Lucy Muir (10 page)

Mrs. Halcott shook her head sadly at the improvidence of Melissa’s parents in leaving their daughter unprovided for.

“However, you are not to worry. I have done what I could to counteract the rumours. You told me that Melissa did have a dowry, and I have implied it is fairly substantial.”

“Melissa’s dowry
is
fairly substantial,” Anne agreed cautiously, “but I would not wish to mislead people.”

“Oh, no, my dear, I have not specified an amount; I’ve simply assured those who have inquired that it does exist. The rest they do for me,” she concluded.

Anne looked at Mrs. Halcott in some dismay. If word got back to Lord Stanton, would he consider that she had forfeited the wager? She was not supposed to mention the amount of Melissa’s dowry, but Mrs. Halcott had said she did not specify an amount. Certainly she could not fault Mrs. Halcott. She could have had no way of knowing.

“Thank you for telling me about the rumours and what you have been doing to stop them,” Anne said, “but I would prefer not to emphasise Melissa’s dowry. It is not that substantial.”

“Now don’t you worry,” Mrs. Halcott said, patting Anne’s hand fondly. “Melissa will make a fine match before the Season is over. With her charm and beauty we shall be able to ride out this small setback.”

After Mrs. Halcott left, Anne poured herself another cup of the now-cold tea and pondered the ways of Society. It still seemed unbelievable that a rumour that she and Melissa had no money could do much damage. Perhaps it was because they
appeared
to have money, she decided. They resided at a good address and wore fashionable clothes. She supposed the ton would look upon that as an intentional deception, since they were newcomers in Society. Upstarts trying to enter where they had no right to be. Fortunately, except for fewer invitations, they did not seem to have lost by the rumours. Viscount Woolbridge still called upon them, as did others of Melissa’s admirers. Anne leaned forward to pour another cup of tea, spilling half of it into the saucer when Benton announced another caller.

“Lord Stanton.”

Chapter Seven

Anne set down the Staffordshire teapot with an unsteady hand and rose to greet Lord Stanton. Despite her shock at seeing him, she could not help being amused by the expression on her butler’s face. It was a comical combination of awe, admiration, concern and pugnacity. The confident manners and the exquisite tailoring of the marquess’s clothes demanded Benton’s veneration, but he was also aware of Lord Stanton’s less than savoury reputation. He could not refuse to announce him, but was clearly concerned about leaving him in the drawing room alone with his mistress. Anne reassured Benton with a nod.

“Please bring some refreshment for Lord Stanton, Benton.”

“Where did you get that butler?” Lord Stanton asked as Benton left the room. “He is still wet behind the ears.”

“That was one way we cut down on expenses,” explained Anne. “He gives very good service despite his youth,” she said in his defense.

Anne sat down on the damask sofa, while Lord Stanton lounged negligently against the mantelpiece, looking about the modestly furnished room with interest.

“Why are you here, singling me out, Lord Stan-ton?” Anne asked after Benton had served Lord Stanton with wine and left them alone. “You are not keeping to the terms of our wager.”

“I, Miss Southwell?” countered Lord Stanton. “You, I believe, were the first to digress, spreading about word of your cousin’s dowry.”

“Indeed I did not, Lord Stanton,” Anne said, much stung. “I have said nothing about Melissa’s dowry. Mrs. Halcott was questioned by the mamas of some of Melissa’s prospective suitors, but only assured them that Melissa
had
a dowry. Mrs. Halcott told me that there is a rumour going about that Melissa and I are penniless, and she was afraid it might hurt Melissa’s chances of making a good match.”

Lord Stanton observed Anne’s heightened colour and angry green eyes, thinking again how beautiful and desirable she was. He admired the picture she made in her long-sleeved pink muslin morning dress and lace cap, wishing he could remove the cap and run his fingers through her hair.

An impatient shake of Anne’s head recalled him to his reasons for stopping at Half Moon Street. He was aware of the rumours of their insolvency as well as the counter-rumours about the dowry. He had supposed the temptation to tell of the dowry when the rumours of their impoverished financial state began had compelled Anne to act impulsively. Seeing her, he knew that not even the rumours would have moved her not to play fairly.

“Very well, I will accept your word, if you in turn will forgive my calling upon you here,” he said, leaving his position by the fireplace and seating himself across from Anne on a mahogany Chippendale-style chair.

“Gladly, Lord Stanton. I concede that you thought you had cause to take me to task,” Anne acknowledged.

“Let us cry pax, then,” Lord Stanton said with the smile Anne found so irresistible. “Perhaps I can even help you,” he added. “Do you have any idea where the rumours of your precarious financial state originated?”

“None at all, Lord Stanton,” Anne said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “It could have been anyone who knew of the baronet’s financial state when he died. I confess I have been having difficulty believing that such an insignificant rumour could so affect our social life. Many of the girls making their come-outs this Season do not have great fortunes.”

“I did warn you not to make wagers about things of which you had insufficient knowledge,” reminded Lord Stanton. “Society is rarely kind, or fair. Even my title and wealth do not admit me to Almack’s or to the homes of some of the highest sticklers.”

“In your case I think it is warranted,” Anne replied with spirit.

“Perhaps I have reformed,” he suggested.

“Lord Parnell would not agree,” Anne replied, and then blushed at the indelicacy of her response.

Lord Stanton, however, merely grinned. “Jealous? There is no reason to be, I assure you.”

Anne blushed more deeply, again feeling the pull of Lord Stanton’s personality. The intimacy she had felt with him at Longworth had been subtly re-established. They sat for a moment in silence, each very aware of the other. Anne was not sure whether to be glad or sorry when Sanders came in with some needlework and settled herself in a corner chair. Evidently, Benton, worried about his mistress’s reputation, had informed Sanders of Lord Stanton’s call.

Lord Stanton smiled wryly at Anne, and finishing his wine, he rose to leave. As he was bidding Anne good-bye, Melissa and Lord Woolbridge returned. Lord Woolbridge could not conceal a look of surprise at Lord Stanton’s presence in the drawing room, but he greeted the marquess civilly. Melissa greeted him with more warmth, asking him to stay, but Lord Stanton begged another appointment and departed.

As Anne rang for more refreshments, two more callers were announced, and Lord Millbank and his sister entered the room. Anne smiled to herself. The rumours hadn’t scared off their closest friends—that was evident by the parade of company they were having this morning. As was becoming usual, Lord Millbank attached himself to Anne. He was, as usual, dressed in the latest stare of fashion in a wasp-waisted coat with puffed shoulders, two waistcoats of different lengths and colours, and striped trousers. Anne continued to puzzle over Lord Millbank’s attention to her, not realizing that her beauty and the polite consideration she gave to his questions of dress were a compelling attraction. Younger women were too concerned with their own appearance to give his proper attention, in Lord Millbank’s experience.

As Lord Millbank expounded on the merits of Schultz versus Weston, Anne intercepted a wistful look Lady Amelia directed at Lord Woolbridge and Melissa as the two conversed. Anne wondered how Lady Amelia would take when she was presented, and feared she would not be a great success despite her connexions. Lady Amelia’s manners, though pleasing, were too quiet, and her looks were only passable. Anne tried to think of some single young gentleman who might find the young woman attractive, but she came up empty-handed. It was an unfortunate fact that gentlemen as a rule did not appreciate the qualities of a shy young girl like Lady Amelia. Anne realised she was trying to match-make, and decided she should not interfere.

After their guests left, Melissa spoke to Anne.

“Why did Lord Stanton come here this morning, Anne? I thought he was planning to avoid us to protect our reputations. Does he feel it is safe for us to be friends now?”

“He wished to find out how we were getting along, and felt it would be safe for him to make a short morning call,” Anne said evasively, glancing at Sanders, still sitting in the corner with her sewing,

“That was thoughtful of him. I do like Lord Stan-ton. It is a pity he has such a bad reputation.” Melissa was silent for a moment, and then asked, “Anne, what do you think of Captain Leslie?”

“Captain Leslie?” Anne repeated, her thoughts still with Lord Stanton.

“Yes. I noticed his behaviour towards you the night we went to Vauxhall, and I think he is becoming quite fond of you. If he makes an offer, will you accept?”

Anne thought a moment before answering. Would she accept? She liked and respected Captain Leslie— the talks she had had with him about her father and brother had been precious to her—but did she have the feelings for him that a woman should for a man she wished to marry?

“I don’t know, Melissa. I really had not thought about marrying, myself. How do you feel about
your
most persistent suitors, Lord Woolbridge and Lieutenant Halcott? They appear to be laying claim to you at the functions we’ve attended, and are frightening away any other prospective suitors with their black looks.”

Anne did not really think Melissa considered young Lieutenant Halcott a serious suitor, but the rivalry that had been developing between him and Lord Woolbridge was most amusing. Melissa laughed, accepting Anne’s change of subject.

“It is too soon to decide. They are both very agreeable, but so are most of the gentlemen I have met. I cannot say who I prefer.”

* * * *

That evening Anne and her ward attended a minor ball given at the small brick-fronted town house of Mrs. Spencer’s sister, Mrs. Chambers. Anne entered the house with some trepidation, wondering if they would be cut by any of those attending who had heard the rumours about their financial state. However, Mr. and Mrs. Chambers welcomed them courteously, and as she and Melissa were shown into the double drawing rooms which had been opened out to form a ballroom, she was relieved to find they were greeted as usual by their acquaintances.

Melissa was quickly surrounded by her court, with Viscount Woolbridge and Lieutenant Halcott most prominent. Evidently, whatever damage had been done by the rumours of their insolvency had been counteracted by the stories of Melissa’s dowry put about by Mrs. Halcott, or many of her admirers would have deserted her. Anne gave a sigh of relief as the first set began to form, and was once again grateful for a friend such as Mrs. Halcott.

Anne would not have felt as secure if she had observed Lady Conliffe’s face at that moment. Lady Conliffe had not intended to put in an appearance at Mrs. Chambers’s ball, as it was not a particularly fashionable gathering. Earlier that week, however, she had spoken to Lord Woolbridge at a rout. He had asked if she would be attending the Chambers’ ball, and had solicited her hand for the opening dance. Lord Woolbridge had been spending more and more time with Miss Amberly and correspondingly less with her, so Lady Conliffe thought it politic to say she would be at the ball.

Hoping to recapture Lord Woolbridge’s straying attention, Lady Conliffe had dressed with especial care for the evening, and knew she was looking her best. She wore a peach print muslin gown of exceptionally fine material that exhibited her tall and slender form to advantage. She had accentuated the fashionable square décolletage of her gown with a simple carnelian pendant, and the carnelian drops hanging from her delicate ears drew attention to her graceful throat. Perfectly fitting gloves of peach silk emphasized her shapely arms, and a headdress of peach and white flowers tied with silk ribbons adorned her glossy dark hair. She had received many admiring looks from both the ladies and the gentlemen present, but Lord Woolbridge, who had not even noticed her, was leading Miss Amberly out for the first set!

None of Lady Conliffe’s fury at the unforgivable snub Lord Woolbridge was dealing her showed on her face as she stood alone a moment while the men led out their partners for the opening set. A young man soon noticed her partnerless state and, not believing his good fortune, hastened to request her hand for the dance.

Lady Conliffe smiled graciously and accepted, but as she automatically performed the steps of the dance, she could not help directing several dagger glances towards Miss Amberly. That provincial chit! She looked hardly old enough to be at a ball, in her unfashionably full-skirted white muslin gown trimmed with blue ribbons and bows.

The figures of the dance brought Lady Conliffe and her partner close to Lord Woolbridge and Miss Amberly, and she had the satisfaction of seeing Lord Woolbridge stumble and turn fiery red as the realisation of what he had done came over him.

After the dance, Lady Conliffe’s eager young partner went to procure a glass of ratafia for her, and she saw a flustered Lord Woolbridge approaching her chair.

“Lady Conliffe, I—I—” he stuttered, all his usual social grace deserting him completely. Genuinely stricken by his appalling breach of manners, he searched his mind desperately for something to say that would rectify the situation.

“Yes?” Lady Conliffe asked sweetly, fanning herself lightly as though from the exertion of the dance, determined to offer no help to the miserable viscount. Let him get himself out of his coil. She looked at him coolly, her extreme anger betrayed only by two bright red spots on her cheeks and the audible snap with which she closed her painted silk fan.

Fortunately for Lord Woolbridge, Lady Conliffe’s partner returned with her ratafia at this juncture. Lady Conliffe took it with a smile as the young man bowed to the viscount.