Foley. In a few days he was meeting the Prince Regent’s secretary and he needed to be at his best for that.

  Chapter 4

  “I knew she’d come,” Lucy murmured to Anna as Miss Chingford entered the drawing room of Clavelly House with her mother and at least two of her younger sisters. “She probably couldn’t bear to keep away. At least Major Kurland isn’t here.”

  Lucy surveyed Miss Chingford’s charmingly cut blue coat edged with swansdown and the matching muff. Peacock feathers curling around the poke of the bonnet framed her face, which wore the sour expression of curdling milk.

  Aunt Jane rose to her feet and went forward. “Mrs. Chingford, how lovely of you to call.”

  Miss Chingford’s gaze swept over Lucy and alighted on Anna and Julia, who were in the middle of a laughing crowd of young people that included at least one heir to a viscount and the youngest son of an earl. The sight seemed to afford Miss Chingford no pleasure. Ignoring her sisters, she moved forward into the group, pushing one young lady to the side and claiming her place beside the viscount’s heir.

  Lucy fought a smile and instead congratulated herself on Anna’s outstanding success. Several bouquets had been delivered to the house and a veritable shower of invitations that included both the Harrington sisters had also arrived. Lucy was well content with Anna’s debut and quietly hopeful for herself.

  Another newcomer entered the room and, as her aunt was still engaged with Mrs. Chingford, Lucy stepped forward.

  “Lieutenant Broughton, my ladies.” She curtsied to the dowager and a middle-aged woman who she assumed was the current countess and Broughton’s mother. “You are most welcome.”

  The lieutenant bowed. “Miss Harrington, may I present my mother and grandmother, the current and dowager countesses of Broughton?”

  The dowager snorted. “I’ve already met the gel. Now where’s the sister you’ve been bleating on about?”

  Broughton flushed. “Miss Anna Harrington is over by the window, Grandmother. I’ll take you over and introduce you right now.”

  Lucy wondered if she should accompany the pair as the dowager leaned on her grandson’s arm and tottered off across the room.

  “Miss Harrington? How are you this fine afternoon?”

  She turned to see Mr. Stanford smiling down at her. “Oh, Mr. Stanford, how nice to see you.”

  He bowed and held out a neat posy of violets. “I thought you might enjoy these.”

  She took the flowers and realized from the sudden heat in her cheeks that she must be blushing. “For me?”

  “Indeed. I brought some for you and Mrs. Giffin.” He winked. “I suspected the pair of you might be overlooked in the deluge of offerings for Miss Julia and Miss Anna, and I couldn’t have that.”

  “That was very kind of you. I am particularly fond of violets, as is Sophia.”

  The sound of raised voices drew her attention to the party gathered around Anna. “Oh dear, I hope everything is all right.”

  Mr. Stanford looked over the top of her head. “Miss Chingford appears to be arguing with Broughton. I do believe the dowager countess is enjoying it, while the countess is wringing her hands and trying to intervene.”

  Sophia came up beside Lucy, her expression concerned. “What’s going on over there?”

  Lucy patted her hand. “I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.”
r />   “Find out what?”

  The deep tones of Major Kurland made her pause and look over her shoulder at the door. He was still in uniform, which was most unfair of him, and looked remarkably handsome.

  “Major, you’d better stay where you are and converse with Mr. Stanford. Miss Chingford is obviously overwrought.”

  His rare smile made her blink. “Broughton’s flown the coop, has he? This I have to see.”

  Lucy ignored him and headed across the drawing room in the direction of the altercation. Miss Chingford was nose-to-nose with Broughton. He wasn’t giving an inch; his face was flushed and his mouth a hard line as she continued to berate him. Of course, he’d grown up being belittled by the dowager and was unlikely to give in to such an amateur.

  “You’re as fickle and as uncaring of a woman’s heart as Major Kurland.”

  Lucy stepped between the furious pair and held up her hand. “Miss Chingford—”

  “Oh, not you again, Miss Harrington. Do you believe it is your life’s duty to interfere in everyone else’s business? I suppose I shouldn’t be at all surprised. That’s what old spinsters do, isn’t it?”

  Before she could get a word out, Anna was suddenly in front of her.

  “How dare you say that about my sister, Miss Chingford. She has shown you nothing but kindness.”

  Anna’s blue eyes were flashing. All the gentlemen in their corner of the room, including Broughton and Major Kurland, were now staring at her sister.

  Miss Chingford took one look at the faces around her, gasped, and fumbled for her handkerchief. “Oh dear, I feel quite faint. . . .” She swayed becomingly and Broughton stepped forward to catch her in his arms.

  Lucy sighed. “Please place her on the sofa, Lieutenant. I have my smelling salts in my reticule.” She glanced up at Anna, who looked conscience stricken, and Major Kurland, who looked amused. “Anna, why don’t you take our guests to get some refreshments while I take care of Miss Chingford. Perhaps you might fetch her mother. She won’t want a crowd around her when she recovers from her swoon.”

  “Yes, Lucy.” Anna smiled at Broughton. “Would any of you care for some tea?”

  Lucy uncorked her smelling salts and waved the bottle under Miss Chingford’s nose, which had the desired effect of making her cough and sit bolt upright.

  “Your mother will be here in a moment. Do you feel well enough to walk down to your carriage, or shall I find you some assistance?”

  “You,” Miss Chingford uttered with deep loathing.

  “Who else? You can scarcely have imagined that Lieutenant Broughton carried smelling salts in his pocket. Luckily for you, I do.” She looked up. “Ah, here is your mama to take care of you.” She placed the smelling salt bottle in Miss Chingford’s hand. “Please keep this with you for the journey home.”

  While Mrs. Chingford fussed around her daughter, Lucy stood up and surveyed the drawing room. Mr. Stanford was talking to Sophia and Mrs. Hathaway, Major Kurland was with Anna and Broughton, and almost everyone else was attempting to leave, no doubt eager to carry the news of Miss Chingford’s fainting and accusations to as many households as possible. In some ways, London resembled Kurland St. Mary all too closely.

  “That Chingford girl is a fool.”

  Lucy turned to the window seat behind her and saw the Dowager Countess of Broughton perched there like a black crow.

  “She is perhaps unwise to allow her emotions to flow so freely in such company.”

  “As is your sister, Miss Anna.”

  “Anna was simply defending me. I hardly think her behavior can be considered in the same light.”

  The dowager drew out a snuffbox, extracted a pinch of the brownish powder, and inhaled it from the back of her hand with a loud snort. Lucy’s own nose wrinkled as she observed the dowager. Taking snuff was an old-fashioned habit that she for one was glad to see diminishing.

  “Broughton will be well rid of the pair of them.”

  “I beg your pardon, my lady?”

  “I don’t want such emotional traits bred into my family.” The dowager snapped the lid of the snuffbox shut. “I’ll order Broughton to keep away from them both.”

  Lucy curtsied. “That is, of course, your prerogative, my lady. Now, may I fetch you some tea?”

  She walked away before she said something she shouldn’t. What an interfering woman! She made Lucy look amateurish. She could only hope that Broughton was made of sterner stuff and would not allow his grandmother to influence his decisions at all.

  Major Kurland came up to her and bowed. “Miss Harrington, I’ll take my leave of you. I have an appointment with my solicitor.”

  “Then you definitely mustn’t be late.”

  She held out her hand and he brought it to his lips. “A pleasure, Miss Harrington. I swear that whenever I encounter you I can be sure of some kind of excitement. It is quite remarkable.”

  “Your amusement at my expense is hardly edifying, Major. The dowager countess is determined to meddle in her grandson’s affairs.”

  “I’m sure you’ll soon put a stop to that.” He saluted and had the audacity to wink before he went out the door, leaving Lucy staring after him.

  For her appearance at Almack’s that evening, Lucy decided to wear her favorite new dress, which comprised a gray-blue shot silk slip covered with British net and augmented by a deep flounce of blond lace at the bodice and the sash sewn under the high waist. Both Sophia and Anna said it complemented her coloring and her eyes and, although she was not one to be vain about her looks, she did look rather well in it.

  Lieutenant Broughton had called during the preceding week, as had Mr. Stanford. There had been no sign of Major Kurland, although his friends intimated that he was busy with regimental business and the officials of the court.

  The Clavelly party, which included the Harrington sisters, soon joined the Broughtons, who were expecting Major Kurland to meet them when he was done with his business. Both Lucy and Sophia had been granted permission to waltz by the patronesses of Almack’s so they would not have to sit the dance out. Lucy wasn’t quite sure of the steps and wondered whether she’d prefer not to be asked to attempt it after all.

  Almost as soon as they entered the ballroom, Miss Chingford appeared at Lucy’s elbow and smiled, showing far too many teeth.

  Lucy merely looked at her and Miss Chingford tittered. “Oh, Miss Harrington, don’t stare at me so. You are just the person I wanted to see.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  Lucy almost balked when Miss Chingford linked her arm through hers and dragged her away from her friends before turning to face her.

  “I am a great believer in finding out the truth.”

  “What could I possibly know that interests you?”

  “Is it true that Major Kurland is to be ennobled?”

  “I am hardly likely to have such information, Miss Chingford. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

  “So there is something to ask about?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Miss Chingford narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying.”

  Lucy curtsied. “Good evening, Miss Chingford.” She turned away, but Miss Chingford followed her right into the middle of the Broughton party.

  “I insist on knowing the truth!”

  Before Lucy could say anything, the dowager countess snorted. “And I insist that you go away. No one wishes to hear your loud voice, or witness your deplorable manners, young woman!”

  “My manners are impeccable! It is your family who should be ashamed of themselves.” Miss Chingford raised her chin at the dowager. “You are an outright bully, and your grandson is a coward who can’t even stand up for himself!”

  Lucy looked from the dowager to Miss Chingford but couldn’t bring herself to step between them. It was rather like watching a battle from ancient Greek mythology. No one else intervened either, although Anna did take a tiny step forward.

  “My lady—”

  The dowager’s cold gaze sk
immed over Anna. “I’m going to speak to Lady Jersey and ask her to revoke both your vouchers for Almack’s. I cannot have my grandson fought over like a bone in such a public place!”

  Miss Chingford gasped. “You horrible old woman! How dare you! You would ruin my entire life, my entire future over your numbskull of a grandson? I could strangle you for this!” She made an impulsive movement toward the dowager, but Broughton stepped in front of her.

  “It’s all right, Miss Chingford. Let me escort you back to your mother.”

  Lucy thought Miss Chingford had done more to harm her own reputation than the dowager ever could. Threatening an old lady was hardly becoming behavior from anyone, let alone a peer’s granddaughter.

  “Good Lord.” The dowager swayed and stumbled against Lucy, who instinctively caught her arm.

  “Perhaps you should sit down, my lady.” Lucy helped the dowager into a chair and studied her pale, sweating countenance. “Shall I fetch you something to drink?”

  “Don’t pretend to be nice to me, Miss Harrington. It won’t save your sister or that awful Miss Chingford from expulsion from Almack’s.”

  “I don’t care what happens to Miss Chingford, but Anna has done nothing to offend you in the slightest.”

  “Apart from leach on to my grandson?”

  “She can do much better than him, I assure you.”

  The dowager withdrew her snuffbox. “Then make sure she does.”

  Barely containing her temper, Lucy rose to her feet and saw Broughton coming back from delivering Miss Chingford to her mother.

  “Lieutenant?”

  Poor Broughton looked rather distraught. “Yes, Miss Harrington?”

  “Would it be possible to fetch your grandmother a drink? She isn’t feeling quite the thing.”

  “Of course, Miss Harrington. I’ll find one of the staff and see to it immediately.”

  Lucy walked over to where Anna stood; her usual smile was missing and her troubled gaze fixed on the retreating Broughton.

  She clung to Lucy’s hand. “Oh, Lucy, whatever am I to do? Broughton’s grandmother hates me.”

  “She is a loathsome old toad,” Lucy whispered. “If Broughton really cares for you, he’ll find a way to negate his grandmother’s influence over him. It will be a good test of his true affection.”