The Scandalous Saga of the White Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hanna Hamilton

  “Do you like my peach-colored gloves?” Dorothy asked, as she laid them across her new dress. “You do not think there is too much yellow in them to go with the rose color in the dress?”

  “They are lovely together, my dear. But I hope you did not go overboard with your expenditures?” Anna said, as she flopped down in her most comfortable chair awaiting the arrival of their tea.

  “I was prudent,” Dorothy insisted. “But you bought hardly anything. What happed to that lovely blue dress you were ogling?”

  Anna sighed. “It was quite pretty, but I did not think I would have occasion to wear it soon again, so I decided against it.”

  “Oh, Sister, you hardly ever pamper yourself. You are far too severe.”

  “It is not that. But I may be too practical at times. I do not like waste or frivolity.”

  “Like I do, I suppose?” Dorothy said with a slight pout.

  “Not at all, dear. You are always just your true exuberant self and it is charming.”

  Warrick came in with the tea tray, set it on the table and poured the first cups for them. The sisters went to the table and sat.

  “Thank you, we will be fine now,” Anna said to the butler.

  “Ladies,” he said and left.

  Dorothy leaned over the plate of tea cakes, picked one up, bit into it, but did not like it, and put it back on the plate. Then she did it a second time with another cake.

  “Dorothy, what are you doing? That is disgusting. I hope you will be better behaved at the dance dinner.”

  “But they are stale,” she complained.

  “That may be, but do not put them back on the serving plate. You know better than that.”

  “But it is just us. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Nevertheless…”

  Dorothy found a cake she liked and sat back in her chair and gazed at her sister with a smile.

  “Tell me about your Mr. Christopher Stewart.”

  “He is not my Mr. Stewart. He is a pleasant gentleman, and for some unknown reason, he seems to have taken a fancy to me and…”

  “And what?” Dorothy pried.

  “He wants us to dance on the evening and he might have suggested a correspondence when he returns home.”

  Dorothy leaned forward with a salacious grin. “He wants to write you? Already? He hardly knows you.”

  “Exactly. It is a ridiculous notion.”

  “I think he is dreamy,” Dorothy said. She sat back in her chair again and extended her arms out to her side as though to embrace the whole world.

  “He is pleasant,” was all Anna would admit to.

  “He said he wants to dance with me as well.”

  “Then I expect he shall.”

  “But I will not if he is to be your beau,” Dorothy said pouring another cup of tea.

  “Really, Dorothy, he is not my beau. You really are too romantic sometimes. And I cannot even imagine that anything will come of it. He lives in Dorset and that might as well be China for all the good it will do anyone who lives in Wiltshire. I am quite certain that, once he returns home, we shall never hear from him again.”

  “Does he have a handsome brother that looks like him?”

  “He has a younger brother, but I have no idea what he looks like. He may be ten-years-old for all I know.”

  “I shall find out. Would that not be splendid if you and I married a pair of brothers? We would be sisters and sisters-in-law at the same time. I think that would be both delicious and hilarious.”

  Harry and Christopher were out riding through the estate’s herd. Harry was showing off his prize animals to his friend. They came upon one of the newly-born calves that looked sickly. Harry pulled up his horse and dismounted.

  “Looks like we have a problem here.” He went to inspect the wobbly calf and said, “I think the mother is refusing to nurse him. I’ll take him back to the barn and have him handfed there.”

  Christopher dismounted, and after Harry remounted, he handed the calf to Harry which he slung in front of him over the neck of the horse.

  They began to ride leisurely toward the barn.

  “What can you tell me about Miss Anna Hoskins?” Christopher asked.

  Harry felt a brief twinge of jealousy but said, “What do you want to know?”

  “Do you know if she is sweet on anyone in particular?”

  Harry was not about to admit his feelings for her as she had never expressed any interest in him—ever. They were close friends and had great regard for each other but no words of tenderness were ever exchanged.

  “Not that I know of. I believe my sister might have mentioned a fondness for my friend Percy, but I do not believe it amounts to anything serious. Why do you ask?”

  “I think she is a fine young lady, and she has promised to dance with me at your upcoming evening.”

  “And her sister, what do you think of her?” Harry asked.

  Christopher gave a sharp nod. “Very fine, as well. But she seems to be rather young. Is there much difference in their ages?”

  “Only a few years, I believe.”

  “She is very pretty.”

  “Many of the local gentlemen believe so and she is considered a great prize.” Harry could not help himself. He found he was trying to steer his friend’s interest away from Anna and onto her sister.

  “It might be as you say, but there is a mysterious quality to Anna that intrigues me. She may not be quite as beautiful as her sister… but there is something…”

  “There should be any number of fine ladies at the dance. You might find many that attract you.”

  “We shall see,” Christopher said as they were nearing the barn.

  “And are there no local beauties in Dorset?”

  “A few, but I grew up near most of them and know them far too well. Believe me, they are nothing to write home about,” he said with a laugh.

  “What will you do if you marry, Christopher? You live at the family home. Will you buy your own property to raise your family?”

  “I am the heir, so I think not. It is too early for my sisters to marry and my brother is but fifteen. But the house is large and there is a wing I could use for my family. And besides, there is a lot of land and it is perfect for grazing our cattle.”

  Harry could not help himself and he said before they reached the barn, “I really think you might want to give a second look at Miss Dorothy. She really is very charming and would make someone an excellent wife.”

  Christopher turned to Harry and said, “Why, Harry, I do believe you have feelings for Miss Anna yourself.”

  “And just where are you going all dressed up like that?” the Duke asked his son while he was tying his cravat in front of his bedroom mirror.

  “There is to be a dance at Creassey Manor this evening, Father,” Percy replied.

  “But that is hours away. I want you to ride into Marlborough first and find Dirk. I want to know what is happening with the deadbeat tenants.”

  “Certainly, that can wait until tomorrow. I was going over early to see Harry and Maria. It is always nice to have a drink or two with Harry before the dance gets underway.”

  “No. I want you to go now. Damn lazy, no-good. Make yourself useful to your father.”

  “But I shall end up smelling like a horse, riding all the way into town.”

  “Then change your damn clothes first. You have plenty of time. It will not hurt you to be a few moments late in any case.”

  Percy walked over to his father, took his arm, and said, “But what if I find a nice eligible young lady with a fine living attached. Would that not help matters? If I am all worn out and scruffy who will want to dance with me?”

  The Duke saw the reasoning in that and said, “Very well, then you will go to Marlborough first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “After I get up,” Percy said, turning back to his mirror. “It might be a rather late night, Father. And if I should find someone special I might need to pay a call on a young lady later in the a
fternoon.”

  “You lazy good-for-nothing! I should horse whip you and kick you out of this house. You are useless! Worthless! A disgrace to this family.” And he stormed out of Percy’s bedroom.

  Percy had heard all of this before and paid it little mind. He stood before the mirror admiring himself. He turned his head left and then right—catching his profile and checking his cravat. He was satisfied. Then he went to his dresser and applied a few splashes of his eau de cologne. Yes, he was ready to have a most pleasant evening.

  Chapter 6

  Maria had not dressed yet for the party. She knew Harry and Christopher were busy in the barn, so tea would only be for her mother and herself. It had been a daunting time preparing for the dance, as she had her regular duties to attend to each day as well. But Anna and Dorothy had been most helpful, and she was very grateful.

  Maria and her mother waited for the tea to be served, and Maria used the time to work on a knitting project. Her mother had nodded off in her wheelchair and Nurse Carter sat at the side of the room reading from her prayer book. It was a quarter until four when Daniels came into the room with a rather strange look on his face. It was too early for tea.

  “Yes, Daniels?”

  “Miss Maria, a couple has just shown up at the door.”

  “Not guests yet, certainly?”

  “No. A lady and a gentleman. I believe the lady is your Aunt Agatha.”

  This startled Maria as they had had no word from her aunt for many months.

  At that moment her aunt burst through the door behind Daniels, pushing him aside, and followed by an unknown gentleman.

  “Darlings!” she exclaimed, stepping forward into the room “Leah… Maria… and where is Harry?”

  Mother snapped awake in her chair and gazed, uncomprehending for a moment.

  “Agatha?” she queried. “You are back from Africa?”

  “Aunt…” Maria managed to say, discombobulated by this astonishing entrance.

  “Is it tea time yet? I am parched… just parched. Have not had a decent cup of tea since the British Consulate in Malabo—and even that was only barely decent.”

  Maria stood, went over to her aunt, who was in some sort of safari outfit, and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. Agatha was a tall lady with striking— but not beautiful— features. She carried herself with a great deal of self-confidence and tended to command any room she entered.

  Maria caught sight of a young man lingering in the doorway. Maria asked, “Oh, and who might this gentleman be?”

  The man stepped forward, offering his hand. “Chilton Oakley,” he said.

  “Mr. Oakley… I am Maria Buxton.”

  He took her hand very gallantly and kissed it with great ceremony. “Such a delightful pleasure.”

  Mr. Oakley was shorter than Agatha, but boyishly handsome with reddish blond slicked back hair, giving him the appearance of an otter that had just popped out of the water.

  But even though he had announced his name, Maria still had no idea who he was.

  “Chilton, my dear, will you be a sweetie and fetch me my reticule. I must have left it with the luggage.”

  “Of course, Agatha,” he said, and then promptly exited the parlor.

  “Now then, we were discussing tea. Any chance it might be coming soon?”

  “At four, dear Aunt. If you will sit yourself, it shall be here presently.”

  Agatha sat in a comfortable chair, pulled a large kerchief out of a breast pocket and waved it as though she was shooing flies—which is probably what she usually did with it.

  Maria suddenly realized guests would be arriving in a few hours and she rapidly tried to figure out what to do with her aunt… and her companion.

  Chilton returned and handed Agatha her reticule.

  “Thank you, dearest. Please seat yourself. I understand tea is imminent and we can finally put our feet up—so to speak.” She laughed, then dug into her reticule, pulled out a monocle, and turned it on her sister.

  “Dearest Leah, are you speechless? You have barely said a word. How are you dear one?”

  Leah seemed uncertain how to process this unexpected visit, but asked, “Where did you come from? We had no idea where you were. We have not had any communication from you for months on end, it seems.”

  “Oh, the tales we have to tell,” she flailed her arms as though directing carriages in the Piccadilly. “But it shall have to wait until dear Harry is here.” She looked around the room. “Where is he, anyway? Is it not proper tea time?”

  At that moment it was. Since there were so many having tea this afternoon, Daniels came in with the tea trolley and began to serve.

  “Ah! How splendid,” Agatha exclaimed “I do hope you have some delicious little treats. Our carriage ride was most disappointing. We had nothing to nibble on and it was hot and dusty.” She turned to Daniels. “I should like a hot bath presently.” She turned to her family and said, “And I hope we shall have a leisurely supper where I can regale you all with our most marvelous adventures.”

  Maria spoke up, “Aunt, I am afraid you have come at a most inconvenient time for that. We are having an evening of music, dance, and dinner. We are expecting about forty guests, so, you see, your tales must wait for another time, however delightful they might be.”

  Agatha waved her hand. “Then do not mind us. We may or may not choose to attend your charming sounding event.” She turned to her companion. “How do you feel about that, precious?”

  Chilton thought for a moment and said. “It would be rather nice to dance a few dances. It has been ages since we have been in anything like proper society.”

  “Hmm. We shall see—after my bath. I absolutely must bathe! I do believe the winds of Africa have swept every ounce of native soil into my pores, and I feel as if I must soak away the sands of time.”

  Harry and Christopher came into the parlor.

  “We could wait no longer for our tea, so we wrapped up our work and here we are.” He noticed there were others in attendance. “Oh, who have we here?” Then he realized who it was. “Aunt Agatha… what a surprise. When did you arrive?”

  She turned to her nephew. “Only just. And I am sorry if we are interrupting your entertainment this evening, but we could wait no longer to see you all.”

  “And you are most welcome.” Harry then noticed her companion. “Hello, and you are?”

  Chilton introduced himself and Harry introduced Christopher.

  Harry did not hesitate to ask his aunt, “And who, exactly, is this young gentleman, Aunt?”

  “My traveling companion. We met at the shipping company’s London booking office when I was planning my African adventure. It seemed we both had the same idea, so we decided to team up—as it were.”

  “I see.” But it appeared he still had questions about this arrangement.

  Maria stood up and said, “You must excuse me. There is still a lot I must attend to before our guests start arriving.”

  “You are most correct, dear sister. And how may I help?” Harry asked. He headed to the tea tray and poured cups for Christopher and himself.

  “Stay and have your tea, visit with Mother and Aunt, and just be ready when the guests start to arrive. I will handle all the rest.” And with that, she left the parlor.

  Only light wraps would be needed as the evening was so mild. Anna’s personal maid was finishing up with her hair when Dorothy came into Anna’s bedroom.

  “Are you ready?” Dorothy asked.

  “Just about,” Anna said from her dressing table. She glanced into the mirror and saw her sister looking very pretty. “How splendid your new dress looks on you. You were absolutely right to buy it, Dorothy.”

  “You think so?” she replied, pleased she looked so well—which she knew she did.

  Anna stood. She was wearing one of her older dresses, but it looked splendid on her. It was high-waisted with a white and light-spring green small checkered pattern. Puffed sleeves came to the elbow. Very simple, but elegant, and
it was set off with a simple emerald on a gold chain.

  “I am ready if you are,” Anna said, as she put on her elbow length white gloves.

  “I am,” Dorothy said. She gave a little leap and turned to leave Anna’s bedroom.

  They headed down the stairs to the front door. Warrick had made certain the carriage had been brought around and he stood by the door to escort them down the front steps.