“I’m sure you do.” Marianne hesitated, then thought she might as well ask. “Did any of the servants at Havers Hall speak much of Lord Glenkellie? I know he was only there a few days, before he had to return to London, and he brought his own manservant with him, so perhaps they didn’t have much to do with him.”
“Not so much, you’re right, my lady, but everyone as did serve him said he was right civil, ‘specially for bein’ so high a lord, you know. And his man Simons was fair devoted. Said as how Lord Glenkellie is the best master he could ask for, and everyone who serves him thinks the same. Me, I think anyone Lord and Lady Havers choose as a friend must be one of the finest people in England,” Jean insisted. “They chose you, didn’t they?”
Marianne chuckled. “Well, one could say I rather thrust myself upon them, in fact, but I will accept your compliment at face value, Jean. For I too think Lord and Lady Havers are excellent judges of character.”
)
Lady Jersey received their little group in her fabulously overdecorated Indian parlour. Marianne, who had been there once before, stifled laughter as Ellen and the Creighton ladies looked around agape. Catching Sarah Child Villiers’ eye, she had to look away to compose herself.
Ellen finally pulled herself together to present Lavinia, Diana, and Clarissa to Lady Jersey. Though Clarissa had not technically been invited, Lavinia had insisted she come along anyway, and received exactly what she deserved for her presumption. Lady Jersey looked Clarissa up and down once and said, “Should you not be in the schoolroom, child? There are some kittens in the mews, I believe; go with Frost to see them and Cook shall give you a glass of milk after.”
Clarissa was quite obviously laughing as she left in the wake of the imperious butler, and Diana’s longing expression said she would far rather be going with her sister than sitting down to take tea with one former and three current countesses.
Marianne didn’t blame Diana. She would rather be going to the stables too than face another Lady Jersey interrogation, but the arbiter of the Ton was a very perceptive woman who had seen past the aloof face Marianne had been forced to present to the world by her husband, had been kind to her and invited her into her circle of friends. It was a debt of kindness Marianne could never repay, so she settled herself on a chaise, pasted on an attentive expression, and accepted a lemon biscuit.
“So you’re Diana.” Sarah inspected the quaking debutante with a gimlet eye. “What’s your dowry again, girl?”
“Ten thousand pounds,” Lavinia said smugly, “and Clarissa will have as much next year.”
Lady Jersey turned her gaze on Lavinia. Not a word was said, but Lavinia shrank back into her seat and clamped her lips shut.
“What do you like, Diana?” Lady Jersey asked, and Diana gulped, glancing at her mother. Lavinia nodded.
“I am accomplished on the pianoforte and sing tolerably well,” Diana said in a small voice. “I enjoy needlework and drawing with pencils. I speak French and some Italian…”
“Same as every other young woman of your rank this season, if not a little less,” Lady Jersey said with a sniff, and Diana looked as though she might cry. Sarah’s tone softened. “I mean, what do you like? What do you enjoy doing, if you have nobody to please but yourself?”
“Oh,” Diana said, obviously surprised. “Well… I really do like drawing. Animals in particular. I drew Father’s dogs, Apollo and Ares, and Father liked it so much he had it framed and hung it on the wall of his study.”
Lady Jersey nodded encouragingly. “Animals are good. Many young men are very fond of their dogs and horses. If you are able, for example, to draw each of his horses well enough to show its distinguishing features, he will very likely declare himself in love with you on the instant.”
Diana let out a laugh before recalling herself and turning it into a ladylike giggle behind her hand. Sarah winked at Marianne, and she let out a sigh of relief. Diana had managed to endear herself to Sarah, and the influential countess would throw her in the path of not only eligible young men, but ones whom she might like and respect.
“Well, I think you’ll take very well, my dear,” Lady Jersey said, giving her stamp of approval. “I hope you’ll take my advice, which is to always let young men know what you’re really thinking. Girls who pretend they’re hanging on an idiot’s every word tend to find themselves married to the idiot in question.”
Ellen laughed at that; Lavinia was staring pop-eyed and indignant, but still too intimidated to speak.
“I must agree,” Marianne said, drawing Diana’s eyes to her. “A man who will not respect your opinions and your wishes is not a man you would want to become more closely acquainted with. Do not wait until you are already committed to let him know who you truly are.”
“I will endeavour always to keep that in mind,” Diana said. “Thank you for your advice, Lady Jersey. Aunt Marianne.”
“Speaking of advice,” Lady Jersey said, “I understand you have spent very little time in London, Lady Creighton?”
Lavinia flushed and looked a little angry to be called on so, but she answered. “Yes, my lady, that’s so. My parents did not care to travel much from Durham, where our home was, and where I met my husband.”
“You should listen carefully to your aunt.” Sarah indicated Marianne. “She has successfully navigated the dangerous waters of London’s upper society for years now. Allow her to guide your daughters and they will do very well.”
Lavinia spluttered. “But - but - Marianne isn’t married!”
“You make an excellent point.” There was a familiar, wicked glint in Sarah’s eye. “Do you have any suitable candidates in mind, Marianne?”
“I think your ladyship knows perfectly well that I do not wish to remarry.” Marianne remained cool and composed, her hands folded in her lap.
“You cannot let one bad experience put you off for life. ‘Tis rather like riding a horse; you fall off, you must get right back on!”
“Nevertheless,” Marianne said levelly.
“Well, we shall see. I shan’t press you, not this year, but I think ‘twould be a shame if you closed yourself off from the possibility entirely.” Sarah’s voice was quite gentle. “You have a great capacity to love, my dear. I would not like to see you wasted as a lonely widow forever.”
Marianne looked down, tears pricking at the back of her eyelids. “Thank you for your concern, my lady, but I pray you do not trouble yourself over me. I am very content as I am and wish only to focus on seeing my dear nieces well-settled.”
There was a long moment of silence, and Marianne finally lifted her eyes to glance at Sarah, finding the other woman studying her with a slight frown. Essaying a small smile, Marianne prayed her friend would accept her decision.
“Very well,” Lady Jersey said finally. “Lady Creighton, I am pleased to advise your application for subscription at Almack’s is approved for this year.” Leaning forward, she slid open a drawer in the small occasional table before her and removed a stack of pasteboard rectangles. “Three vouchers, for yourself, the Earl and the Lady Diana.” She counted out three of the tickets and handed them to Lavinia, who gushed her thanks.
“Yes, yes.” With an irritated wave of her hand, Sarah cut Lavinia off. “And here are yours, Ellen.” She handed three more over.
“Three?” Marianne asked.
“One is yours, of course.” Ellen pressed it into her hand.
“Oh… but I did not apply.” She did not have the ten guineas for the subscription, or had not until that morning. She would have to visit Coutts again to pay Ellen back.
“I applied on your behalf. I could not possibly do without your company in my first full season trying to fit in with the Ton, Marianne. Besides, I shall quite depend on you to rein in Thomas’ Americanisms, lest he offend someone unintentionally!”
Marianne smiled fondly at her friend. “I’m not sure Lord Havers is capable of offending anyone; he is far too nice!”
“Unless you mention the slave t
rade,” Sarah remarked. “I rather thought he and Portland might come to blows when the topic came up at the Fulton dinner party! Portland was convinced he would be anti-emancipation, ” she added to Marianne, who almost choked. She’d heard Thomas rage about the inhumanity of the slave trade on more than one occasion.
“Oh, please don’t mention that again,” Ellen begged. “I had rather hoped everyone forgot it.”
“Quite the opposite. Castlereagh has spoken of it often with great admiration. I believe he is rather hoping Lord Havers will speak as eloquently on the topic in the House of Lords this year.”
“Have no doubt of it.” Ellen acknowledged Lady Jersey’s approval.
Sarah nodded before reaching for a bell-pull beside her chair. “I shall have Frost fetch your other daughter, Lady Creighton. Pray excuse me; I am promised to a soiree at the Drummond-Burrells this evening.”
“Thank you so much for your time, Lady Jersey.” Taking her cue, Lavinia rose and offered a curtsey; Diana quickly followed suit. Ellen and Marianne made their farewells a little more leisurely, confident Lady Jersey’s favour was not about to be withdrawn if they made the slightest misstep.
Clarissa met them in the entrance hall, taking her sister’s arm and whispering to her. Diana still looked pale and nervous, but managed to respond to Clarissa’s questioning with a small smile. Marianne was confident Diana would be fine, though it might take her some time to find her confidence among the London crowd. At least she had plenty of people looking out for her, unlike Marianne herself. There had been no one at all to speak for Marianne when her father had forced her into a hasty marriage, nobody she might have run to for help.
What could anyone have done, anyway? Marianne mused as she sat opposite Ellen in the Havers carriage on their way home. She’d been eighteen and legally under her father’s control. If Arthur decided to marry Diana off to some crony of his, there was little anyone could do about it legally. Outside the law - well, Marianne was quite certain she could smuggle herself and Diana onto a ship bound for the Americas, if it came to that. With her newfound wealth, opportunities presented which had never been open to her before.
“You look very thoughtful; what is on your mind?” Ellen asked from the other side of the carriage.
Marianne answered unthinkingly. “Running away to the Americas.”
“Good God, not really?” Ellen looked shocked.
“Not really.” Marianne gave her a reassuring smile. “Not for myself, at any rate, though should Diana find herself in an untenable situation due to Arthur or Lavinia’s machinations, I would not hesitate to take her beyond their reach.”
“Good for you,” Ellen said. “I was in an untenable situation myself after my parents died and before Thomas took me in as part of the Havers family. Knowing there is a possible escape route would be a great comfort to any young woman, I think. I hope you will assure Diana, and Clarissa of course, that they may call upon Thomas and me as well as yourself should they need advice or assistance in anything.”
“I shall, and thank you,” Marianne said. “It’s not that I think Arthur would do anything as terrible as what my father did to me, of course, but… well, Lavinia is very socially ambitious. I wouldn’t put it past her to arrange a convenient compromise. I intend to take my chaperoning duties very seriously and attend every event to which they are invited.”
“I will be right there beside you,” Ellen promised. “It will be good practice, after all, for if I have daughters of my own one day!” Her hand slid to her stomach.
Marianne’s eyes widened. “Are you expecting?” she gasped, excited for her friend.
“Perhaps.” Ellen leaned close and lowered her voice, though they were quite alone. “I feel dreadfully queasy in the mornings. Susan has taken to bringing me tea and dry biscuits while I am still in bed, to stave off the nausea. I’ve made an appointment for the doctor to come tomorrow morning, while Thomas will be out. Will you attend me?”
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“I want to wait until I am quite sure.” Ellen looked down at her hands. “I quite understand if you don’t want to. It must be a difficult subject for you.”
It was at times like this she was forcibly recalled to the fact that while Ellen acted with remarkable maturity, the Countess of Havers was still only just turned one-and-twenty.
“I never, for one instant, wanted to bring a child into my marriage,” Marianne stated with some force. Ellen stared at her wide-eyed, and she admitted, “Which does not mean, I never wanted a baby of my own.”
Ellen didn’t seem to know what to say, and Marianne was grateful the carriage halted just then outside the townhouse. It had been years since she’d dreamed of a child of her own, yet thinking of it now awakened feelings she had thought long dead. Unexpectedly, she found herself longing for a baby, a little boy perhaps with his father’s dark hair and blue eyes.
When she realised she was imagining her son as Alexander’s, she ran up the stairs as though chased by wolves, leaving a startled Ellen in her wake, hoping she hadn’t upset her friend too badly.
Chapter Twenty
)
Brooks’ Gentlemen’s Club
“You’ll never believe who I saw at Almack’s yestereve,” a loud voice announced behind Alexander, making him sigh and frown at his newspaper. He’d taken to spending afternoons at his club to escape the unending stream of guests visiting his mother, most of them accompanied by eligible daughters, sisters, nieces, or friends they hoped to throw at his head. He’d been rather enjoying the peace until the reading room was invaded by a couple of fools intent on rehashing their entire year to date, it seemed.
Now they had been joined by a third, even louder than the original two. Alexander was about to hush them when the newcomer spoke a name which froze him in place.
“Lady Creighton.”
“What, the new one? Met her last week, she’s got a daughter she’s trying to fire off. Drab little thing.”
“She has ten thousand, she’s not so drab. Probably why the Patronesses gave them vouchers.”
“Not the new one or her daughter, though they were both there too. I’m talking about the former one, whose given name is apparently Marianne. Marianne, Lady Creighton.” The newcomer sighed it so dreamily Alexander couldn’t quite help lowering his newspaper to see which silly youngster was mooning over Marianne.
His eyes widened with shock when he saw neither the newcomer nor the two he had joined were young; they were all men in their thirties, men for whom Alexander held at least some degree of respect. The one just slumping into a seat was Lord Ferry, second son of a duke and a wealthy man in his own right. Married, too, unless Alexander misremembered, but he was sure he’d met Lady Ferry at some event or other in the past year.
“She’s more beautiful than ever,” Lord Ferry continued. “And without that old fart Creighton around, she’s smiling and dancing. I finally got that dance with her I’ve been begging years for.”
Viscount Snowfield laughed, not unkindly. “Bit late now to make a play for her, ain’t it? You’ve a wife and two brats at home.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. The lady has been telling everyone who will listen she has no intention of marrying again.” Ferry’s smile was sly. “And you know what that means. She plans to be a merry widow.”
Sir Edward Mullins, the third of the little party, sat up, suddenly paying attention. “Are you saying she’d accept a slip on the shoulder?”
“I think the lady knows her value and would be very expensive, but yes. I plan to offer her carte blanche.” Ferry looked smug. “I know the way to her heart, I think. Her jewels all stayed with the Creighton coffers; she wore only a very plain little cross, whereas the new countess was wearing a spectacular diamond and ruby necklace. I’ll buy her a diamond bracelet or two and set her up in a nice house wherever she wishes. Not many can match my resources.”
“And most of those who can are as old as her first husband; I don’t
doubt she’ll prefer someone who doesn’t have one foot in the grave!” Snowfield laughed again, though Mullins looked a little disgruntled. “Well, I wish you luck in your pursuit, my friend. Will your wife object?”
“No, Honoria knows her place. She’s breeding again, besides. I sent her back to stay with my parents.”
Ferry’s smile was so smug Alexander debated getting up just to punch it off his face. How dare the bastard talk about Marianne that way? How dare he even think it?
Starting a fight in the middle of Brooks’ wouldn’t help the situation, though. Alex briefly considered challenging Lord Ferry to defend Marianne’s honour, but that would only fuel more gossip. All London would be saying that Marianne was already Alex’s mistress within hours if he did challenge Ferry, which would do nobody any favours.
So instead of losing his temper, he folded his newspaper and laid it down on the table before getting up and leaving, offering a silent nod to the three men as he passed.
It wasn’t a long walk to Cavendish Square, where the Havers had their townhouse. Alexander strode along briskly, temper simmering just below the surface. I should have foreseen something like this happening, he berated himself. He could not blame Marianne; she was only trying to protect herself, but in doing so she had accidentally opened herself to a far more iniquitous type of pursuit from gentlemen with less noble things on their minds than marriage.
“Good afternoon, Lord Glenkellie,” the butler greeted him at the door. “Lord Havers is not at home this afternoon, I’m afraid.”
“I was hoping to see Lady Havers and Lady Marianne, as it happens.”
“Oh, they are but lately returned from shopping on Bond Street, my lord. I will see if Lady Havers will receive you, if you would care to wait?”
Alexander thrust his hat into the obliging man’s hands. “Thank you, I will. If you wouldn’t mind conveying that the matter is urgent?”
A Marquis For Marianne (Blushing Brides Book 2) Page 13
