Louise

by Oliver, Marina

  Matilda, showing some reluctance, did so. 'You said you were too ill to come to London,' she accused.

  'These dear good people came to fetch me,' Mrs Hoyland said in weaker accents.

  'Rupert sent us to Cheltenham,' Amelia said. She did not sound overjoyed. 'We took the big travelling coach, and spent three days on the return journey, to make it easy for Mrs Hoyland. She is staying here, we know you do not have room. We hope she will be recovered enough from the journey to be at the ball.'

  'I will naturally make every effort,' Mrs Hoyland said, 'since you have been so kind as to fetch me, and in such comfort too. Do not, however, expect me to stand in any receiving line. If I can have a sofa in some discreet spot I shall be well satisfied.'

  'I'm sure Rupert will be happy to arrange it,' Amelia said. 'Now, Louise, I have a few things to ask, so we will leave Matilda and her mother to talk. Come, David.'

  Louise was thankful to escape. David followed them out, and Amelia led the way to a small sitting room and flung herself into a chair.

  'Phew! You'd think we were abducting her, the fuss she made. It was only Rupert's letter, which we did not have the privilege of reading, that made her give way. Why did he want the woman here? Surely he must have known she was quite uninterested in Matilda's marriage prospects, so why force her to attend the ball?'

  'I'll wager she finds some reason for avoiding it,' David said. 'After five days on the road, dawdling in that ancient coach, it will all have been for nothing.'

  'You don't know my brother! If necessary I'm sure he will carry her down to the ballroom himself.'

  'But why did he want her here?' Louise asked. 'I understood she was too much an invalid to make the effort.'

  'Apparently he sent someone to Cheltenham a couple of weeks ago, and they reported she was well enough to go to the baths and musical recitals, so he decided she would come and give Matilda her support. It looks better if the child has a relative with her, I suppose. If he believes she will take on any responsibility, though, he has miscalculated. She'll lie about looking miserable and complaining how ill she is. Do you remember Great-aunt Phoebe? No, it was before we met. She was just the same, and we were all heartily glad when she died.'

  Louise could not help laughing. 'Let us hope Mrs Hoyland survives until after the ball. What is to happen to her then?'

  'She'll be packed off back to Cheltenham. But I am not going with her! She has her maid, who is as sour as she is. They can have the coach, and a couple of footmen for escort. Or Matilda. I do wish the girl could receive an offer, and go with her, then you'd be rid of her, Louise, and able to enjoy the rest of the Season.'

  *

  Madame de Courcy produced Louise's new ball gown on the morning of the ball. Louise was enchanted with it. They were to dine at Dubarry House beforehand, and she dressed early and went to Matilda's room to make sure the girl was not being difficult and suddenly deciding she wanted to wear a coloured gown. She had been very silent since meeting her mother, but Louise detected a look of rebellion in her eyes.

  She found Matilda in the white gown, but arguing with Jenny about the jewels she wanted to wear.

  'They're not suitable for a young girl,' Jenny was saying, and turned to Louise with a sigh.

  Matilda had donned a brash diamond necklace, dangling diamond eardrops, and several diamond bracelets. She was in the process of pinning a diamond brooch to the neck of her gown.

  'Where did you get those?' Louise demanded. She had never seen them before, and she thought she knew all Matilda's jewels.

  'Mama brought them for me to wear. They are hers.'

  'You look like a chandelier,' Louise said. 'They are not suitable for a debutante, and you will take them off straight away. All of them. And wear the diamond pendant we decided would go with your gown.'

  'They are my jewels! My mother said to wear them.'

  'Your mother has not been in London for years. She does not know what is appropriate now. Flaunting your wealth like this, like some bird of paradise from Covent Garden or Drury Lane would harm your chances even more than you have already harmed them. Take them off, or we do not go to the ball.'

  Matilda protested, but in the face of Louise's determination, eventually obeyed. Jenny locked the diamonds away in the jewel casket Mrs Hoyland had apparently given to Matilda, and the two ladies set out for Grosvenor Square. Matilda sulked, but managed to greet Amelia and the Earl with a smile when they were admitted to Dubarry House. Louise could only hope she would behave with decorum for the rest of the evening.

  *

  In the drawing room before dinner Louise went to speak to her mother-in-law. It was the first time she had seen her since hearing she had been out of London.

  'Did you have a pleasant visit? Where did you go?'

  To her surprise the Dowager blushed.

  'I – we – I went to visit Sir Arthur's house, and – and meet his children.'

  Suddenly the meaning of the many times she had seen the Dowager driving out with Sir Arthur became a suspicion.

  'To meet – ? You and Sir Arthur? Does that mean what it sounds like? If so, I am very pleased for you both.'

  'Nothing is settled yet,' she said hurriedly, 'and please, don't mention it to anyone else. Your mother knows, of course.'

  Someone else then came to speak to the Dowager and Louise went to where her mother and Sir Martin stood.

  'What is delaying Sir Arthur and Mama-in-law?' she asked bluntly.

  Emily looked at her and smiled. 'She is waiting until you are settled. She does not wish to leave you on your own at Rushton Manor.'

  'Not leave me alone? But I'm an adult! I do not need a nursemaid!'

  'She thinks you will be lonely, so she is hoping you will find a second husband yourself.'

  Louise was silenced. She could marry again, if she would marry a soldier and accepted the Earl's offer. But even for her mother-in-law she did not think she could face the certain anguish that would cause.

  'Now you have come back to London, you will return,' Emily went on. 'Find this wretched child a husband, and you can come and stay with me. You still look eighteen, not at all a severe duenna. There will be offers.'

  'I – perhaps. Thank you.' There was only one offer she would accept, and that was impossible.

  'Matilda is looking unusually happy tonight,' Emily went on. 'How did you manage to dress her so becomingly?'

  'Force and threats. And Jenny, her maid. She listens to her.' Louise laughed. 'She was decked out with all her mother's preposterous diamonds when I went to supervise. Between us, Jenny and I managed to persuade her how inappropriate they were. Just what her mother was thinking by lending them to her I cannot imagine. She is as foolish as Matilda!'

  'She is probably despairing at the thought the child will have to go back to Yorkshire without a betrothal ring. If Joseph keeps his word, that this is to be her only Season, Mrs Hoyland will have to bestir herself to find a husband for the girl. I haven't seen her yet, but from what I heard from Amelia, that would not suit her at all.'

  'Is she not coming to dinner?'

  Emily laughed. 'And have to make polite conversation to us all? No, she begged to be allowed to have a small bowl of soup in her room. I understand Amelia was only too happy to oblige.'

  'She is coming to the ball, however?'

  'Yes. Amelia said they have set up a throne for her in one of the alcoves. They sound delightful, by the way. Your idea?'

  'A throne? Surely not.' Louise was laughing, but at the same time looking rueful. 'Rupert may regret his interference in sending for her after all.'

  'He's achieved his object and will now forget all about it. That's what men are like. Though,' she paused, 'I'm surprised he did not send for Joseph too.'

  'He didn't have any more willing slaves to undertake an impossible task. My grandfather would have been more than a match for a regiment of Guards. Can you imagine him doing the pretty in a London ballroom?'

  'He could have set up a rival
throne, and the courtiers could visit each of them in turn. Actually, that would have spurred Mrs Hoyland into some activity. I understand she is very lachrymose. Let's hope she does not weep so much it puts a damper on the ball.'

  *

  Chapter 11

  For a while after dinner Matilda stood with the Earl and Louise to welcome guests. Then Amelia and David were deputed to the task, and the Earl led Matilda into the first dance while Sir Arthur persuaded Louise it was her duty to dance, not sit amongst the chaperones.

  Matilda was delirious with excitement. It was the first time the Earl had ever danced with her, and she began to imagine the scene when he would propose. He had, of course, avoided asking her to dance at other balls, in order not to give rise to gossip. But here, at her own ball, he was declaring his intentions before the ton. She began to weave dreams. Later, when he danced with her again, he would take her out onto the terrace. It was, fortunately, a warm evening. Then he would go down on one knee and beg her to become his bride. She might hesitate for a while. It did not do to show too much eagerness. That, she knew from the novels she read, gave husbands power to dictate to their wives, whereas if the wives had needed to be persuaded husbands needed to be careful always to please them and do what they wished.

  She sighed and gave him a wistful glance when he led her back to sit beside Louise. Her chaperone, Matilda saw with a spurt of resentment, already had several men clamouring for dances. It wasn't fair. Louise should be sitting with the mothers of the other debutantes. She was old, and if she stole partners there would be fewer to dance with her. A moment of honesty forced Matilda to acknowledge that Louise looked no more than eighteen. Her dress shimmered like real gold, and her only jewellery was a simple gold chain and matching earrings and bracelet. Matilda frowned. She ought to have been wearing those diamonds. None of the other debutantes had such gorgeous jewels, but Louise had forced her to give them up when she might have been demonstrating her own wealth. It had been jealousy, because Louise didn't have such jewels.

  She glanced at her mother. She ought to go and explain why she was not wearing the diamonds, and perhaps her mother would chide Louise. That would serve her right.

  Mrs Hoyland was ensconced on a sofa in the corner alcove at the far end of the room, a twin to the one on the other corner where the musicians were almost hidden by a profusion of greenery. From there she could see all that took place, watch which men sidled into the card rooms, or which couples went out onto the terrace. She would see when the Earl took her out there. Matilda gave a shiver of excitement. She did, however, wish her mother were wearing a more elegant gown. This one was at least five years out of date. It was a deep brown, almost black, in a dull silk that did not shimmer. The style was juvenile, and Mrs Hoyland displayed far too much of her scrawny chest on which, Matilda saw with a spurt of annoyance, was a large diamond necklace, one she had not lent Matilda. A small table beside her held an array of restoratives, and she was wielding a large fan of chicken tail feathers dyed black. On a chair set to the side and further back sat her maid, in a black gown. Fortunately she was partly hidden by the foliage. Her hair, which had been grey, was hidden by an improbable black wig and ringlets at either side of her face, which had splashes of scarlet on her lips and cheeks.

  She had to forget her mother, for she was being asked for dances. Several young men who had danced with her only once before now begged for the privilege of leading her into a set. They had probably kept aloof at other balls for fear of raising her hopes, when they had not been ready to make her an offer. Briefly she wondered how many offers she might receive tonight. There was only one she felt was appropriate, and she would accept the Earl.

  *

  Matilda danced every dance. Presumably the men who had accepted invitations felt obliged to pay for them by dancing with the girl for whom the ball was given. Then Louise chastised herself for the thoughts. Perhaps, this time, Matilda would behave better so that some of the men might ask her to dance elsewhere, when they felt no special obligation.

  She had just one moment of worry, when Rupert asked her to waltz, and she saw Matilda glaring at her with an odd expression in her eyes. Then Cedric, who had spent much of the evening playing cards, had asked Matilda to dance, and she had accepted.

  The child had been in a silent mood as they drove home, and vanished into her room with barely a word. Louise left her to Jenny and took herself to bed. It had been an exhausting evening, for she had danced every dance herself, and received many compliments. She had met many of the people she'd known during her own come-out, all of whom said they were happy to see her back in town, and hoped she would now be a regular visitor. She thought perhaps she would, and would inform her mother-in-law of that intention, and with that thought fell asleep.

  Matilda slept late, but Louise was restless, and soon had herself driven to Mount Street where she found Emily and her mother-in-law at breakfast. She accepted a cup of coffee, and sat with them as they discussed the ball, talking of the gowns, of the spectacle Mrs Hoyland had made when she held court in her alcove, and the greater spectacle when, just before supper was announced, two of the footmen had been summoned to carry her, in a chair, to her bedroom.

  'She might at least have waited until we'd all gone into supper,' Emily said. 'Her procession, with the maid carrying all those bottles coming after her, disrupted at least three cotillion sets. Matilda was almost weeping while the rest of us were trying not to laugh. Did the girl enjoy herself?'

  'I'm not sure,' Louise said. 'She ought to have done, she had partners for every dance, but something hadn't pleased her.'

  'Perhaps she was hoping for an offer that did not come,' Emily said. 'Who has she set her ambitions on?'

  'She was looking furious whenever Rupert was dancing,' Lady Rushton said. 'He didn't dance a great deal, but I noticed her looking at him.'

  'Surely she can't delude herself that he might offer for her?'

  'She can, Emily. She was preening herself when he led her out for the first dance.'

  'That was mere politeness! It was his house, and her ball. It was conventional, necessary.'

  'Matilda does not understand. Enough of her. Did you enjoy the ball, Louise?'

  'I did, and I came to say that I shall frequently accept your invitation to stay with you, Mama, so there is no need for Mama-in-law here to sacrifice her own happiness because of worries I will be lonely at Rushton Manor. Accept Sir Arthur, go and enjoy his children. And invite me to stay as often as you can bear it.'

  'Louise!'

  'Well? Don't you deserve some happiness? And Sir Arthur is a lovely man. If you reject him now, I may try and capture him. He's promised to teach me to drive a team, and if you keep me down in Devon when will he have the opportunity?'

  It took the combined arguments of Emily and Louise before Lady Rushton accepted their advice.

  'Very well,' she said after half an hour of, as she claimed, being bullied, she agreed to tell Sir Arthur she would marry him.

  'Before the end of the Season,' Louise insisted. 'So that I can be there.'

  *

  Matilda was very subdued and refused to talk about the ball. Louise insisted she went to talk with her mother, who had announced her intention of returning to Cheltenham at once, since it did not look likely Matilda was about to be married. She would go on the stage, at whatever cost to her health, she declared, until Rupert said that if she would wait for a few more days he would send her in his own coach.

  'You found that comfortable enough, I think?'

  'Yes, my lord, and I thank you. But you need not send your sister with me. Now she does not need to coerce me into coming to London she does not need to accompany me. She hated it all, it was clear. Just send a footman along who can make all the arrangements for me at inns.'

  Matilda came back from Dubarry House in a worse temper than before. Her mother, she told Louise, had blamed her for not yet attaching a man. It was her own money that was being lavished on this Season, than
ks to old Joshua Hoyland, and more might have to be spent on a second Season.

  'I told her Great-uncle Joseph had sworn this would be my only chance,' she said, 'but I can't help it if no one wants to marry me! I can't propose to them!' At which she burst into tears and had to be put to bed with a composer.

  A few days later she recovered her spirits when a party was formed to visit Vauxhall Gardens. Then, when she realised no young people had been invited to join it, she sulked.

  'Cedric ought to be invited,' she complained.

  'It's the Earl's party,' Louise said. 'He will invite whoever he wishes, and Cedric is not in his favour at the moment.'

  Emily and Sir Martin, Isabel and Sir Arthur, Amelia and David, herself and Matilda were all invited. Rupert had arranged for boats to convey them across the river to the water entrance, and a booth where they could have refreshments, including the legendary ham. It was Louise's first visit. During her own come-out, for some reason, she had never been there, and she was enchanted with the many walks lit by gas lanterns, with their statues and fountains. The rotunda, she was told, would host an orchestra later, and there would be dancing.

  The Earl invited Louise to explore with him. She was a little apprehensive he might renew his offer, and she was finding it increasingly hard to maintain her refusal. Unused to flirtation, since she had fallen in love with Richard almost at once, in her only Season, she had not immediately realised that the feeling she had for Rupert was love and not simply the admiration she had supposed.

  They wandered down the gravelled paths, and then went back to the booth for supper of ham, chicken, salads and wine, which Rupert said was preferable to the potent arrack-punch, and which was already affecting some of the diners in the other booths.

  Matilda had gone to explore with Sir Henry, who said they would be watching the fireworks. He came back some time later in some distress, saying Matilda had slipped away from him and he could not find her.