‘Thank you, for being there,’ she whispered.
Silence met her, then a gentle snore. She was asleep.
Thorwynn’s grandmother returned to London from her country residence, and Lady Bullfinch went immediately to call on her. Left to her own devices, Julia took the opportunity to go out. She needed to overcome the sense of dejection that had assailed her the night before, and what better way than to refocus her efforts on finding herself a suitor. A suitable suitor.
Unlike Lord Thorwynn. Who was as unsuitable as could be. With a lady clinging to his arm wherever he went. He had left the ball with the turbaned lady, their heads close together, laughing. She had no doubt where they were going.
That was not the kind of husband she needed. Any more than she needed a father who considered her very existence an irritant.
So she went to Montague House, to the British Museum. It was a good place to find herself someone earnest like her, who shared the same interests, whom she could talk to, for heaven’s sake.
Besides, she had offered to show Amelia the Elgin Marbles.
She met her in the exhibition room. Amelia, gaping with open curiosity, appeared discomfited at the sight of so many naked men.
‘I’m so glad you arrived. I felt very strange standing here alone with all these – figures to look at. I asked my maid Hannah to wait outside in the carriage, you see.’ She slipped her elbow into Julia’s and began to walk around the hall. ‘I told Mama I was going to a museum with you. She wasn’t very happy about it. I think she’s worried that being a bluestocking will rub off on me.’ She grinned at her companion. ‘She agreed to let me meet you, because she thinks that if you go somewhere, Lord Thorwynn is bound to turn up. She still has high hopes for me with him. As if I’d look at him twice.’
Julia raised her eyebrow.
‘Well, I wouldn’t, and I’m not going to pretend, just because you like him,’ she said, incorrigibly.
Julia wondered if she had done the girl a favour by encouraging her outspokenness. But her high spirits amused her, and were a balm at this moment when she needed something to soothe her bruised sensibilities. Amelia would certainly cheer her from her fit of the doldrums.
‘Your mother’s wrong about Lord Thorwynn. He would certainly never meet me here. I doubt very much he is in the habit of visiting museums,’ said Julia.
Amelia clearly had not the slightest interest in Thorwynn’s habits. She was examining the marbles surrounding her. ‘Mama could not have seen the marbles,’ giggled Amelia. ‘She certainly wouldn’t approve of him.’ She pointed to a nude male figure with nothing like a fig leaf anywhere in sight. ‘Is that really what they look like?’ she asked. ‘Men, I mean?’
The blood rushed up to Julia’s face. She had seen the statues and the friezes many times, but had always examined them as one should, as supreme examples of Classical Art. She had never been unladylike enough to stare as Amelia did. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said, embarrassed by Amelia’s directness.
Amelia tilted her head and inspected her with a directness that was disconcerting. ‘I thought perhaps since you were older – and Mama is always going on about how you could corrupt me, and you were kissing Lord Thorwynn in the library …’
Julia met that direct gaze with difficulty. ‘I – no, I have not.’ She admitted it with embarrassment. It was as if Amelia had discovered something shameful about her. She realized she was not proud of her lack of experience, even if it was only what was expected of her.
Amelia’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands. ‘Well, good. Because now you can’t act as superior as you like to do.’ She lowered her voice to a near whisper. ‘So we might as well take advantage of the fact that there’s no one here, and examine those statues rather closely, don’t you think? I’d like to know what men actually look like, wouldn’t you?’
The expression of mischief on Amelia’s face was irresistible. Julia glanced around the gallery carefully to be sure they were completely alone. Then, drawn in by Amelia’s little game, she followed the girl, and before she knew it, she was giggling along with her.
They were engaged in viewing a particularly intriguing male torso, consumed with hilarity, when the sound of footsteps caused Julia to jump back and look elsewhere. Amelia, similarly, clasped her hands in front of her and looked cherubic.
The footsteps came closer, accompanied by the sound of male voices. One of the men was explaining the origin of some of the statues.
As the men came around the corner, Julia stared, her mouth opening in shock. Her whole universe shifted, turning upside down.
‘Oh,’ said Amelia, in a hoarse whisper. ‘He did come. Mother was right.’
Julia pulled herself together. She closed her mouth, and her brain raced. She knew both men. The notorious Lord Elgin, his misshapen face looking like one of his broken friezes. And Lionel, who had not yet seen her, but who was engaged in a serious discussion regarding one of the metopes.
For a moment Lionel was too involved in his conversation to notice her. The moment he saw her, however, the serious expression disappeared, replaced quickly by one of cynical amusement. He interrupted Lord Elgin, directing him over to where Julia stood.
‘A very pleasant surprise,’ he said, bowing to Julia and Amelia in turn. ‘May I present Lord Elgin, Miss Swifton, Miss Neville?’
Amelia, who did not seem bothered by Lord Elgin’s unfortunate looks, was thrilled to learn she was meeting the very man who had put the collection together. She began showering him with questions, some of them revealing that she knew far more about the marbles than she had let on.
‘So, Miss Swifton, do you find the male physique intriguing?’ said Lionel, in an undertone.
Julia stiffened. He could not have heard them giggling before their arrival.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Julia, frostily.
Lionel indicated the frieze in front of her. It was of a naked man. Heat rose up to her face. She knew she was turning a very unbecoming shade of purple.
‘I – I was examining the minotaur,’ she said quickly.
‘Ah,’ said Lionel, suggestively. If possible, she turned an even darker purple. She knew without looking again that the horse displayed properties that would have made him a good stud.
He grinned, enjoying her discomfort. ‘I am sorry to hear you find us poor mortal men lacking. You may perhaps be disappointed, however, if you were hoping for a minotaur to appear in your life.’
She glared at him. How typical of Lionel to rub it in.
‘It so happens,’ she said, stiffly, ‘that I am interested in Greek sculpture, and the minotaurs of Phideus are of particular interest to me.’
‘Is that so?’ said Lionel, his eyes twinkling. ‘I beg your pardon for misinterpreting your interest. I thought I heard laughter when I was entering the hall. But perhaps I misheard.’
She ignored him, pointedly changing the conversation. ‘How is your mother faring?’ With the aid of her concoctions, I believe, she is keeping herself alive,’ he replied, with a smile. She tried to stay serious, but she could not. In spite of herself, her mouth began to curl. ‘I’m certainly glad to hear it,’ she said, her eyes dancing in turn.
Lord Elgin excused himself, inviting Amelia and Julia for a personal tour of the marbles, and withdrew.
‘If you’ve finished with your scholarly perusal, ladies,’ said Lionel, ‘perhaps you would care to accompany me to something less’ – he paused, apparently in search of the right word – ‘dusty.’ He threw Julia a mischievous glance, making it clear he had not meant dusty at all. ‘Since the weather is so pleasant, shall we go to Gunter’s, for some ices?’
Amelia shot Julia an amused glance. ‘Certainly,’ she replied, very prettily, ‘my mother – I mean – I would be delighted.’
Julia glared back at the girl. She really had to speak to her about watching what she said.
Amelia dismissed her waiting carriage with a message to Lady Medlow that they were going to Gunt
er’s with Lord Thorwynn. She was clearly relishing the situation.
In Berkeley Square they sat inside while Lionel sprang down to stand outside the barouche. Julia watched the waiters scurry to and fro as she always did, marvelling at their ability to carry heavy salvers and trays across the busy road. Today their waiter was a very thin, snakelike man who slithered through the traffic, emerging miraculously intact to take their order.
They ordered a selection of fruit glaces and. frozen punches. When the confections arrived, Amelia exclaimed enthusiastically over the perfection of the frozen forms.
‘If I didn’t know we were at Gunter’s,’ she said, refusing to let anyone touch them, ‘I would have thought this was a real apricot!’ She stared at them so long, Julia protested that they would melt in the sun.
Lionel’s manners left nothing to be desired. He was perfectly correct. He ate his ices outside, as was the custom, leaning gracefully against the railings. The three of them exchanged pleasantries and laughed as Amelia tried to salvage a large piece of her confection which slipped out of her reach.
All was well, until Julia asked him playfully about his presence at the museum.
‘I did not know you had an interest classical studies,’ she said. ‘It seems you have more of an interest in such things than you are willing to admit.’
The shuttered look that was starting to look familiar swept across his face, a curtain keeping her out.
‘Lord Elgin was kind enough to offer me a private tour. I could not refuse,’ he replied.
Julia wanted to mention that she had overheard one or two of his remarks, and they revealed more than a casual interest, but she held back.
A tension filled the air which had been completely absent only a few heartbeats ago.
Amelia, impervious to the sudden atmosphere, launched into an exuberant account of some of Lord Elgin’s revelations to her. Lionel listened with a clear expression of boredom on his face. Julia, wishing more than anything to disprove Lionel’s earlier conviction that she knew nothing about the marbles, plied her young friend with questions.
Amelia finally put an end to the conversation. ‘La! It’s a very good thing Mama isn’t here. If she heard this conversation she would be convinced I had turned into a bluestocking.’
Lionel, of course, politely refuted that possibility. ‘No one could possibly think such a beautiful young lady would carry a thought in her head,’ he said, gallantly, but he laughed as he looked up at her in the carriage.
Amelia gave him a corresponding laugh. ‘Perhaps I have a few thoughts in my head,’ said Amelia. ‘But it would not do to reveal them, would it?’
Julia could not help but exclaim at her words. ‘Perhaps that is true, if you only wish to encourage the most trivial of suitors. But I’m certain it would not drive away any gentleman of integrity and intelligence.’ She turned to include Lionel. ‘What is your opinion, Lord Thorwynn?’
His eyes met hers. ‘I believe any man of intelligence will be delighted to encounter a lady with whom he can have an intelligent conversation,’ he said, seriously.
Then, perhaps realizing the conversation had taken too heavy a turn, he shrugged. ‘Although there is something to be said for levity. One does not want to be perpetually straining one’s thoughts,’ he added. ‘Which brings us back to this moment, under the sunshine, enjoying Gunter’s confections. I would not want to waste such a pleasant circumstance discussing such solemn topics.’
Julia turned away from him, not wanting him to see her disappointment. She had been on the verge of revising her opinion of him. She was beginning to feel there was a different side to him. But instead he seemed intent on avoiding any serious topics, and to steer the conversation towards the trifling.
She did not participate in the light banter between him and Amelia. And when he let the two ladies down at her townhouse a half-hour later, she parted with him with the barest civility.
Amelia maintained a steady stream of cheerful chatter until after the tea was served and they were alone in the parlour.
The next moment the illusion of high spirits disappeared as a teardrop rolled down the girl’s cheek. As Julia shot her a searching look, she noticed that shadows marred the corners of the younger girl’s eyes, and a couple of small pimples stained her skin. All was not well in the Neville household. She chastised herself for not realizing it earlier.
‘You must tell me about it,’ she said, gently. ‘There’s clearly something wrong.’
Amelia did not dissolve into tears, as Julia expected. She held back, and Julia marvelled at how quickly she had learned the ways of Town.
‘It’s Papa,’ she said, her voice distant.
Not the marriage with the old ogre, she hoped. ‘Surely he’s not forcing you—’
‘Oh, no!’ said Amelia. ‘No, that isn’t it.’ She stopped, struggling with herself, then decided to take Julia into her confidence.
‘Do you remember I told you there was a gentleman who had caught my interest?’ Julia nodded, remembering something like that from Amelia’s last visit.
‘Well, he came to our house, to ask my father’s permission to marry me.’ She looked almost happy; Julia allowed herself to be happy for her, too.
She looked down at her hands. ‘I know we have not known each other long, but I feel a strange affinity with him. As if I had always known him.’
She nodded encouragement.
‘It may have been hasty on his part, to speak to my father so soon.’ She cast Julia a quick glance, to try and gauge her reaction.
‘But at least it shows that his intentions are honourable,’ said Julia.
‘That’s what I thought. But Papa didn’t.’
Here her lips began to tremble. She pressed them close together to control them. Then she gave a little sob and buried her face in her hands. Julia waited until she had recovered enough to continue. ‘It was terrible! I listened at the keyhole, you see. I know it wasn’t the right thing to do,’ she said, ‘but I was so excited and I wanted to know everything.’ She paused and shook her head. ‘As it turned out, it was a good thing I did listen, because otherwise I wouldn’t have known what happened.’
She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose, although she was not really crying.
‘Papa was very angry. He told him he would not consider him as a son-in-law for one instant. That he was in the River Tick and would soon be in a debtor’s prison. That he had heard other unsavoury gossip about him.’ Amelia’s voice trembled. Julia patted her awkwardly on the hand. ‘Papa was so cruel, Julia. I did not think it of him.’
‘Did you consider,’ said Julia gently, ‘that perhaps your young man could be a fortune hunter?’
‘He’s not really a young man,’ said Amelia. ‘And no, I don’t think he’s a fortune hunter at all. Why will no one believe that he could actually love me for myself? Is there anything wrong with me?’
Julia looked at her perfect little profile and answered honestly. ‘Nothing’s wrong with you. On the contrary, you’re a remarkably beautiful young lady. But there are plenty of merciless fortune hunters out there who would be delighted to have both at their disposal – a beautiful young woman, and a fortune that they can dispose of as they please.’
‘Well he’s not like that. I know he loves me. The way he looks at me makes it clear.’
There was no point in pursuing that any further.
‘Besides, his father is an earl, which makes him a very good catch, considering my father is only a baron. And given all the fuss my mother has made over Lord Thorwynn, who’s an earl as well, you’d think they’d be happy to have me marry into a title.’
‘Perhaps your father’s still hoping you’ll marry Lord Frugford.’
‘Well, I won’t, and I told him so. I said I would not marry him even if they carried me to him by force, which I didn’t think they would, because it would look rather odd, wouldn’t it?’
There were many ways to force a young girl to consent. Julia said nothing
.
‘Anyway, then my father came and jerked the door open and I had to hide quickly under the stairway. I heard footsteps and before I knew it Lord Neave was gone.’
The name startled her into instant awareness.
‘Lord Neave?’ said Julia, incredulously.
‘Oh, I didn’t intend to tell you, but now that you know I suppose it does not matter.’
‘But Amelia! You don’t mean Lord Neave is your suitor?’
She stared at Julia as if she had two heads. ‘Of course. And I don’t see why you’re looking so shocked. I told you before that I thought him attractive.’
Julia shrugged. There was little anyone could say to convince Amelia that Lord Neave was far from desirable. She had scarcely listened herself when she had been warned about him. And she was not just turned seventeen, entering Society for the first time.
‘I know it will do no good to say so,’ she said, ‘but I should warn you that Lord Neave is not what he appears.’ She was condemned to repeat Lionel’s words, with as little effect.
She stood up impatiently. ‘Oh, don’t tell me now you’re siding with Papa! I thought better of you. I thought you are my friend.’
‘I am your friend,’ said Julia. The last thing she wanted to happen was for Amelia to feel abandoned by everyone. She would then fly into his arms, and the situation would be a great deal worse. ‘Don’t be too hasty, that’s all,’ she said. ‘Give yourself time to get to know him.’
Amelia cheered up. ‘Yes. That’s what I’ll do. And I’ll prove to my father and to all of you that he is a good person and worthy of me.’
She nodded. If she knew him long enough, she would know what he was capable of. ‘I applaud your resolve,’ she said, hoping she did not sound false. ‘And I hope you’ll continue to confide in me.’
Amelia nodded. ‘I will,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m so glad I fell off the horse at your feet, otherwise I would have never had you as a friend.’
They embraced quickly, and Amelia took her leave, a mix of determination and hope on her face.
An Improper Suitor Page 17
