My Wayward Lady (2 page)
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
desperately struggling to stifle giggles that threatened to overcome them. He winked at them and then turned back to the teacher, assuming an expression of innocent earnestness that was bound to provoke his lovely instructress.
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My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
Lord Chalfont was entirely correct in his assumptions. Lady Harriet Fareham, for that was the name of the erstwhile Quakeress, longed to slap his handsome face, as his expression resembled nothing so much as her brother Charlie's when he was at his most provoking. Odious man! He knew very well he was upsetting the class and threatening her composure. Well, he was not going to get away with it. Lady Harriet Fareham was not going to allow some Bond Street beau to disconcert her by acting like a coxcomb. Drawing herself to her full height, which she knew to be woefully short by fashionable standards, Harriet strode over to the marquess and handed her book to him. "Very well." She snapped. "We are at the top of page three. You may continue, ladies." And, refusing to be further disconcerted by the intruder, Harriet began to recite from memory the exercises they had been concentrating on before the insolent gentleman had so rudely disrupted them.
After the briefest exchange of a few sly smiles, the young women followed their teacher's lead and order was restored, at least outwardly. Inwardly, Harriet was fuming. How dare he burst into a private room in such a way, stare at her in the most impudent manner, and then force his presence on them? It was outside of enough! She darted a furious glance at the intruder only to discover that he was looking straight at her and grinning in the most impertinent way. Catching her eye, he raised one mobile eyebrow and slowly winked at her. 14
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
Oooh! It took all of Harriet's self-control to ignore him when she really longed to stomp over and strangle the man. It was only by exerting extraordinary concentration that she was able to recall the lesson that they were doing and continue on with her work. Despite her best efforts, however, her heart was not entirely in it and the schoolroom lacked the air of intense concentration that had existed before Lord Chalfont's appearance.
Harriet sighed. The girls had been making such progress until this particular moment that she had truly been very pleased with herself and with them. In truth, she had not expected to discover anything half so interesting and rewarding during her stay in London as teaching the girls at the Temple of Venus to read and write, and she devoutly hoped that the tall blond gentleman who had foisted himself upon them in such an unmannerly fashion was not going to ruin it for all of them.
For the moment he sat there, book in hand, not even pretending to follow along, a teasing light in his amber eyes and a smug smile of satisfaction on his lips that Harriet ached to wipe off. She detested such men—selfish pleasure seekers who flitted from one thing to another with never a thought for anyone or anything else beyond their own idle amusement. Harriet had no idea how clearly these thoughts were mirrored on her expressive features. Her indignation was so intense that even the slight sprinkling of freckles across her nose seemed to glow with it. Adrian chuckled to himself. She was a spirited little thing, this Quakeress, a delicious change from all the marriage-mad young misses who were forever 15
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
trying to attract his attention, and a definite contrast to the coolly elegant Alicia who simply assumed that he was hers to command. He wondered how so very proper a young miss came to be in an establishment such as the Temple of Venus and what she thought of this sort of place. The marquess's eyes glinted with amusement as he resolved to follow her on her way out and discover the answer to his speculations. Harriet glanced at the clock on the mantel behind the girls. At last the hour was up and she could put an end to this little charade that seemed to be providing so much diversion for their unwelcome visitor. Clearing her throat sharply, she said,
"That will be all for today, girls. I shall be back again at—at—
my usual time." And turning on her heel, she marched from the room without a backward glance.
Adrian grinned. She was a clever little thing all right and not about to acknowledge his presence enough even to retrieve her book, nor was she going to betray the time and date of her next appearance at the Temple of Venus. With a conspiratorial grin at his fellow students, he rose and hurried out after her, reaching the hall just in time to catch the sight of a gray skirt whisking around the corner. He arrived at the door at the end of the hall to see her climb into a waiting hackney.
Lord Chalfont ran down the steps and tried to keep pace with the carriage as it moved out of Saint James's and into the press of traffic along Piccadilly. There it slowed enough for him to catch up with it before turning into Bond Street where it stopped in front of a most elegant millinery establishment. 16
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
Adrian frowned in puzzlement. From the little he knew of the Quakers, he would not have thought that the delights of Bond Street would have held any allure for the occupant of the carriage. But then, he had also not expected that a Quaker would be quite as spirited as the Temple of Venus's charming instructress.
The Quakeress and a maid alighted and disappeared into the shop while the hackney slowly moved off down the crowded street. Adrian waited for as long as he could without appearing to be a Bond Street lounger, but to no avail. It seemed as though the ladies were going to be occupied for some time.
At last he gave up, consoling himself with the notion of becoming a steady customer at the Temple of Venus in order to encounter the intriguing young woman who, despite her reluctance to admit it in his presence, was obviously a regular visitor at the renowned establishment Adrian could not help but chuckle as he strolled along. Frequenting the company of beautiful women would not be so unpleasant after all, and his curiosity had been thoroughly aroused. In fact he could not think when he had been so interested in anything since he had returned from Europe.
Meanwhile his quarry, entirely oblivious to the heavy plotting she had inspired, was examining bonnets decidedly more frivolous than the plain one she now wore. She had been trying out the effect of the recently introduced Coburg bonnet whose narrow brim that turned off the forehead was excessively becoming and a delightful contrast to the unrelieved drabness of her Quakerish attire. 17
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
"What do you think, Rose?" Lady Harriet turned to her maid who had been examining some very enticing ribbons.
"Ooh, it is ever so lovely, miss, and the height of fashion," Rose exclaimed enthusiastically. The little maid was happy to see Lady Harriet's thoughts traveling along less serious lines. Though devoted to her mistress, she did wish Lady Harriet would spend just a little more time and effort on taking her proper place in the fashionable world. Good works were all very well, but someone as pretty and lively as her Lady Harriet should be out finding herself a dashing husband instead of helping young women who were no better than they should be.
Little did Rose guess that this sudden interest in bonnets was all the merest pretense on her mistress's part. Harriet was more unsettled than she wished to admit, even to herself, by the attentions of the bold gentleman at the Temple of Venus. Drat the man! His presence threatened to rob her of the one thing that she truly enjoyed in London and she fervently hoped he was not a regular customer.
Calm down,
Harriet, you are making a great piece of work over nothing,
she chided herself. None of the girls seemed to know him after all. He must have been a newcomer to burst in on them like that. Undoubtedly, she would never see him again. In spite of this sound logic, however, she continued to fret over it during the ride home to Berkeley Square. Lady Harriet Fareham had come to London under great duress for her one previous Season had shown her more than she cared to see of the frenetic and superficial world of the
ton.
It was only her elder sister's strong representations of 18
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
the importance of her family's supportive presence that had convinced Harriet to return to the metropolis, leaving behind her happy existence in the country.
This show of support was critical to the future of Lady Elizabeth, for Harriet's sister was about to make a truly brilliant match—always a delicate affair—and one that required the utmost concentration from all members of the family. It was much to her credit that she had begun the process all on her own far away from the usual haunts of those bent on marriage.
Lord Rokeby had fallen in love with her the instant he had laid eyes on her as she emerged from a shop in the village. He had stopped at the George and Dragon in Thornby for a bit of refreshment before continuing on to London and had been strolling idly down the High Street when he had nearly bumped into the most beautiful young woman he had ever encountered.
The modest blush that had risen to her cheeks and her demure reply, "It is nothing, sir. Think no more of it," to his profuse apologies only confirmed for him that her loveliness was matched by her gentle nature. He would not leave Buckinghamshire until he had presented himself to her bemused father and asked Lord Fareham permission to pay his addresses to his daughter.
Lady Elizabeth had hardly been able to believe her good fortune and she was extremely anxious that her appearance in society as the affianced wife of Lord Rokeby not be marred by the slightest murmur. It was this concern for his happiness 19
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
and reputation that had led the customarily mild-mannered young woman to issue an ultimatum to her younger sister. With a determined look in her gentle blue eyes and an obstinate set to her sweetly rounded chin. Lady Elizabeth had announced her intention of going to London: "And the entire household must come with me," she had concluded with a significant glance in Harriet's direction. Harriet had loathed the idea of leaving Buckinghamshire, her work among the poor there, and her quiet rides through the countryside, but knowing how important it was for her sister that they all be with her, she had acquiesced with creditable good grace. She had almost immediately regretted this move, however, for the moment they arrived in London her father, a longtime widower and reclusive at best, had retreated to the library with his books. Aunt Almeria had been called in to act as chaperon, and although she was a bluestocking of fearsome reputation who could ordinarily be counted upon for intelligent conversation and a complete lack of interest in the
ton,
she had thrown herself with such grim determination into her role that she had little time for anything or anyone except the bride to be. Thus Harriet was left with no one to talk to.
There was her brother Charlie to offer her company when he could, but as a captain in the First Guards living in barracks in Portman Street, he had his regimental duties to attend to and Harriet was left a good deal to her own devices. Accustomed to an active and productive life in Buckinghamshire, she had chafed at the enforced ease of London and longed for something interesting and worthwhile 20
My Wayward Lady
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to occupy her time and energy. Fortunately for her and her family such a situation had presented itself before she could fall into a truly outrageous scrape in her search for some way to be useful.
The whole family had been waiting for their carriage at the opera one evening when Harriet, idly surveying the crowd, had suddenly caught sight of a familiar face among the brilliantly dressed throng leaving the theater. "Bessie?" she gasped incredulously.
Harriet's sister, whose attention was caught by this outburst, followed Harriet's gaze. "Bessie who? I do not recall anyone among our acquaintance of that name." Harriet frowned and scrutinized the young woman in question more carefully. At first glance she had very nearly resembled the daughter of a local farmer in Thornby, the village near Fareham Park, but a closer inspection gave Harriet pause. Certainly the young woman possessed the same gold hair, corn-flower-blue eyes, and fair complexion that had set lads from miles around competing for her favors, but she lacked some of the softness of features and the open guileless countenance of the farmer's daughter. This woman had a knowing look in her eyes and wore a modish gown of grass-green crepe with the sophisticated air of one born in the metropolis.
As Harriet was debating all this in her mind, the young woman happened to glance in her direction. Her eyes widened and her full red lips formed an
0
of surprise as her eyes fell on Harriet. Quickly she turned away and began to head in the opposite direction, but it was too late.
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My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
Certain that her first impression had been the correct one and that the young woman was no other than Bessie Lopcombe, Harriet began to make her way purposefully toward her. It was extremely difficult for either of them to make any progress, the entrance being thick with operagoers, but Harriet was less hampered by the crowd than was her quarry and she soon caught up with her.
"Bessie!" She panted, grasping the girl's arm. "Whatever are you doing here?"
The girl's face wore a curiously unreadable expression and Harriet, realizing that she must sound rather rude, hastily continued. "I mean, I am delighted to see you, but rather surprised. I had not seen you this age around the village, but now here you are safe and sound and I am very pleased at that." She stepped back to survey the young woman. "And not only are you safe and sound, but quite dashing as well." This praise, however, provoked the oddest reaction from Bessie herself. Blushing she stammered, "Oh please. Lady Harriet, do not mention it to anyone. You must tell no one..." Then, catching hold of herself, she stopped, gulped, tossed her head, and continued in a tone of false bravado, "That is, I am very well, thank you, but my companions will be missing me. I must be going."