The American Earl

by Joan Wolf

  After they had gone around the room a few times, Aunt Barbara stopped playing. “That was very nice,” she said approvingly, looking at her daughter, who danced as if she was floating.

  “Much more fun dancing with Lizzie than with Mr. Martelli,” Evan said humorously.

  Lizzie curtseyed. “Thank you, Cousin.”

  Aunt Barbara said, “You go next, Julia.”

  All of my amusement fled and suddenly I was nervous. This is ridiculous, I told myself as I moved slowly onto the floor to join Evan. Nobody cares if you make a mistake. There is absolutely no reason to be nervous.

  I lifted my chin and tried to look confident as I came to a stop in front of Evan. He took my hand into his and then his other hand came to rest intimately on my waist. I reached up high to place my hand on his shoulder. Lizzie’s height had suited him better, I thought. I was too short.

  The music started and we began to waltz.

  We were so close that I could smell his skin and feel the warmth from his body. The closeness of Mr. Martelli had been impersonal. Evan’s closeness felt completely different. Truth be told, it was making me feel a little dizzy. Or maybe it was the constant circling.

  His hand was so big that it encircled almost half my waist.

  We were mismatched in height, but still we were somehow managing to move together as if we were one person, not two. It was so easy to go with him. It was as if I felt him in every fiber of my being.

  The music stopped. We stood still for a moment, still in the embrace called for by the dance. I glanced up quickly at his face. He was looking down at me and his face was oddly grave.

  “Very nice,” Aunt Barbara said.

  We dropped our hands and stepped away from each other as if she had reprimanded us.

  Evan said, in a hearty voice that sounded a little forced, “Would you like to try it Maria? Do you dare to trust your toes to my ineptitude?”

  Maria came toward us, her face bright. “I think you’re a wonderful dancer, Evan. You and Julia looked as if you had been dancing together forever.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” I said. My voice sounded a little huskier than usual and I cleared my throat.

  “Splendid, splendid, splendid,” said Mr. Martelli as Evan and Maria sailed around the floor. “Never have I had such excellent pupils.”

  “We have done very well,” Lizzie said with satisfaction. “I don’t think that any of us will disgrace ourselves if we attempt the waltz in public.”

  Aunt Barbara rose from the piano and came to join us. Evan had said something to Maria as they came off the floor and she was laughing up at him.

  Aunt Barbara bestowed an approving smile on her daughter, her nieces and her nephew. “A successful morning,” she pronounced. “Thank you, Mr. Martelli.”

  “Yes, thank you very much,” Lizzie seconded. “It was great fun.”

  Evan and I were silent.

  Aunt Barbara rang the bell. “I will have Grantly see you out,” she said to the dancing master.

  After the door had closed behind them, Aunt Barbara said, “Now we must call upon Lady Sefton, and procure vouchers for Almack’s. That is where you should make your first appearance. We will have to wait until Julia’s clothing is delivered, however. She cannot go anywhere with her present wardrobe.”

  I brought up the subject that I considered the most important part of my London visit. “The first thing we have to do is buy a horse.” I forced myself to look at Evan. “You did say you would.”

  “I did,” he returned equably.

  “I want to help pick it out,” I said.

  “Impossible,” said Aunt Barbara. “I have already told you, Julia, that ladies cannot go to Tattersall’s. You will just have to tell Evan what you want and let him buy something for you.”

  “I have picked out all my own horses since I outgrew my first pony,” I said fiercely. “And Evan knows about boats, not horses.”

  Aunt Barbara said in measured tones, “You Cannot Go To Tattersall’s.” She looked at Evan. “I hope you understand that, Nephew, even if Julia does not.”

  “I understand, Aunt,” Evan said.

  I started to reply but, infinitesimally, he shook his head. I stopped.

  Lizzie said, “It’s a nice day, Julia. Do you and Maria want to go for a walk in the park?”

  Maria responded eagerly and after a moment I agreed. I desperately needed some fresh air. And I had to figure out a way to make Evan take me to Tattersalls. Perhaps Maria and Lizzie would have some ideas.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was a beautiful early spring day and I was delighted to be getting out of the house. I had hoped Evan would accompany us, but he had an appointment in the city. So it was just Lizzie, Maria and me strolling along the walking paths and admiring the burgeoning green of trees and grass.

  “I miss having a dog,” I said.

  What I really meant was that I missed the country. Spring was so beautiful at Stoverton, with its rich green carpets of grass, its explosion of brilliant flowers, its clouds of exuberant birds. I wouldn’t dream of subjecting a dog to life in the city; it would be like a prison for him.

  I walked along the path with my sister and my cousin, admiring a bright display of daffodils and inhaling the smell of grass and dirt. The path ran along Rotten Row for a mile or so, and I watched the horses trotting up and down. None of the ton were out at this hour, it was all middle class cits, dressed in proper riding clothes but with truly terrible seats. It was obvious that none of them had grown up with horses.

  Lizzie and Maria had been chatting and when a brief silence fell between them I said, “I should have brought Isabella to London. I miss riding terribly and God knows what kind of nag Evan will pick out.” The injustice of it all burned in my chest. “I can’t see why I’m not allowed to choose my own horse. It’s just stupid that girls can’t go to Tattersall’s.”

  Maria said, “You could always send for Isabella, Julia. I’m sure Evan wouldn’t mind. It would save him money, after all.”

  This was true. And I loved Isabella. But I had to admit that I had been looking forward to the challenge of a new horse - a horse that I picked out.

  “I suppose I could do that,” I muttered in response to Maria’s suggestion.

  “Could you buy a horse someplace other than Tattersall’s?” Lizzie inquired. “Perhaps from a private seller?”

  “I don’t know any private sellers in London,” I returned gloomily. “And I need a horse right now. I can’t wait for months, looking around here and there. Besides, I want to see Tattersall’s. It is the place to go to buy any kind of horse. They auction off carriage horses, hacks, and hunters as well as racehorses … Sir John told me all about it. It’s where he purchased Roderick, his best hunter. I want to go.”

  Maria and Lizzie exchanged glances.

  Lizzie said, “If you go to Tattersall’s, Julia, my mother will have a seizure. It really is one of those rigid rules that a girl disregards at her peril. And your behavior reflects on my mother, too, don’t forget.”

  What Lizzie didn’t say was that it would reflect upon her as well. If I went to Tattersall’s with Evan I would dish her season as well as mine.

  It’s so stupid, I thought in frustration.

  We walked in silence for a while and I tried to get back into the mood of enjoying the spring. I wasn’t having much success, though, when I heard Lizzie say, “If you were a boy, you could go.”

  I stopped, turned, and stared at my cousin. She stopped as well and looked back at me. “Lizzie,” I breathed reverently, “you are a genius.”

  We were staring at each other in mutual satisfaction when Maria asked, “Why is Lizzie a genius? We all know that you could go to Tattersall’s if you were a boy.”

  “To go to Tattersall’s all I have to do is dress as a boy,” I said with a triumphant smile.

  “You wouldn’t!” Maria cried.

  “Why not?”

  “Evan will never take you!”

&nbs
p; “There is that,” Lizzie said. “If you want to pick out your own horse, you have to go with Evan. He’s the one who has to pay. And he has to do the talking too. If you open your mouth everyone will know you’re a girl.”

  Maria said indignantly, “Lizzie, you’re as bad as Julia.”

  “Not quite as bad,” Lizzie returned. “I wouldn’t do it myself. Well, I don’t want to go to Tattersall’s. But it’s the only way Julia is going to get there.”

  “You’re right,” I said.

  “My father and brothers would never allow you to do such a thing,” Lizzie said, “but Evan is an American. Perhaps he won’t realize quite what an … outrageous … thing the ton would consider such a masquerade.”

  My brain was teeming with ideas. “I could disguise myself as a groom, one of those little ones who ride behind their masters in sporting vehicles. No one would think it odd for me to accompany Evan if I was dressed like that.”

  “Yes, but people would think it odd that you weren’t holding his horses,” Lizzie pointed out.

  I scowled and kicked a small rock on the path in front of me. This had to work. It was such a brilliant idea. I kicked another rock and an idea dawned. “He would need a groom to hold the horse he buys, wouldn’t he?”

  Lizzie frowned thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose he would.”

  “Won’t there be grooms working for Tattersall’s who do that?” Maria asked.

  “Evan won’t know that,” I said. I almost clapped my hands with glee. “He doesn’t know a thing about Tattersall’s. I’ll tell him that he’ll be expected to come accompanied by a groom, and that the groom will be me. He’ll think it’s all very natural.”

  Maria objected. “I don’t think you’re being fair to Evan. He’s been so nice to us, Julia. Suppose you get found out and he gets blamed? That would be a rotten way to repay him for all he’s doing for us.”

  “But don’t you see? That’s what’s so perfect about this,” I said. “Evan doesn’t give the snap of his fingers for the opinion of the English ton. All he wants to do is negotiate a mortgage on Stoverton, pay off our father’s debts, and sail home to America. No one in America will know what he’s done. Nor will anyone care!”

  “I don’t know,” Maria said unhappily. “You always make the most outrageous things you do sound reasonable. But this isn’t reasonable, Julia. It’s … oh, I don’t know what to call it.”

  “It’s a masquerade,” Lizzie said. “The ton holds masquerades all the time. This one is just a little more adventurous, that’s all.”

  I grinned. “You are as bad as I am, Lizzie.”

  Lizzie’s light blue eyes glimmered. “You’re so much fun, Julia. I’m glad we’re having this season together.”

  “You’re fun too,” I returned. And I meant it. I had always thought that Lizzie would be just like her mother. I pictured Aunt Barbara’s face if she knew what Lizzie was recommending and grinned.

  “Where will you get the clothes?” she asked practically.

  This was a good question. The stables at Althorpe house held Aunt Barbara’s four carriage horses, my father’s four, and Baron. Aunt Barbara had a groom to look after hers and I had Toby’s nephew Sammy looking after mine. Sammy was small. Like me.

  “Do you have any money?” I asked Lizzie.

  “I still have some of my pin money left.”

  “If you let me have it, I’ll give it to Sammy if he lends me his extra set of clothes for the day. He’ll do it. He’s Toby’s nephew, after all.”

  “You have to look the part,” Lizzie warned. “You can’t get caught, Julia. That would be disastrous.”

  “I won’t get caught,” I said. “I promise.”

  “What if Evan doesn’t agree?” Maria asked.

  “I’ll make him agree.”

  Maria rolled her eyes but didn’t answer. She knew it was futile to try to change my mind.

  * * * *

  The first thing I did when we got home was pay a visit to the stable and have a chat with Sammy, who was happy to loan me his extra clothes in exchange for the remains of Lizzie’s pin money. Within a short time I was possessed of a package containing a shirt, breeches, boots, jacket and hat. I raced back to my room to try them on.

  The clothes were new, having been bought when Sammy was hired to come with us to London, so I didn’t have any unpleasant dirt or smell to deal with. I put the tan breeches on first and they fit fairly well. My legs are longer than you would think in relation to my height. The jacket sleeves were too long, but I tucked them under. The hat had a peak, which was good because I could pull it low to hide my face. It was also full enough to allow me to stuff my hair under it. The boots, however, were too big.

  How could someone as small as Sammy have such big feet? I grumbled as I tried to walk around the room in the cumbersome footwear. Perhaps if I stuff some paper into the toes it will stabilize them.

  I tried this idea and, while far from perfect, I decided it would have to do. My own boots would look too small for a boy.

  I was still in my costume when I heard a knock on my door. “Who is it?” I called cautiously.

  “It’s us, Lizzie and Maria,” Lizzie called back. “We’re alone.”

  “Come in,” I said. “Quickly.”

  The girls scuttled into the room, shutting the door behind them. The two of them stopped dead and stared at me as I posed in front of the fireplace.

  Lizzie began to laugh. “You look perfect,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I replied modestly.

  Maria almost wailed, “I wish you wouldn’t do this, Julia.”

  I went to her and put an arm around her. “Maria, darling, nothing bad is going to happen. You shouldn’t be so afraid all the time. Sometimes you have to take chances if you want to be happy.”

  “If you want to have your own way, you mean,” Maria retorted.

  I grinned and began to walk around the room. “These breeches are wonderful. One feels so free, so unfettered.” I strode back and forth across the floor a few times, trying to get the knack of walking in the big boots. “It’s so unfair that girls have to wear dresses.”

  “I like my dresses,” Lizzie said. “They’re much looser and more comfortable than those horrible high neck cloths that men have to wear. I hate the feeling of something close around my neck. I always feel as if it’s choking me.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” I replied as I continued to pace the floor.

  Maria said, “When are you going to ask Evan? If he doesn’t agree, you’re dished, Julia.”

  “I’ll ask him as soon as he gets home. Grantly said he was going into the city to meet with some solicitor.”

  “We should go downstairs to wait for him,” Lizzie advised.

  “All right,” I returned. “Go ahead and I’ll meet you in the drawing room after I’ve changed.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Evan’s appointment in the city was with Mr. Rothschild, the solicitor Roger Spenser had recommended. They had a long and fruitful discussion, and, when Evan left Simon Rothschild’s office, he felt there was a real chance he would be able to sell the art in the London house. If he could sell those valuable paintings, he’d realize enough money to considerably lower the debts his uncle had left.

  If he got Julia settled, he could be on a ship for America by June.

  He had written a long letter to his sister Frances explaining his dilemma and apologizing for his delay in returning home. Not that she needed him to run the business; she and John had been doing that well enough for years. Evan had done his part by investing a great deal of his own money in the company, but he felt guilty about his protracted absence.

  He was thinking nostalgically about how delightfully simple life was in America when he walked into his palatial London establishment. A footman was there to take his hat. The fellow probably did nothing more all day than stand in the hall waiting to take people’s hats. What kind of useless job was that for a man? People could perfectly well place their
own hats on the table.

  It’s ridiculous, he thought grumpily as he started toward the library.

  Suddenly Lizzie appeared at the door of the main drawing room. “Evan, might I see you for a moment please?” she said. As he started toward her she disappeared back inside. When he reached the door he almost bumped into Lizzie and Maria, who were on their way out. Lizzie favored him with a bright smile while Maria gave him a strange, anxious look, muttered a greeting, and whisked past him.

  He looked toward the fireplace and saw Julia standing there. He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” she replied. She gestured to one of the elegant gilt chairs that lined the wall. “Sit down. I have something to ask you.”

  His grumpiness was displaced by curiosity. He took the seat she had designated and waited to be told.

  She came to sit on the chair next to him, turning so she faced him. She was wearing one of her old dresses as the new ones had not yet been delivered, and her hands were tightly clasped in her faded muslin lap. For the first time since he had known her, she looked uncertain.

  He said encouragingly, “Yes?”

  She lifted her chin and her expression became resolute. “You know how much I want to go to Tattersall’s with you to pick out my horse.”

  He sighed. “Yes, Julia, I know. But I think we have to respect the superior knowledge of Aunt Barbara in this matter. It would cause a scandal if you went to Tattersall’s.” He added, speaking slowly and clearly, “I do not wish to cause a scandal and wreck Lizzie’s season.”

  She leaned a little toward him, her gray eyes fixed on his face. “It would cause a scandal if I went to Tattersall’s dressed as a girl. But what if everyone thought I was a boy?”

  It took him a moment to digest what she had just said. She kept gazing at him, steely determination in her extraordinary eyes.

  “Are you proposing to dress up as a boy?” he asked cautiously.