Finagled (3 page)

"I don’t know if I should, if you aren't entertaining marriage at all," she said.

"But that makes it perfectly harmless, dance with him, girl!" Tirinia said. This was going quite better than she had hoped, the fact that this young man was not seeking a wife was probably to their best advantage. If he found himself in a position of sullying a young woman’s reputation he would surely do the right thing and ask for her hand. Especially since he was the type to go to London on business but attend parties on family obligation. It was good to find an obligated man. Now, how to manufacture a romantic misunderstanding between the young couple? She would have to take her time and do it carefully. Others must come to understand firstly that the Duke of Blusterfuss had shown a preference. She certainly had her work cut out for her, but first of all she needed to learn all she could about this man, what his true prospects were and how often they could expect to see him the rest of the season.

Ramona danced with the Duke of Blusterfuss and was returned to her seat. She did not really think much of him as she spent the rest of her evening resuming interactions with other young men she considered frankly more suitable. Tirinia let her alone, moving from group to group of acquaintances,  quizzing them about this unmarried Duke who was not in search of a wife. Indeed! What a notion! By the end of the evening she discovered he had an heir; a young nephew, Andrew, the son of a favorite and deceased sibling, the boy’s father had been ruined by an expensive wife. Well then, perhaps this said something of the Duke’s  motive. She could see many reasons behind it with this history. His younger brother Malcolm was ruined by a wife, that might put one off the idea of marriage,  and their unfortunate son left penniless, it would be quite noble to pass the family inheritance on to such an unfortunate case. Sensical and somewhat self-sacrificing. She wanted George Flanders for her niece more than ever now.

Ramona had been impressed by the Duke’s graceful dancing, somewhat unexpected from a man who lacked lace and beautiful eyelashes, but there it was, that and he was strong, she had felt herself gliding across the dance floor in his powerful arms in an invigorating fashion. Still, she did not seek him out with her eyes as  she listened to the self aggrandizing spiels of her other young men, she listened raptly, giggled appropriately and felt herself get heady from champagne, just as she felt she ought. When Tirinia returned, full to bursting with gossip about the Duke it took her a moment to grasp who she was talking about.

"What are you going on about?" she asked, her quickened heartbeat fluttering the lace at her collar endearingly.

"Why! The Duke of Blusterfuss, of course, you goosey female! George Flanders!" Tirinia sat down beside Ramona with a flutter.

"Well whatever for, aunt!?" Ramona replied, beginning to stand as she spied a fellow coming to claim his dance.

"Must you set off now, dear?" Tirinia asked, narrowing her eyes at the approaching beau.

"Indeed, I promised this dance to Jonathan Fellows, two weeks ago!" she replied, looking eagerly in the direction of the young man, a particular favorite, with auburn hair and cold green eyes.

"I never cared for redheaded men, myself, they were too at odds with my own complexion," Tirinia said with disdain.

"Well I think they are quite charming, aunt, and this one is going to charm me for several minutes,
right now
. Excuse me," she said, as he reached them and took Ramona's outstretched lily white hand in his own, just as pale.

"Pah!" Tirinia said, to no one in particular. She looked around for the Duke of Blusterfuss, trying to avoid the vision of her niece, in a pale blue satin, spinning around on the arm of that foppish snit.

When Tirinia had been a young lady, that sort of man would have been giggled at behind the open fans of all of her confidantes. To imagine such a fellow being sought after, desired, prized. That was what ladies were for, decoration, prettiness, something easy on the eyes, but men were supposed to be forces of nature, large, broad and tall, when they entered a room you looked because the very flavor of the air changed to something visceral, horseflesh, leather and cigars. She experienced a flutter in her heart like she hadn’t felt in 30 years when she looked at the Duke of Blusterfuss. He was a real man, she knew  it not only from her own superficial observation, but from the mouths of mutual friends. Many disapproved of the time he spent at his estate, the tales of how invested he was in the business of running it, the fact that he engaged quite closely with his farmers in the proper breeding of his animals, personally selecting the best bitch for his hunting dogs, bringing the horses with the best bloodlines into his stables. His masculinity made Tirinia quiver.  If she were just 30 years younger... she would be married, but in the very least she would have taken him behind one of the over-sized hothouse flower pots and given him the time of his life with her vast experience. Looking at his hands, she imagined he could even teach her a thing or two, and that was not something she had thought in decades.

So thrilling! It was almost a shame to waste him on Ramona, who seemed so clueless, but surely she would thank Tirinia for it in the future, when she was grasping that young buck between her slender thighs. So invigorating!

Tirinia made up a new itinerary. Their social obligations became the Duke of Blusterfuss, George Flanders’ as well. She finagled invitations to parties, teas, suppers and musical performances that she barely had a right to attend. They became interested in plays and operas that were previously overlooked. By the end of two weeks they had seen George Flanders at ten different affairs, and he had come to linger with them in conversation, finding Ramona's disinterested interestingness beguiling. Tirinia told many amusing stories from her youth, George had much to say about his childhood, and Ramona found herself occasionally caught up in an unexpected camaraderie, more like friendship than any of the romantic entanglements she had thus enjoyed.

People were talking. The small group gathered in the corner at Lord Harbor's concerto, raptly engaged in intellectual converse. Tirinia arranged for her dearest friends to seat Ramona and George side by side at their dinner parties, she even arranged for George to be invited unexpectedly to a few he couldn’t find reason to deny. A genuine rapport had been built.

Ramona barely noticed as her regular suitors came to her side less and less, and noticed not at all how they stood in the wings scowling at the Duke of Blusterfuss.  When her mother made some tantalizing mention of future wedding bells, having heard from so many that Ramona and the Duke of Blusterfuss were practically inseparable, she wondered which young man of her many her mother was promoting. She was remained clueless.

The Duke himself found nothing harmful in this friendship. He was hardly ever alone with Ramona, unless holding her at arm’s length on a dance floor full of hundreds could be considered alone, and she seemed attentive and amusing without appearing cloying, clingy, needy or overly flirtatious, as so many women were when faced with an unmarried Duke. He admitted that she was a beautiful creature and he felt himself perhaps feeling something other than friendship or brotherly affection when she looked up at him with her startling blue eyes lit with laughter,  but he was a strong man, well used to keeping his masculine needs in check, and since he trusted himself not to appear overly interested, and she herself had exhibited this trait time and again, he saw no harm in continuing a mutually entertaining relationship with this young woman and her elderly aunt.

Tirinia enjoyed many secret smiles over the days, evenings and weeks spent chaperoning this young couple. She caught the admiration in the Duke of Blusterfuss' eyes when Ramona was wearing a particularly dashing gown, had her hair piled particularly high to show off her slender white neck or dress cut low to reveal her tantalizing decolletage. From there Tirinia promoted certain styles of hair and dress that she had observed the Duke admiring. Ramona became more and more to his taste with every viewing, and the crafty Tirinia was more aware of this than anyone else involved. 

A very important party was coming up. Tirinia had arranged for an invitation because the house was well known for it's elaborate mazes and gardens, perfect for romantic liaisons, and used for this purpose by many young couples throughout the years. She thought that finally the moment had come. When she helped Ramona into her slippers on the evening of the ball, she slipped a small pin into to the sole of the Burgundy silk shoes, just enough that with extended walking it would prod the girl obnoxiously without causing any real harm. As planned Ramona arrived in high spirits, and because she had not been taken to dancing with many partners of late, did not protest when Tirinia asked that she remain seated with her for the duration of many turns. Tirinia claimed a slight light-headedness, a problem of her age, she said, though in fact she felt as spry and excited as she had in her own youth, anticipating a garden liaison of her own, so many years before.

When the Duke arrived and made his turn of the room, exchanging pleasantries with many friends and acquaintances, Ramona was sipping her champagne idly and listening head half cocked to Tirinia's long list of ailments.

"Oh look, here is our Duke," Tirinia said, spying his approach, "I must find the strength to be a good companion to you both."

Ramona looked up, attention suddenly caught. She was surprised by the sudden emotion in her breast when she saw the swarthy northerner. She recalled this feeling, she had felt it before at the sight of several young men, but she had expected it then, with their dazzling good looks and her corsets combined, a little dizziness was expected. Surely she had never noticed how fine George Flanders' jawline was, how very fine indeed.

"Ah, my dearest Tirinia," he said on his approach, "and her sister, I believe," he jibed, smirking over Ramona's hand.

"You insult the poor child!" Tirinia said with a delighted giggle.

"No indeed," Ramona said, reaching over to give Tirinia's hand a squeeze, "You are looking particularly lovely this evening, Aunt, your coloring is so high, though I fear it is because you are feeling unwell."

Tirinia's eyes widened. Could Ramona be cleverer than she had given credit, was this an accident or was she playing into Tirinia's plan on purpose? Had she already felt the poke of the pin in her delicate little foot? Whatever the case, she was delighted to have a lead-in to her next course of action.

"Oh, perhaps so, perhaps a turn in the gardens would do me well, fresh air and the vitality of action. Will you please accompany me, both of you, I should hate to be deprived of our conversation, I do so thrive on it, I feel." Just like that they were on their way out the french doors.

The night was beautiful, the sky particularly navy, with a large white moon to compliment Ramona's glossy blonde curls. The garden smelled beautiful, full of night blooming delights, it was a natural odor that the trio remarked was much more pleasing than the perfumes or oils that many women mixed and dabbed on themselves for these affairs.

"I think this is doing me well," Tirinia said, as they entered an arched arbor, with a sweet little bench, "I should like to sit a spell."

Tirinia sat down, waved the other two to continue their walk, just around the arbor, she would join them in a moment. They were hardly out of sight when she stood again and quickly walked back to the house. She waited a moment at the french doors, anticipating the soft cry she expected her niece to expel. When she heard it she lifted her violet skirts and rushed into the house, startling several people...

"My niece, I heard her cry, I fear she has been injured!" she exclaimed.

Ramona was in the Duke's strong arms, she felt breathless and confused and incredibly hot. She had stumbled and cried out as the small sharp pin had broken through a layer of fabric and stabbed her in the heel. Grabbing onto the Duke's lapels with urgency, her face surprised by the slight pain, she hardly knew what was happening. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, as she leaned down to inspect her slipper, and drew out the pin. She leaned against him as he led her back to the arbor, where Tirinia no longer sat, the vacated bench accommodated the both of them as she wiped away slight and sudden tears. His closeness became more real as the pain subsided, and then suddenly, he reached for her chin and lifted her lips to his and it made some sort of sense.

Ramona had never been kissed before, not actually, not on the mouth, only heated and sloppy on the cheek as she turned away with a cry, she had been kissed. She had never been kissed with every aspect of someone’s mouth, their body and their hands. The Duke of Blusterfuss kissed her, with his fingers in her hair, he kissed her, with the pressure of his chest against hers, he kissed her, not to mention his lips, his tongue, his teeth, they kissed her, it seemed so slow and then suddenly like a cold bucket of water thrown over them the voices came. Tirinia exclaiming, "Oh my!" and more people, so many people, perhaps 10 or 100,  it seemed like so many. Ramona felt dizzy enough from the sweet pressure of George's lips, but seeing the crowd tittering and exclaiming she could no longer keep her tender hold upon consciousness. She slipped into George's arms, it felt like sinking into a dream, or out of one, yes, none of this was really happening, slipping from one dream to another, a warm feather bed, fat downy pillows, cool against her heated, feverish face. Just a dream.

She awoke. Her head hurt, she felt first the tight pins holding her coiffure into place. Why ever would she be in bed with her hair so elaborately dressed? She groaned. It was not ladylike, it was the sound of a throat full of tears, and the sobbing began. She was completely ruined. In the arms of someone completely unsuitable, alone, enraptured and completely ruined.

"Why are you caterwauling?" Tirinia asked, standing beside the bed. The bed, in a strange room, with unfamiliar bedside knick knacks. She couldn't even climb under the covers and refuse to leave, she was still at the party house.

"Oh God, Tirinia, can you not see?" she sobbed, "I am completely ruined! Unsuitable for anything but widow's weeds and a life spent praying for salvation!"

"Do you expect the Duke to die so soon after you are wed?" Tirinia asked.

"Wed? You do not think I was locked in that terrible, dirty, disgusting, ruinous embrace after a marriage proposal, do you?" Ramona choked out.

"No indeed, but everyone else did, and that is as much the same thing. If that was
not
what they took away, my dear, you would be ruined."

"But it was not that, Aunt, God, what must he think of me? I should have resisted, it happened so quickly!"

"It was he that kissed you, then?" Tirinia asked, "I did think so, but you seemed rather savvy earlier in the evening. You are clearly acting the fool now. Of course he kissed you, a small injured forest animal at his very mercy."

"Injured, the pin in my foot! How in the world did that get there...?" Ramona's eyes narrowed, "Oh dear lord, Aunt, you did not?"

"You needed prodding, and he was clearly not going to make the first move without motivation. You both did beautifully."

"Well... at least I should be able to get home without a scene, if everyone suspects we are engaged, but from there, oh a life spent indoors and never again to dance! It is so painful, and so terribly mean of you, Aunt Tirinia. I thought you wanted to see me wed well, but here now, I see, you want to keep me as a small downtrodden mouse, your companion in your dotage, I suppose, but such a cruel trick to play!"

"You are being utterly thick, Ramona, did you not hear me, do your ears need checked, a cleaning perhaps?" She took Ramona firmly by the head and shook her about a bit. "You are going to get married, silly goose, well above your expectations and to a man who is clearly very fond of you."

"I don’t know what you are trying to say, Aunt, it all sounds rather stupid to me. I have not ruined his reputation at all. There was no betrothal and I am not going to claim one. That would be manipulative and horrible of me."

"But he, he is an honorable man, my dear, he will not let you go to ruin, I believe he is a great man, that is why I chose him for you."

"Chose him? How could you do this to me, and to him? He is an honorable man, like you have said, but even if he did propose now, I would reveal all to him, I would not make him take me simply for my own reputation when there is no feeling behind it. I was always looking for a lover, Aunt, as well as a husband."

"What was he doing to you on that bench, if not making love?" Tirinia inquired.

"More manipulation, on your part! Some men cannot keep their baser needs in check when a girl appears as wanton as I did! Oh what he must think of me! A hussy, a courtesan, such a slattern!" she wept.

"You have very much to learn, Ramona." Tirinia scoffed, "Especially about men like the Duke of Blusterfuss. And in time, as his wife, you shall."

"You don't let up!" Ramona moaned, "just, oh, let us leave this place, I shall never dance or wear pretty things again, for I am ruined!"