“We are. But if we find a solution that meets both his needs and ours...” The look in Jo’s eyes as she took hold of Tabitha’s arm and pulled her out into the foyer was more than simply dogged determination. It more nearly bordered on ferocity. “Miss Jennings does.”
Two options lay before Tabitha: one, she could dig in her feet and force Jo to drag her along, thereby giving herself a few moments to determine the cleverness of her cousin’s assertions—but also drawing the attention of half the ton; or two, she could walk along at Jo’s side in a manner befitting a lady of her station and ascertain the rest after the fact. A raised eyebrow from Lord Leith the moment the two ladies were out in the open made Tabitha’s mind up for her.
She walked.
Granted, she was still seething under the surface but no one need know that save Jo, and apparently Lord Leith, since the earl had witnessed what must have been a rather comical sight. He, at least, ought to have the decency never to mention what he’d seen. The same, perhaps, could not be said of Jo.
Tabitha ventured another brief glance in his direction as she and Jo made their way through the throng. Lord Leith had schooled his features into a vaguely polite smile; he nodded in her direction. Then the scamp had the nerve to wink.
She would definitely have to have a discussion with him about his level of familiarity. He was behaving as though he was one of her brothers—one of whom happened to be standing alongside him.
At least she wouldn’t have to go off searching for Toby.
There was little time to worry about either Lord Leith or her brother at the present, however. Every few steps, Tabitha and Jo were greeted by various and sundry members of society, and she was obliged to greet them and trade a few pleasantries. Finally, after working their way through countless acquaintances (including Lady Kibblewhite and Lady Plumridge—Tabitha quelled a series of convulsions at the feigned enthusiasm with which the two gossipmongers greeted her), they stood before Miss Jennings and her companions.
“Lady Tabitha! And Miss Faulkner. It is lovely to see you here this evening,” Miss Jennings said. She took each of their gloved hands into her own in turn as she spoke. “I’ve so been looking forward to tonight’s performance. Lady Scantlebury went on and on about it at her ball, you know.”
Tabitha took a moment to appraise the debutante up close. A bit on the frail side—not overly surprising, given the state of her contemporaries. Brown hair, big brown eyes, and a white silk gown in the most current fashion. She should suit, though a blonde would be better.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure it will be lovely,” Jo said and waved her hand through the air before taking the girl’s arm into her own. “But tell me, Miss Jennings, who is your seamstress? That gown is stunning, don’t you agree, Tabby?” She looked over long enough for Tabitha to give an agreeing nod. “Quite as enchanting as the one you wore a few evenings ago at the Scantlebury ball. I simply must discover all your secrets.”
Miss Jennings flushed prettily and launched herself into conversation, needing no more encouragement than Jo’s effusive flattery to loosen her tongue. Tabitha found it difficult to pay attention. Far more of her focus was devoted to watching Toby from across the foyer while devising a plan to bring him into their circle.
At the moment, he was surrounded by the usual suspects: Lord Leith; two of Jo’s brothers, Christopher and Graham; and two other gentlemen whom Tabitha could not quite make out due to the great distance and crush of bodies separating them. She supposed she could just walk over to them and step into their group. After all, the lion’s share of these men were family. It wouldn’t be quite as unseemly in this situation as it would if they were a group of gentlemen to whom she weren’t in some way related.
Before Tabitha could make up her mind one way or another, Miss Jennings’s voice pulled at her. “No, this is all still quite lavish and unfamiliar to me. In all honesty, it is on the whole rather uncomfortable. Father worked until his cousin passed away. He was an innkeeper, actually.”
“How intriguing,” Tabitha said, leaning in. Her attention had been fully captured. “Did you live in the inn as a child? I would have loved to grow up in an inn. All those people coming and going all the time.” The thought of sitting off in the corner of the main room and catching snippets of their conversations threatened to distract her from the task at hand.
“No we lived in a cottage nearby, though Mother and I were in and out often, helping in the kitchens and the like.”
Jo looked Miss Jennings over with fresh appreciation. “And you are unconcerned about how the ton will look upon you for coming from such humble beginnings? That is quite brave.”
The younger woman smiled. “I cannot change my past. Nor would I wish to do so. Why be ashamed of an honest life?”
“Why, indeed?” Tabitha murmured. Miss Jennings was far from the simpering young miss that Tabitha had initially assumed she must be. True, she was very young. But at least she might not capitulate her senses at the first instant Toby paid her any regard. Maybe Jo was onto something promising with the girl.
That was it. Her mind was made up. Tabitha would walk over to Toby, convince him to come and meet Miss Jennings, and then sooner rather than later, she would have another sister-in-law.
Tabitha was just beginning to excuse herself for a moment in order to do that when yet again, Lord Leith caught her eye. If she was not mistaken, the dratted earl had the audacity to wink at her for the second time that evening. Tabitha blinked to be sure she hadn’t imagined his uncouth display. When she looked again, he was smiling like the devil himself...and he was making his way toward her, with Toby at his side.
Well, perhaps he wasn’t altogether horrid if he was at least bringing her twin along. She’d thank him someday. Probably the same day she finally gave him a piece of her mind over his familiarity with both Jo and herself. Her brothers and cousins were having a decidedly ill-favored effect on him.
As the two gentlemen arrived at Tabitha’s side, she turned to her victim. “Miss Jennings, might I introduce a good family friend, the Earl of Leith and my brother, Mr. Tobias Shelton?”
Lord Leith dropped into a perfunctory bow. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Toby took a bit longer about it, but finally did as he ought. “My apologies, Miss Jennings. I’m afraid I must already be dashing away,” he said almost as soon as he rose again to his full height. “I only stopped here to inform my sister and cousin that Lord Leith has offered to escort them home after the performance tonight. An urgent situation has arisen, which my business associate has only now informed me of.”
Urgent situation? Business associate? The only business Tabitha knew of that Toby could be involved with was placing bets in the books at White’s. Blast the oily weasel, he was going to ruin her plans! If she didn’t know better, she might think he was aware of her intentions for his downfall.
There was no time to confront him, however. Almost as soon as he arrived, Toby made his escape.
Jo smiled at Lord Leith. If she felt any of Tabitha’s misgivings about Toby’s behavior, she hid it well. “That is very kind of you, my lord.”
Kind, indeed. Tabitha half-suspected the earl of a hidden agenda.
Her half-suspicion turned into full suspicion a mere moment later, when Lord Leith smiled back at Jo, then turned to Tabitha and Miss Jennings. “I do apologize, ladies, but might I trouble you for a moment, Miss Faulkner? There is something I must discuss with you. It truly cannot wait.”
Jo didn’t hesitate even for a moment. “Of course,” she said with a brisk nod. She placed her hand on his arm and they were gone before Tabitha could decipher what had just happened.
She’d thought she was going to introduce Miss Jennings to her brother and have them pair off for the evening. She’d thought Jo would remain at her side and help her determine the best ways of going about it. But Toby had run off, and Lord Leith had absconded with Jo, and now Tabitha was all alone with the debutante.
“Your family is
quite affable, Lady Tabitha,” Miss Jennings said moments later. “And rather large, it would seem. I believe I met your other brother and his wife last night. Lord and Lady Raynesford? Lord Devonport was kind enough to make our introductions at Lady Kirkaldy’s musicale.”
Tabitha flinched and tried to hide it. “Lord Devonport? I didn’t realize he would be there.” Not that it should matter. Lord Devonport’s social engagements ought to have no bearing on Tabitha’s demeanor, yet for some reason, she felt affronted that he’d not mentioned his plans.
It irked her to no end that the mere mention of his name coming from this young slip of a thing’s lips would rankle so. The idea that she had a reaction at all was even more of an effrontery than the reaction itself. Lord Devonport owed her no explanations. He owed her nothing at all.
Miss Jennings smiled wistfully. “Yes, he was there. In fact, he sat with my mother and me for about half of the performance. I do believe he might call upon me sometime soon.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “I certainly hope I’m right about that. He’s quite handsome, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, of course,” Tabitha spluttered. Too handsome by half. Devilishly so. So handsome, it oughtn’t to be a surprise to her that he might pay court to a lovely young debutante such as the one standing before her. They would make a handsome couple—certainly more handsome than Lord Devonport would look alongside Tabitha. Not that he ever would be. She ought to be pleased for him. For them both.
But then why did she suddenly wish Miss Jennings’s perfect English-rose complexion would break out in a pox? She tried to force such thoughts from her mind. “I’m sure he’ll call on you tomorrow. The next day at the very latest.” He certainly wouldn’t be calling on Tabitha any time soon. Perhaps he’d pay a visit to Owen and Elaine, or visit with little Lily, or maybe even Toby. But not Tabitha.
“Do you really think so?” The younger girl fairly flushed at the prospect.
“Yes. Yes, I do. And you’ll have to tell me all about it afterwards.” Tabitha might have even managed saying such a thing without revealing herself for the liar she was. In the meanwhile, Tabitha would have to remind herself that she was an old maid. By choice. And glad of it.
Even if it hurt.
Chapter Five
The clip-clopping hooves of the pair leading Noah’s barouche through Hyde Park fairly echoed from the silent lack of conversation. Twice he had already chastised himself for his surprise over Lady Cressica’s seeming inability to natter on about anything. After all, she had proven herself far from loquacious upon their first meeting at Lady Kirkaldy’s musicale. Their second meeting the following evening at Lord and Lady Rippington’s ball yet again displayed a distinct lack of garrulous behavior.
Why should she be any different when they were away from the prying eyes of anyone save her lady’s maid and his driver?
Still, as a gentleman, he ought to make more of an effort. Even if the last four attempts at a discussion had been initiated by him. “Have you been enjoying your first Season, Lady Cressica?”
“Yes, it has been lovely.”
Then silence.
Lovely is not a word he’d typically associate with London. Noisy. Crowded. Filthy. Smelly. But lovely? And still, she did not engage him further. Noah stifled a sigh. “I imagine things are very different here from your normal life. London is certainly a change of pace for me from life in Cumberland. Much more hustle and bustle. I find I rarely have a moment’s thought to myself.”
“Indeed,” she replied. She turned her listless stare and plastered smile to the Serpentine, carefully twining the fingers of her gloved hands and returning them to her lap.
Silence reigned again.
Noah caught the maid’s gaze and imploringly raised an eyebrow. She jerked her head toward Lady Cressica almost imperceptibly and lifted an eyebrow of her own.
How terribly helpful. If ever Noah married Lady Cressica (he cringed at the thought), he’d have to hire the girl a new maid—one who could provide as much assistance to him in terms of understanding his wife as she would provide to her primary charge. “And where does your family live the rest of the year? I don’t believe you’ve mentioned that.”
Lady Cressica didn’t even turn to face him. “Have I not?” she asked, though surely she knew she hadn’t. He could probably count all the words she’d uttered in his presence over three meetings on his fingers and toes. “Mother and I winter in Southampton.”
He should have called on Miss Jennings today. She, at least, could hold up her end of an exchange. But the thought of paying court to her did not create any sense of excitement within him. She was enjoyable enough to spend time with, certainly, and easy enough to look upon. Truly, she had no real faults.
Except, when he did spend time with her, inevitably, his thoughts drifted to someone else. Someone whose curves spoke to him at night, waking him from fitful dreams to lie awake for a fitful night. Someone with eyes of sparkling silver when she laughed, burning coal when she was in a temper, and cool grey clouds the rest of the time. Someone whom he had no business thinking of, when he ought to be entertaining his current companion, particularly since that precise someone had not exactly encouraged his attentions.
Better not to think about her at all. He was supposed to be trying to find someone else suitable to be his bride. Someone like Lady Cressica.
A curricle passed by them traveling the opposite direction, and its occupants called out a greeting. Noah smiled and waved, but Lady Cressica did not even make an effort at greeting them. Good gracious, could she not make herself presentable to anyone? Was it all too much of a bother? “Southampton? It must be lovely to live by the sea. I imagine it is similar to living in the Lake District, though much more vast. Tell me, have you ever gone for a swim in the ocean?”
Finally, she turned to him. Her eyes looked ready to pop free from their sockets, she held them so wide. “No,” she breathed. “Of course not.” Then her gaze regained its limp quality and she turned it aside from him, yet again fidgeting with her hands and repositioning them in precisely the same manner in her lap as they had been since she first climbed into his barouche.
Of course she would never swim in the sea. Lady Cressica Frost would never exclaim in delight over a puppy either, or string together more than six words in a row, or lose herself in awe over a display of fireworks.
A lifetime of marriage to this chit was something Noah could no longer convince himself to fathom. With every passing moment of her reticence, the likelihood of his being able to return the girl to her Curzon Street lodgings without first tossing himself headlong into the Serpentine to break the tedium of their jaunt grew bleaker.
He’d better head that direction now, before he did something drastic. Curzon Street, that was. Not the Serpentine. The water might prove too enticing. “Well,” he said. “Shall we return you to your mother’s care then?” Noah didn’t wait for her response. He caught his driver’s attention and signaled him to turn the conveyance around.
They had not traveled far in their return when he glimpsed the most welcome sight of the day. Walking arm-in-arm, Miss Faulkner was leading Lady Tabitha along the path directly toward them. Thank the good Lord. At least the two of them could provide him with a moment or two of conversation, something more than a monosyllabic response.
Noah raised a hand in greeting, and Miss Faulkner’s smile warmed him through as she returned his wave. Lady Tabitha neither waved nor smiled. He couldn’t decide if she seemed more panicked or agitated, from the flash of surprise that flickered through her eyes before just as briskly fading.
That would not be enough to deter him from calling out to them, however. Not today. Not after spending the better part of the last hour with the dour Lady Cressica.
“Lady Tabitha!” he called out as they drew nearer. Noah ignored the fact that the lady in question’s cousin seemed to be virtually pulling her along in order to be within reasonable range for conversation. “And Miss Faulkner. It is
quite a fine day to be out for a stroll, is it not? I trust that you’ve both met Lady Cressica Frost.”
At the sound of her name, Lady Cressica condescended to turn her head momentarily in their direction. She gave a curt nod with a pained smile upon her face. “Good afternoon,” quietly slipped from her lips—such a minute sound, Noah wondered if the other ladies could have possibly heard her.
“Good afternoon to you both,” Miss Faulkner said. “Lady Tabitha and I thought to get some exercise before our evening activities. How delightful that we’ve run into you. Don’t you agree, Tabby?”
Despite her cousin’s urgings, Lady Tabitha did not warm. “Yes. Quite diverting,” she said after Miss Faulkner stomped rather noticeably upon her toes. He’d thought her expression cool, dispassionate even, before the event. Now it was categorically frosty.
Noah quashed a chuckle, but Lady Cressica did not hold back her gasp of astonishment at their behavior.
“We’ll be attending Lady Landale’s entertainment this evening,” Miss Faulkner continued. “Might we expect to see either of you there? I understand there will be cards and charades, and any number of other diversions.”
“I regret to say I’ve already accepted an invitation to the Harringdon’s soiree.” Noah did regret it. He had a sudden and compelling desire to attend the very event that Miss Faulkner described. He wished he had not agreed to attend the Harringdon’s gathering. He wished he had received an invitation from Lady Landale. More than anything, he wished Lady Tabitha would look at him the same way her cousin was at the moment.
But Lady Tabitha wouldn’t look at him at all.
“Mother and I are attending the Harringdon ball as well,” Lady Cressica said.
Having not taken his eyes from Lady Tabitha’s face, Noah caught a fleeting glint in her eyes. Very curious. She’d never behaved so peculiarly in his presence before. He wasn’t certain what to make of it.
“I’m sure you’ll both have a delightful evening,” Miss Faulkner said.
Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) Page 6
