by Dorothy Mack
“We have things to discuss, but I am unsure how best to broach the subject. You have rather a lot of uncomfortable pride, my dear.”
“Which you are about to demolish?” Angelica guessed with a faint, rueful smile.
There was an answering gleam in his own eyes as he motioned her to sit down and absently seated himself opposite her in a cane-seated chair. From the depths of a wing chair, Angelica had the nervous impression that he loomed over her.
“I think I can understand what a trial this next week is going to be to someone with your sensitivity and independent spirit. Some people will undoubtedly think Barbara has broken my heart and I have seized upon you as a weapon with which to strike her in retribution. Others will assume you have made a dead set at a wealthy man. The fact that you have been living in my house will not go unnoticed either. This has to be faced,” he said with a touch of impatience as he regarded her pale, set face and downcast eyes. “It will not please me at all to see you meek and deprecating and dressed like a dowdy governess so that the gossips may add pity to their other judgments of us.”
At that, her eyes did raise to his face and he was pleased to see they sparked with anger. “Would you prefer to see me dressed as a … a pet of the fancy and exhibiting the manners of a substitute female living under your protection?” She was appalled at her own words but still too angry to apologize. His amused look did nothing whatsoever to mollify her.
“Billy has a lot to answer for,” he drawled and smiled again at the blush that overspread her cheeks. Abruptly he grasped her hands and compelled her attention. “My dear, I am sorry to be so clumsy. No one looking at those honest eyes could think you other than a lady. But I believe the best way to carry this off is for you to hold your head high, and to be dressed in the first style of elegance.”
“Thus adding envy to their feelings against me,” she could not resist adding.
He ignored this thrust and continued implacably. “I insist on providing you with a suitable wardrobe, Angelica.” She looked mutinous and opened her mouth to protest, but he placed a finger against her lips. “Hear me out. I know how this suggestion offends your sensibilities and especially that independent spirit, but in a week you will be my wife and naturally there will be a settlement —”
“No!” she interrupted almost violently, jerking her head away from his hand. “Let us leave money out of this. Of course you will buy my clothes after we are married, but let us have no talk of settlements.”
“I do not intend to talk to you but to Billy when I write to him today,” he answered calmly.
“Billy? What has he to do with any of this?” She was taken aback, having had no time to consider the practical aspects of her change in status.
“As your only relative, it is to him I must apply for consent to our marriage.”
“But I am of age.”
“Oh, the application for consent is mere form, of course, but the settlement is another matter. We won’t discuss it if it distresses you. But we shall discuss the matter of your wardrobe. I will have you outshine those whose tongues will be gloating over this elopement. If you prefer, you may send the bills to Lady Orbridge, who will be most happy to supply your trousseau.”
She preferred nothing of the kind, but Angelica had no trouble assessing the stubborn line of his jaw. He meant to have his way at all costs. Obviously the cost would be to her pride, but she loved him enough to do whatever he wished to see him through this wretched situation. It was that or remove herself from his life completely, and the persistent small ray of hope that he might come to love her would not permit this.
She rose from her chair and regarded him sombrely. “It shall be as you wish, my lord. Lydia and I will begin to select clothes this very day.”
“What will you wear tonight?”
“Well, I have finished the gown I intended to wear at Lydia’s ball. As it is not too elaborate, it should do nicely for the theatre. May I go now? There is a lot to plan. A week is not overlong to arrange to have a wedding gown made.”
“I trust to your customary efficiency, my dear. Would you like me to ask Robert to accompany us tonight?”
“Oh, yes, please. Lord Robert is always so at ease in every situation. He will help dispel any awkwardness.”
“Just don’t let him hear you ‘my lording’ me,” he said dryly.
“Of course not, my Giles,” she amended hastily.
“I am, you know.”
Angelica did not know what to make of this enigmatic reply so elected to leave the room on a fleeting smile.
Lydia knocked on Angelica’s door before lunch, eager to relate her experience with her morning callers. Angelica felt an equal reluctance to learn what had transpired, but Lydia was not to be contained.
“And, Angel, when she said in that honeyed voice she affects how deeply she sympathized with Giles, I longed to call her a liar to her face, but I took a deep breath and told her with equally spurious sweetness that we could not accept her sympathy under false pretences because we were so relieved that now Giles was free to marry the woman he loved. Angel, you should have seen her face. She was absolutely put out of countenance, and that insipid daughter of hers sat gaping like a fish with its mouth open.”
“I suppose it is too much to hope that she went away without asking the identity of this paragon?”
“Naturally, and I was only too happy to convey the information to her. Without doing it up too brown, I managed to imply love at first sight and noble renunciation until Barbara’s elopement made your marriage possible.”
Angelica squirmed inwardly. “Lydia, please, I beg of you, do not tell your brother precisely what was said during this interview. Men do not care for gossip.”
“Oh, but I have told him already. I went straightaway to the library on their departure. He was writing a letter, and he was most interested to know in detail what occurred. He laughed when I told him and said he regretted not being present to see Lady Ebbington-Smythe discomfited by a schoolgirl, which I am not,” she added indignantly.
Angelica knew an instant’s impulse to physical violence but whether directed against the viscount or his mischievous sister she could not have said. However, the moment passed and she was soon able with tolerably good grace to fall in with Lydia’s plans for shopping.
Despite her scruples, Angelica was female enough to enjoy every moment of the many shopping expeditions she and Lydia undertook in the next few days. From many years of sewing, she knew well what suited her style best and quickly selected a design for her wedding gown that very afternoon. It was sheer joy to order gowns, morning dresses, afternoon dresses, pelisses and hats, plus the attendant accessories to compliment the various costumes.
The two girls were pleasantly tired on their return to Grosvenor Square, but tea and the prospect of an evening at the play revived them sufficiently to take pains over their toilettes.
Lydia, who was enjoying the whole situation enormously, insisted on sending Marie up to Angelica to dress her hair in a more formal style than her usual soft knot. Marie was delighted to have the opportunity to work with such long, luxuriant tresses and applied herself eagerly to the task. She swept the hair to the top of Angelica’s head and pinned it there in sections which she crossed in an almost plaited effect, allowing some curls to fall free, not over the ears in the prevailing fashion, but down her back. She was so patently pleased with her efforts that Angelica forbore to state her own fears that it was rather too elaborate.
About her dress she had no doubts at all. The rich greeny-blue Italian silk had made up delightfully, and the pale pink of her long gloves made an unusual and dramatic contrast. By a stroke of good fortune, they had spotted a lovely stole of Albany gauze in the same ravishing pink shot through with silver. She allowed Marie to help her drape it becomingly about her creamy shoulders later in Lydia’s bedroom.
“Miss Wayne, you look très ravissante. No one will believe this so jolie gown was made by other than a Frenchwoman,” s
he declared seriously.
Angelica realized this was the highest praise of which Marie was capable, and a little glow of pleasure heightened her normally pale skin as she admired the total effect before the long mirror. The knowledge that she in no way resembled anyone’s picture of a governess gave her confidence that she would not disappoint the viscount. She resolutely refused to dwell on the coming ordeal of her first public appearance as the second fiancée of the Viscount Desmond in one week.
Lydia, adorable in a youthfully styled gown of ivory silk with coffee-coloured ruffles, caught up a matching scarf and urged her to make haste downstairs. For once, there was no mischief in her eyes as she said seriously, “It won’t do to delay until all your courage oozes away, Angel. You look absolutely lovely, and Giles will be very proud of you.”
Angelica’s lips trembled into a grateful smile for her young friend’s thoughtfulness, and for the first time she felt a slight sense of anticipation rising at the thought of being seen with the viscount, knowing she was to be his wife. He came forward unsmilingly at their entrance, and she held her breath momentarily in her fear that she would disappoint him. However he raised her hand to his lips and said just for her ears, “You look beautiful, my dear. I shall be greatly envied tonight.”
It was nonsense, of course, but she was deeply grateful and smiled up at him warmly as he led her over to Lady Orbridge for her inspection.
Aunt Minerva, having settled matters to her satisfaction, was in a mellow mood, even allowing that some of the newer fashions did achieve a certain unstressed elegance. She admired Angelica’s ring and patted her cheek fondly before demanding to know why that foolish dandy, Robert, was never on time. However, Lord Robert had entered the room while she was inspecting Angelica, and spoke indignantly in his own defence.
The dinner party that night was a very merry one, consisting entirely of persons who liked each other — a generally unattainable dream for most hostesses. Consequently, the comfortable mood thus engendered still enveloped them when they later entered their box at the theatre. Angelica had had no leisure in which to become anxious, because Giles had been very attentive and Robert and Lydia were in their usual high spirits. If Angelica had had any doubts about Lord Robert’s acceptance of her as a suitable wife for his friend, the warmth and sincerity of his felicitations had dispelled them at once.
During the first act of the play, she remained relaxed and even managed to enjoy the excellent performances. They had come in a bare moment before the curtain went up, so she did not become conscious of curious eyes on their box until the interval. They were then besieged with callers, most of whom came to be presented to the viscount’s new fiancée. At one point, Lydia leaned over and whispered in Angelica’s ear that their current popularity was certainly a tribute to the speed and efficiency of Lady Ebbington-Smythe’s news-carrying tongue.
Angelica gave a gurgle of laughter, which caused two gentlemen who were waiting to be presented to revise hastily their opinions of her physical charms. By Gad, when the wench smiled, revealing that unexpected dimple, she lit up like a candle. Maybe that sly dog Desmond knew what he was doing after all.
Colonel Revesby was among the callers during the second interval. He expressed pleasure at the chance to renew his acquaintance with Angelica and heartily congratulated his friend on his good fortune. A sharp-eyed matron of uncertain age, elaborately dressed in violet satin and diamonds, who had professed herself all eagerness to meet the viscount’s fiancée, said abruptly, “But what is this, Colonel? Surely I understood that this is Miss Wayne’s first appearance as Desmond’s fiancée; after all, it is only two days since — That is, I believe the engagement is of very recent date, so how is it you have stolen a march on the rest of us and made Miss Wayne’s acquaintance previously?”
“The engagement is a surprise to me also, Lady Scourby,” the colonel explained smoothly. “I met Miss Wayne before she became engaged to our discerning friend, Desmond.”
Angelica waited without breathing for Lady Scourby to give way to her obvious desire to question the colonel further on the circumstances surrounding his meeting with a girl who seemed to have been prestidigitated overnight into the beau monde, but something in the colonel’s bland gaze silenced that lady’s curiosity, and she quickly took her leave. Angelica unobtrusively released the breath she had been holding. She slanted a look at the viscount. He was perfectly at his ease talking with a party of friends. She supposed the awkward moment must have escaped his attention completely and knew a brief jab of irritation that he should be so unconcernedly enjoying himself while she was undergoing the not always kind scrutiny of the ton. However, when his friends left after being presented to Angelica, he lowered his voice and said, laughing:
“It seems the good colonel is more than a match for Lady Scourby’s acid tongue.”
“So you heard?”
“Of course I heard, but you already had one champion, and did not require my aid. In any case, it must come out that you were employed by me as a governess. Barbara will see to that,” he said with a calm that infuriated her for no fathomable reason.
“What do you mean ‘were employed’? I am still Jenny’s governess.” Her voice was soft, but there was a decidedly militant tilt to her small chin. She knew she was behaving badly, but some demon of mischief goaded her on.
He gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, then said with quiet determination, “You ceased to be Jenny’s governess yesterday morning. This week you are her friend, and after next week you will be her mother.”
Her defiance dropped from her like a discarded cloak, and she put out her hand in mute apology. He grasped it firmly and retained it in his until the next caller arrived at the box.
Only one other awkward moment occurred to blur the general happiness of the evening. The middle-aged wife of one of Giles’s acquaintances, after archly congratulating him on his good fortune in winning such an attractive fiancée, turned to Angelica with a bright smile.
“And when is the wedding to be, my dear?”
Before Angelica could reply, Giles said blandly, “Have you forgotten that you have already received an invitation to a wedding, Mrs. Anson?” As the lady in question blinked in surprise, he calmly added the information that the arrangements for time and place were as previously scheduled.
Then before Angelica’s bemused eyes, Mrs. Anson shed her arch manner and smiled with real warmth at the viscount while patting his hand. “Good for you, my dear boy.” Then turning to include Angelica in her remarks, “I wish you both happiness and a long life together.”
Despite her embarrassment, Angelica felt she had made one friend that evening.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The week before her wedding was crammed with shopping excursions and social events. Angelica patiently endured the tedium of long hours of fittings for the wardrobe with which Giles was so determined to provide her. No one could have guessed from her calm demeanour that she writhed under the pricks to her pride which these sessions inevitably unleashed. Being a level-headed girl, she did not underrate her own attractiveness, but she accepted without rancour the knowledge that she was no dramatic beauty like Lady Barbara. By presenting her exquisitely gowned on all occasions and paying her assiduous attention, she knew the viscount hoped to create the impression with his friends that she was his true choice for a wife, and this knowledge she also accepted, but with a slight bitterness. Though he might succeed in fooling some among his acquaintance, which might ease his sense of humiliation at being jilted, she was of the opinion that many were watching this performance with amusement and scepticism. If his attentions had been motivated by love, she could have endured being a cynosure for the eyes of the polite world with true equanimity, so happy would she have been privately. Knowing this was not true, it cost her dearly to present an unruffled appearance in society. It seemed every hostess of his acquaintance was desirous of entertaining the viscount and his bride-to-be.
At least her odious pride enab
led her to keep smiling, she thought ruefully one evening as Marie helped her into a jade-green gown of softest velvet. Her sandals and gloves had been dyed to match, and she would wear a cloak of the same velvet. Giles had gifted her with a charming necklace and earring set of jade the day following their engagement and had requested her to have an outfit made up in the same colour. As she critically surveyed the monochromatic ensemble, she was amazed again at the viscount’s unerring taste. He had planned the decoration of the beautiful suite she was soon to occupy, and he took an unusual interest in what she wore. Billy had not the least knowledge of women’s fashions and took no notice of his surroundings at all. As he was the only male close to her, she had not unnaturally assumed that gentlemen paid little attention to the details of women’s dress. And she greatly preferred them unobservant, she thought wrathfully later as Giles’s critical eye ran over her knowledgeably, for all the world as if he were appraising a painting he was considering purchasing. As he finished his inventory, he became aware of a deep green gaze and the slightly aggressive tilt to her chin.
“There is a faintly martial air about you that belies your really soft and lovely appearance in that gown. Green is your colour, my dear. Your eyes rival the jade.”
Angelica struggled to maintain her annoyance in the face of his praise.
“I feel like a slave on the auction block,” she muttered ungraciously.
Giles threw back his head and gave a boyish shout of laughter, putting her forcibly in mind of her childhood saviour.
“I’ll buy it,” he chuckled, wickedly enjoying the faint colour which crept into her cheeks at his bold gaze.
This new, carefree Giles had the most paralyzing effect on her breathing, Angelica thought indignantly, but her lips curved upward in a reluctant smile as she allowed him to assist with her cloak. Indeed, in the privacy of his home Giles had become a friendly, undemanding companion in whose company she could relax and almost forget her situation. It was only when he adopted that spurious lover-like air in public that she was mercilessly reminded that she had lost her heart to a man who was marrying her to save his face and provide his sister with a chaperone.
