The Dowager's Daughter

by Mona Prevel

  John could not believe his good fortune. What could be more blissful than to drive his curricle under the sun-dappled trees of the Camberly Hall approach with Althea Markham by his side?

  He was acutely aware of a thrill of excitement passing between them. She smiled at him. His throat convulsed and his heart began to pound. He found he could scarcely breathe, much less hold a conversation.

  As they approached the outskirts of Camberly, he leaned toward her, intending to break the silence with an inane remark regarding the weather, at the same time she did.

  He was so enthralled by the elfin quality of her pale green eyes, he quite forgot what he was going to say.

  Althea was the first to look away, seemingly interested in her gloved hands which were demurely folded in her lap. He saw her face and throat slowly diffuse into a rosy glow.

  She feels as I do. Oh, Lord, I hope this does not turn out to be one of those elaborate mating dances. I cannot endure much more of this.

  They drove past the pier and Althea thought fondly of their first meeting. The man she knew as John Soames had been able to look beyond her dowdy appearance and consider her beautiful. She had spurned George Delville’s offer of marriage for the opposite reason.

  Could it be that John Ridley is in love with me? I pray so. I cannot endure the thought of it being otherwise.

  She chided herself for allowing her unfortunate experience with Nigel Fortescue to give her cause to doubt John’s sincerity. After all, did not Mama vouchsafe his character?

  Keeping this in mind, she set aside her worries and scanned the esplanade to see if anyone she knew was taking the air, but to no avail. It seemed that Camberly attracted more strangers all the time. Then in the distance she saw two men who seemed familiar to her come out of The Boar’s Head and walk in their direction. One was tall and thin, his companion shorter and rather stout.

  When they drew nearer, she recognized them and tugged on John’s sleeve. “Those two men.”

  “Which ones? There are quite a few gendtlemen squiring their ladies along the esplanade.”

  “I doubt you would call them gendtlemen. Look. They are about to walk past Hansford’s”

  “Hmm. I see what you mean. How on earth did you come to know such a seedy-looking pair?”

  “They came to the Hall to visit my uncle.”

  “Did they indeed? I do not mean to be rude, but one cannot help wonder what dealings he could possibly have with such as they. French, I take it?”

  Althea nodded. “Monsieur Joubert is the taller one. His friend’s name eludes me for the moment.” She leaned forward. “Why, they just entered Hansford’s”

  “You find that odd?”

  “Every bit as much as my uncle’s gracious condescension toward them.”

  John shrugged. “They could be buying dress stuffs for their wives. People from all over patronize the place. But of course I do not have to tell you that.”

  “On a Sunday? It is rumored that Mr. Hansford has smugglers to thank for the variety of his goods. Perhaps that is the answer. It would certainly explain where my uncle gets his cognac.” She looked at him and smiled. “For a while, I thought he was getting it from you.”

  His eyes widened. “Did you, now? I am afraid you are wrong about that Mind you, I would not be at all surprised if they turned out to be smugglers, but they are not likely to ply their nefarious trade in broad daylight, are they?” He shook his head. “No. I would have to say that they must have another reason for calling on our friend Hansford.”

  “Then you agree that they could be smugglers?”

  “Absolutely. They could be anything. Anything except exiled emigres, that is. Nothing in their bearing suggests to me that they might be aristocrats.”

  His words gave Althea a sense of unease. When John reined the horses at the teashop, the pastries it was noted for had lost their appeal for Althea, so she begged off the treat He claimed not to mind.

  “In any case,” he said, “it looks deucedly crowded in there.”

  They came to the pier once more, and John asked her if she would care to take a stroll. “Rekindle the memory of our first meeting?”

  In view of the people already crowding the pier, Althea was tempted to refuse him. From the start, his anxiety had hovered over them like a thick fog. She decided that a little lighthearted teasing might clear the air.

  She put her index finger to her cheek and pretended to consider the matter. “You wish to rekindle the memory of our first trip? That poses a problem.”

  “How?”

  “With whom shall I take this memorable walk? The respectable Mr. Ridley or the outrageous Mr. Soames?”

  “Mr. Ridley?”

  Althea gave him what she hoped was a saucy smile. “Pity. You see, it will not be the same without Mr. Soames.”

  By this time they were on the pier and John did not pick up the gauntlet she had tossed him until they had walked several yards.

  “So Mr. Soames’s company is preferable to mine? That is most distressing.”

  “Oh, I find you quite amiable, Mr. Ridley, but he is the one whom I met here.”

  John sighed. “Soames lays claim to the pier and the riverbank so I must needs create my own memories with you—but what is left?”

  She pretended to ponder the question. “It is hard to say. The tail of the north wind? Or the rainbow’s end, perhaps?”

  He cast her a sly look. “Or, I could steal Soames’s boat—which is not really his, incidentally—poor chap has not a farthing to his name—and we can claim the seven seas for our very own.”

  Althea gave his arm a tap. “Fie, Mr. Ridley. And to think that I took Mr. Soames for the greater rascal.”

  “So you think that I am a rascal?”

  “Without a doubt”

  He inclined his head and whispered in her ear. “I am very happy to hear it.”

  “And why would that be?”

  “Because, my dear Lady Camberly, I have a strong suspicion that you have a soft place in your heart for rascals.”

  Althea pretended to be shocked. “You, sir, are beyond redemption.”

  As she anticipated, her rebuke was countered with a wicked grin. The tension had been replaced with jollity. The rest of the afternoon could prove to be pleasant.

  Being more relaxed allowed them to enjoy their surroundings. John pointed out the amusing antics of the seagulls as they wheeled overhead, waiting to scavenge what they could from the nearby fishing boats.

  Althea laughed out loud when one rapacious bird stole a scrap of offal from the beak of another while they were both in full flight.

  Only then did she realize that they had become the objects of the questioning stares of ill-mannered bystanders. The final indignity was delivered when the gossipmongers huddled closer together to add their own opinions anent the scandal concerning the local countess which was obviously brewing under their noses.

  As far as Althea was concerned, the pier had lost its appeal. As the person around whom everyone and everything in Camberly revolved, she regretted having exposed herself to the idle speculations of those who had nothing better to do with their time.

  She looked imploringly at John. “If you please, I should like to go home now. I hate being stared at”

  John looked wry. “So I notice. But surely you are used to that? It happens to our family quite frequently. It is best to ignore them.”

  “I know you are right but lately I have been forced to endure far too much of that sort of thing.”

  He was instantly contrite. “Forgive my thoughtlessness—we shall leave immediately.”

  Chapter 15

  John called on Althea the following morning to inquire after her health. The incident with the gossips on the pier had been a revelation to him. It was clear that years of humiliation at the hands of opportunists had taken their toll.

  As he waited for the door to be opened, he clenched his fists in outrag
e, wishing he could beat senseless every knave who had caused his beloved even a moment’s anguish.

  Jarvis invited him in, but shook his head upon hearing that he wished to see the mistress of Camberly.

  “I regret to inform you, sir, that her ladyship is not receiving visitors today.”

  “Then her headache is no better?”

  Jarvis fixed his eyes somewhat to the left of John’s head. “I cannot say, sir. I was not informed.”

  John thanked him and turned to leave, his thoughts in turmoil.

  She is slipping away from me. The poor girl is afraid to entrust her heart to any man.

  He was about to exit the door Jarvis held open for him when a feminine voice, which he recognized as Celeste Markham’s melodious contralto, called out to him.

  “If you are looking for Althea, try the lily pond. That is where she can usually be found at this hour.”

  “Not this time, Lady Camberly. Jarvis just told me she is not at home to anyone right now. I rather suspect that she has yet to recover from the headache she incurred yesterday.”

  Celeste looked thoughtful. “Do you think so? I suppose that would account for her not coming down to breakfast this morning. In any case, I am hurt that you did not see fit to pay me a little visit”

  He bowed to her. “My abject apologies, Lady Camberly.”

  “Unless you stop that Lady Camberly nonsense this instant, your apologies will go unheeded.”

  She linked her arm through his. “Come now, let me walk you to your carriage. I have been told by one of the grooms that you have the handsomest of curricles. Your horses I have seen many a time, of course. You have no idea how much I envied your late uncle his magnificent grays, and now you, of course.”

  They had reached the carriage and she patted the flank of the horse closest to her. “There is no help for it. From this day forth you are the recipient of my never-ending envy.”

  John suspected that Althea’s mother was striving a little too hard to be amiable.

  He forced a smile. “It is whispered in some circles that the dowager of Camberly Hall handles the racing ribbons as well as any man.”

  She laughed outright. “That must be one of the mildest things that is said of me in most circles.”

  “Most of it undeserved. One day, I hope to tell all of those gossips how they have maligned you.”

  She looked horrified. “Pray reconsider. I should hate everyone to find out how dull my life really is.”

  He saw how wistful she looked and realized there was a kernel of truth behind the banter. Celeste Markham had probably missed a lot of life’s sweeter moments.

  “I presume you will attend the Prince Regent’s grand midsummer fete on the nineteenth?”

  “I expect so. I have heard it will be a dreadful crush.”

  “You have heard aright. Marcus says it will be on a scale unheard-of since the days of the Caesars.”

  “In that case, how can one refuse? It will most likely be talked about for generations to come.”

  “And while we are in Town, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see you handle the ribbons to my curricle.”

  Her face lit up. “That is excessively kind of you. I think I should enjoy that far more than Prinny’s gaudy affair.”

  As soon as John departed, the smile left her face and she went inside with the determination of one bent on a mission.

  Althea, who was in her sewing room diligently embroidering yet a third rose on her square of cambric, had heard everything. When her mother reentered the house, Althea detected anger in the sound of her footsteps.

  They stopped directly at her door, and her mother walked in without even bothering to knock, the curve of her generously proportioned mouth pressed into a straight line. Althea decided to meet her head-on.

  “Thank you for telling John that I was not at breakfast.”

  Celeste did not respond right away, and when she pulled up a flimsy little chair and sat down next to her, as closely as possible, Althea knew she was in for a difficult time.

  “The falsehood was for his benefit, not yours. I take it that on closer acquaintance you have decided that Mr. Ridley does not measure up to your high standards?”

  Althea lowered her eyes. “Something of the sort.”

  “Daughter, I did not take you for a coward. How could you hide behind the coattails of your butler in such a craven fashion?” Celeste’s tone expressed profound disappointment “Tell me, do you intend to apprise him of your disinterest in his courtship, or will you continue to keep him knocking at your door until he decides that for himself?”

  “Of course I shall speak to him. What do you take me for? But not today. I have to choose my words carefully so as to do the least amount of harm.”

  Celeste stroked Althea’s cheek. “La, child. I am thinking that however kindly your rejection is worded, it will not lessen the hurt. I happen to think that John is terribly in love with you.”

  Althea jerked her head away. “You cannot know that. My experiences make it hard for me to trust any man. When all those dreadful people on the pier started to talk about me, every hurt and humiliation I ever suffered at the hands of rich mushrooms and impoverished lords rushed back to hurt me anew.”

  “And you are punishing a fine young man who truly loves you because of these creatures?”

  “You cannot possibly know how he feels about me. I want to believe him but I am afraid. I love him so much that if he proved untrue, I swear to you, Mama, I would shrivel up and die.”

  Celeste took Althea’s hand and held it to her own cheek. “Neither life nor love comes with guarantees. Be careful, my darling, lest you throw away the latter, for it will color everything else that you do in this life.”

  Althea’s entourage arrived at the house in Mayfair on the sixteenth of June in plenty of time to prepare for the Prince Regent’s grand midsummer fete. Rumor had it that two thousand people would attend.

  Althea was not enthusiastic about going, even though they were to be among those invited to sit at the prince’s table in the Gothic conservatory. Since sending John away, her life had dragged by, one gray day after another.

  His absence left her feeling a terrible sense of loss. She found that tears came easily and were difficult to hide from both family and servants.

  During one such teary episode her mother came upon her in the library.

  “There, there, my little cabbage, tell Mama what is troubling you,” she crooned.

  Althea turned aside. “It is nothing. I just wish that we had not received the invitation to the Regent’s tiresome affair, that is all. You know how much I despise being in the City.”

  “Poor darling. Nothing you do these days seems to be worth the effort, does it?”

  “Exactly. Mama, does it not also strike you that way?”

  “No, it does not”

  Althea wrung her hands together. “Then what is the matter with me? Life seems so—”

  “Pointless?”

  “I was going to say gray, but pointless will serve. Am I ill, do you suppose?”

  “Ah. Did I not warn you that if you deny love, nothing else in life much matters? Go to John and tell him that you love him.”

  “I would not know where to find him. He left Camberly the very same day I sent him away. He did not tell his household staff where he was going or when he was coming back.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Jarvis, of course.”

  Celeste was triumphant “I have it on good authority that John will be attending this evening’s festivities.”

  “Jarvis, again?”

  “But of course. Servants know about our comings and goings almost before we do. Perhaps you will be able to put things right with John tonight”

  Althea was torn. “I am not sure. Suppose I marry him and then find out that he does not love me? I would be absolutely devastated.”

  “And at this moment
you are dancing for joy?”

  “Do not tease, Mama.”

  “Let me put it another way. Suppose you marry him and discover that you are the moon and stars to him? Is it not worth the chance to trade a misery you know you are suffering for the possibility of achieving a lifetime of bliss?”

  Mama makes a lot of sense. But then, she has a gift forgetting to the heart of things. She faces life with courage and fortitude, and as her daughter, I should do no less.

  “Are you suggesting that I accost him this evening?”

  “Not exactly. I have arranged through Marcus for John to come to you. Now, all that is needed is for you to agree.”

  Althea gave her a heartfelt hug. “Thank you, Mama—that would be much better.”

  The rest of the morning, Althea’s voice was heard all over the house, singing songs about country maidens and their lovers.

  Promptly at nine that evening, Althea and her mother and uncle joined other notables in a large reception room to await the arrival of their host. Marcus Ridley took his place beside Althea.

  All the ladies were dazzlingly arrayed in their finest evening dresses. Althea looked beautiful in the green-and-lavender shot silk. It was fashioned in a grand manner, complete with a train and a heart-shaped bodice embroidered with tiny opals.

  Celeste’s dress was a flattering shade of peach, overlaid with a copper-colored mesh. It was the perfect foil for her fiery hair. Marcus complimented both ladies on their choices.

  The gendtlemen were elegantly attired in full court dress. Marcus wore a coat of rich dark blue teamed with black breeches and hose. Althea deemed his black leather slippers to be particularly elegant.

  The prince was to be joined by exiled members of the French royal family; the room had been hung in blue silk wall hangings with fleur-de-lis richly embroidered with gold thread.

  Althea overheard one querulous gentleman say, “As if our battling prince has not spent enough on this affair.”

  Althea was shocked. “I wonder how one gentleman can disparage another while partaking of his hospitality?” she whispered to Marcus.