“Wonderful! Let us sit down and have a coze and get to know each other.”
Marianne watched with amusement as Ellen took the seat immediately beside Lavinia. The formerly shy parson’s daughter had become quite an impressive lady in the last year, confident in her position and her influence.
“Would you ring for tea, Clarissa?” Marianne requested, as Lavinia appeared slightly lost. Clarissa hurried to pull the bell, and then the two girls made a point of drawing Marianne to a sofa rather distant from where Ellen held their mother’s attention captive.
“How long have you been in London?” Marianne asked. “We only arrived yesterday, and Ellen sent one of her footmen out directly to determine if the knocker was on your door; I was so pleased to hear it was.”
“One week tomorrow,” Diana reported. “And we have already visited a museum and a library and spent two whole days on Bond Street being fitted for new gowns.”
Clarissa made a face at the latter. “I was never so bored in my life, nor stuck so many times with pins.”
“Because you would not stop fidgeting,” Diana smirked. Clarissa narrowed her eyes.
Marianne smiled, putting a hand on each girl’s wrist to distract them. They are still so very young, she thought, and sisterly rivalry sparked between them often even though they were also best friends. They had no idea how lucky they were. What she would have given to have a sister she could confide in!
“So, we are here to ask if you would join our party at the theatre tomorrow night. Ellen insisted we must come in person to extend the invitation, and I was delighted to agree. I do hope your mother will accept.”
Both girls immediately forgot their quibble and smiled with delight, falling over themselves to exclaim how gracious Lady Havers was to include them in her invitation.
“Do say we may go, Mama!” Clarissa cried out.
Lavinia pursed her lips. “You are not yet out, Clarissa,” she said sternly.
“Why, this is the opera, not a ball,” Ellen said serenely. “It is quite unexceptionable for a girl Clarissa’s age not yet out to attend some social events, you know. I consider it excellent practice for her own Season. Private dinner parties, public events such as the opera or exhibitions, even picnics when the weather improves. Of course, she cannot be courted yet, but I think it very unfair for younger sisters to be entirely excluded from the fun. How old are your younger children, again?”
“Our son Charles is fifteen, Lucinda fourteen and Penelope twelve,” Lavinia said a little ungraciously. “I hope you do not suggest we take them to the opera!”
“Of course not!” Ellen looked shocked. “Evening events are quite out of the question. Nevertheless, I intend to host a picnic and a few luncheons later in the year, and I do hope you will bring them along.”
“I was included in many events from the age of ten or so, when we lived in London,” Marianne put in. “With my governess in attendance, of course. Have you found someone suitable yet, Lavinia?” It could not hurt to press the point that she would not be available at Lavinia’s convenience. She would not put it past Lavinia to try and fob the younger girls off on her at events, and while she did not mind chaperoning Clarissa and Diana on occasion, she had no intention of sitting at the children’s table.
“Arthur and I interviewed candidates this week,” Lavinia said sulkily. “We offered a suitable candidate the post, and she begins on Monday.”
“Excellent,” Marianne said with a nod, holding Lavinia’s eyes until the other woman flushed and looked away.
“You intend to remain with the Havers then, Aunt Marianne?” Clarissa murmured as Ellen asked Lavinia another question, ending the awkward silence.
“For the time being, at least. Though I miss you girls, I’m afraid living in your parents’ household was not a comfortable situation for me.”
Diana squeezed her hand sympathetically. “We quite understand,” she said, her voice soft. “Mama and Papa have changed since Papa inherited the earldom. We are no longer permitted to associate with our friends, girls we went to school with, because they are not situated high enough in life. Everyone else is now lesser, just because of an accident of birth.”
Marianne shook her head with an impatient sigh. “Foolish,” she muttered. “If your mother treats anyone without a title as lesser, she will quickly make enemies of some of the most powerful people in London.”
“She’s determined Diana must marry an earl at least,” Clarissa said. “She has been making lists of all the unmarried peers in London.”
“Some of them are older than Papa!” Diana’s look of horror was unfeigned.
Marianne clasped her niece's hand, shaken to the core at the thought of history repeating. “I won’t let you be forced into marriage to any man not of your choosing. Either of you,” she declared passionately. “I swear it.”
)
“How wonderful this is!” Diana whispered, clutching at Marianne’s arm as they took their seats in the front row of the Havers box. Lavinia sat on Diana’s other side, trying to hide her own wonder as she gazed around the brightly lit theatre and the glittering throng taking their seats. Clarissa sat at the end, hands folded demurely in her lap, but her eyes were bright with interest as she took in everything around her.
Ellen had insisted Marianne and her nieces take the front row, while she sat behind with Thomas and Arthur. Only Marianne realised it was no sacrifice for Ellen to sit beside Thomas and hold his hand throughout the performance, rather than sit in the front row under full scrutiny of the interested audience.
Marianne had already seen any number of friends, a lot of them waving and smiling. Rather too many men - she hesitated to call them gentlemen - of her acquaintance were eyeing her blue dress with a blue and silver cape, smiling invitingly at her. Sighing, she mentally girded herself for the propositions she would no doubt have to waste far too much of her time rejecting, gently and otherwise. At least staying with the Havers would give her protection from the most importunate, who might be inclined to persist if she had her own household.
“Do you know that gentleman, Aunt Marianne?” Diana asked then.
“Don’t point, dear.” Marianne caught Diana’s hand on the way up, pressing it back to her lap. “Just direct with your eyes, and describe him.”
“The box across the way,” Diana said, blushing at having almost made a gauche mistake. “The tall, handsome gentleman with a scar, in a blue coat in a box directly across the theatre. There is an older lady with him wearing a burgundy dress; she has a lot of feathers in her hair.”
“Oh!” Marianne smiled as she saw Alexander, standing in his box looking directly at her. “That is Alexander Rotherhithe, Marquis of Glenkellie, and though I am not acquainted with her that must be his mother with him, the Dowager Marchioness.”
“A marquis?” Diana looked as though she might faint.
Lavinia immediately leaned across her. “And is there a current Marchioness of Glenkellie, Aunt?”
“No,” Marianne said, and honesty compelled her to admit, “I believe he is in the market for a wife, however. He is but lately come to the title; he spent quite a few years in the army and on the Continent.”
“A war hero, too?” Lavinia looked delighted. “You must introduce us at the interval, Aunt!”
Marianne was saved from having to answer by Ellen leaning forward and saying “I must stake a prior claim, Lavinia; I want to introduce you to Sarah Child Villiers, Lady Jersey. I spy her here tonight and we must appeal to her for vouchers to Almack's.”
“Oh, yes, that is infinitely more important,” Marianne said, relieved Ellen had stepped in to distract Lavinia’s attention. “You can meet Glenkellie another time, but you will have only one opportunity to make a good first impression on Lady Jersey.”
Thankfully, that made Lavinia subside into nervous silence as the curtain opened and the performance began.
At the interval, Ellen lost no time in hurrying Lavinia off to meet Lady Jersey, asking Thomas
and Arthur to get some refreshments and Marianne to remain in the box with Diana and Clarissa -- a request Marianne was more than happy to honour.
Beckoning Clarissa to move one seat closer so they could hear each other over the din of the audience, Marianne asked the girls how they were enjoying the play and listened indulgently to their excited chatter.
When the door opened behind her, she glanced around, assuming Thomas and Arthur were returning. The tall figure entering the box, however, accompanied by the lady in the burgundy dress with the mass of feathers in her hair, was Alexander.
Chapter Seventeen
)
Spotting Marianne at the theatre was a stroke of luck. Thomas had sent around a note letting Alex know the Havers party had arrived in London, but he had been fully tied up with business and engagements with his mother -- who was utterly determined to see him married before she departed for Italy in April. He hardly dared let her out alone in case she promised him to some bacon-brained chit.
Marianne’s jewellery had been remarkably easy to dispose of. Garrard’s had been delighted to assist, telling him the former Earl of Creighton had always wanted their most unusual and collectible pieces for his wife, many of which had now increased in value. They suggested an agent who quickly found buyers for almost all the pieces, in some cases achieving a price a good deal in excess of the original purchase price. Alex had engaged Mr. Coutts to open a bank account in Marianne’s name, depositing all the monies into it, and was eager to give her the good news.
Therefore, at the interval, he insisted his mother accompany him to the Havers box. Intrigued by the possibility of meeting the American arl she’d heard was busy setting Parliament on its ear with his radical ideas, she agreed.
Despite seeing Thomas in the passageway, Alex nodded and walked straight on past him. It had just occurred to him that his mother, impossible though she could be, might actually be his best ally in convincing Marianne marriage might suit her. Most especially if Alexander were the groom. If the last two weeks of being paraded before every marriageable young woman in London had done anything, it had convinced him Marianne was still the only woman who could possibly make him happy. Whether he could make her so remained to be seen, but he was willing to spend the rest of his life trying.
Marianne’s startled expression as she rose to her feet and dipped a curtsey immediately had Alex second-guessing whether he should have waited to introduce his mother to her. “Lady Creighton.” He bowed formally. “Mother, please allow me to present Marianne, Lady Creighton to you? Lady Creighton, my mother Lady Helena, the Dowager Marchioness of Glenkellie.”
“Lady Glenkellie.” Marianne gave a lower, more respectful curtsey.
“Are you the widow or the new one?” Lady Helena Glenkellie asked bluntly.
Marianne’s lips twitched slightly, and Alex knew she’d bitten back a laugh. “I’m the widow, my lady. My niece the Countess has just stepped out with Lady Havers to go and meet Lady Jersey, I believe.”
“Ah, Sarah.” Alex’s mother smirked. “Need vouchers, do you? For these two gels, or yourself?”
“Lady Jersey is a friend of mine already, my lady. Pray, allow me to make known to you Lady Diana Creighton and Lady Clarissa Creighton,” Marianne said, and the two girls sank into deep curtseys, expressions of awe on their faces. “I call them my nieces; it is easier than explaining the complexities of our actual relationship. Diana, Clarissa; Lord Glenkellie and Lady Helena Glenkellie.”
“Both out, are you?” Alex’s mother examined the two girls with a critical eye. Alex could have told her the answer from their dress; while Diana was wearing a lovely white gown with a faint silver stripe in it, perfect for a debutante, Clarissa’s dark blue gown with tiny white spots was much more plain and demure.
“Lady Diana is making her come-out this Season,” Marianne replied. “Clarissa is only just seventeen and will wait until next year, though her parents are permitting her to attend some social events to gain experience.”
“Very wise, too.” Lady Glenkellie cast one more glance over Clarissa before obviously dismissing her and turning her full attention to Diana. She seemed to like what she saw, because she glanced at Alex and smiled. “Do you attend the Balford ball on Friday, Lady Diana?”
“I don’t believe we have been invited, my lady,” Diana said in a small voice, looking nervously at Marianne.
“I shall ensure you receive an invitation. The Duchess of Balford is a particular friend of mine.” Lady Glenkellie nodded imperiously.
“That is most generous of you, my lady.” Marianne curtseyed again, and Diana and Clarissa followed her lead.
The dowager marchioness looked back at Marianne and blinked, almost as though she had forgotten her presence. “Yes. Well. I daresay we shall see you there, shan’t we, Alexander?”
“I look forward to it greatly,” Alex said, with a smile at Marianne.
“You should ask Lady Diana for a dance now. No doubt she will be swarmed with eager young swains before you get a look in, otherwise.”
Alex gaped at his mother in surprise. She’s got entirely the wrong end of the stick, he thought. “Ah… yes,” he said, caught out by the unexpected manoeuvre. “Lady Diana, might I request a dance with you at the Balford ball?”
“The first dance,” his mother pushed.
Diana looked at Marianne, wide-eyed. Marianne nodded encouragingly.
“I should be honoured, Lord Glenkellie,” the girl said shyly, blushing scarlet.
“Excellent. I take it we will not have the pleasure of your company, Lady Clarissa?”
“I regret you are correct.” Clarissa smiled at him, apparently a little less shy than her older sister. “Balls are quite out of the question for me this year, I’m afraid.”
“It is Society’s loss.” Alexander bowed his head to her. “In that case, Lady Marianne, might I solicit the honour of your hand for the second dance?”
Marianne looked utterly startled. Diana and Clarissa looked quite delighted, and his mother - his mother turned to him with her mouth wide open with shock.
“Alexander, what are you doing?” she demanded.
“I am asking a delightful lady, whom I consider to be a good friend, to reserve me a dance at a ball we will both attend,” Alex said, trying to sound calm and placid, as though dancing with Marianne wasn’t one of the most desirable things he could imagine.
“Well,” Marianne said uncertainly. “I had not intended to dance…”
“But Aunt Marianne, you keep telling us how much you miss dancing!” Clarissa said, and Alex shot her a grateful glance. The minx gave him a conspiratorial wink, and he bit back a shout of laughter. She, at least, knew precisely what he was about.
“I do miss dancing.” Marianne nibbled on her lower lip briefly before giving a decisive nod. “I am my own woman these days, beholden to nobody else’s good opinion of me. Very well, Lord Glenkellie, I should be delighted to give you the second dance at the Balford ball.”
Alex couldn’t restrain his smile of triumph. With a kiss to Marianne’s hand, he followed his mother from the Havers box and back around to the other side of the theatre, knowing once they were away from prying ears, the interrogation would come. The Dowager Marchioness of Glenkellie missed nothing.
“What are you thinking!” his mother hissed as soon as they were once again seated in their own box. “Wasting your time asking that woman for a dance!”
“Why is it a waste of my time?” He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Because you need someone to give you an heir, and in eight years of marriage, she didn’t conceive once.” Lady Helena pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Mother, Creighton had three wives and none of them ever conceived. Does that not suggest perhaps the fault might not be with the wives?” Alexander had taken the time to research the late earl once he arrived back in London, and been horrified by what he found. Both Countesses of Creighton prior to Marianne had not lived into their thirties, their deat
hs unexplained.
The suggestion gave his mother pause. “Best not to risk it, nevertheless,” she said. “You should choose a girl from a family of proven breeders. One of those younger Creighton girls will do nicely, if you want to ally yourself with the family; there’s a whole pack of them, I believe, though they’re mostly girls.”
“They’re children, Mother.”
“You’re barely ten years Lady Diana’s senior!” Still, she frowned when he just looked back at her. “You are quite set on her, then?”
“If she will have me.”
“She’s a fool if she won’t.” The dowager marchioness snorted magnificently, looking back across the theatre to where Marianne sat talking with her nieces, now rejoined by Thomas and Arthur. “She’s very beautiful, I suppose,” she said, “but how well do you really know her?”
Alex smiled. “Do you remember my letters home, from Portugal and Spain?”
“Indeed I do, infrequent though they were.” His mother tapped him on the knee with her fan. “I was constantly trying to convince you to leave the army and come home where it was safe, but your letters were full of how you were making a difference out there.”
“And?” he pressed. “Do you recall anything else I said?”
“Oh, there was some nonsense about how you couldn’t bear to come back to England because the girl you were in love with had thrown you over and married some wealthy old earl…” the marchioness tapered off, her eyes widening. “No. You don’t mean her?”
“The Honourable Miss Marianne Abingdon,” Alex said wistfully. “We were both young and naive, and while she promised to wait for me, her father’s gambling debts were such that a valuable asset like a daughter hailed as the most beautiful girl in London wasn’t to be wasted on the likes of me, fourth in line with naught but an army commission to my name.”
A Marquis For Marianne (Blushing Brides Book 2) Page 11
