The Battling Bluestocking (27 page)

BOOK: The Battling Bluestocking
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“I can only say that I am astonished! Quite astonished, Miss Sutton-Drew.”

Startled nearly out of her wits by the indignant nasal voice, Jessica nearly retorted that she was likewise astonished, that she had never known herself to react in such a fashion in all her life. But then she realized that the speaker was the pretentious, gossipy Lady Jersey and quickly put a guard on her tongue, raising her eyebrows slightly instead.

“Yes, my lady?”

“That Susan Peel should be so blind to all sense of decency,” declared her ladyship in tones of strong disapproval. “I have never credited her with more than common sense, you know, but that she should inflict her presence upon us in such a way as this, with the cloud of criminality hovering above her as it does—why, it quite takes one’s breath away.”

“Not noticeably, madam,” Jessica retorted without thinking. Then, realizing it would do no good for her to incur Lady Jersey’s displeasure, she added hastily, “That is to say that everyone has been most kind, you know. I am persuaded that all of Aunt Susan’s friends must realize that she has done only what her conscience impels her to do.”

“That is as it may be,” was the haughty response, and Jessica noted the offended expression on her ladyship’s aging face with a touch of dismay. “But although that dreadful Prodmore woman behaves as though she has done nothing untoward, until this dreadful business is done, I should have expected Susan to behave more discreetly.”

“No, would you really, ma’am?” Jessica asked gently, her eyes glinting now with humor. “Would you truly expect my aunt to hide away in the country somewhere until this all blows over or until she is carted off to jail?”

Lady Jersey gasped. “To mention such a likelihood in civilized surroundings, Miss Sutton-Drew, is not the behavior of one who is at all nice in her ways.”

“Good evening, Frances,” said Lady Susan, just behind them. “You got away from me, Jessica, when I paused to speak with Emily Cowper.” She favored Lady Jersey with a long, measuring look. “You appear to be out of temper, Frances. Has this naughty puss been defending me too fervently to suit your taste?”

Lady Jersey drew herself firmly erect and looked down her nose. “I have merely been telling your niece,” she said, making the last two words sound as though she had got a bad taste in her mouth, “that you ought to have had the good sense to remain in seclusion until this unfortunate affair has been concluded. One way or another,” she added ominously.

“I see,” said Lady Susan in musing tones. “You would sweep me under the nearest carpet, would you? Well, Frances, I have never been one to hide from the truth or from unpleasantness. Nor have I ever been one to seek seclusion. I still have my friends, regardless of my present difficulties, and you may be assured that when this business is done, those are the friendships I shall cherish most. Shall we see who is here, Jessica, who might be trusted to offer us some pleasant conversation?”

Lady Jersey stood like a stock, but as far as Jessica could ascertain, she might as well have been so much ambient air for all the notice Lady Susan paid to her offended expression. Somewhat in a daze, Jessica once again fell in behind her aunt, as that lady swept on through the crush, creating a pathway before them by simple strength of personality. Lady Susan paused occasionally to speak briefly with a friend or to wait patiently while one young gentleman or another signed his name to Jessica’s dance card, but at last they reached the far side of the ballroom, where a number of comfortable chairs had been placed for those who had no particular wish to dance. Jessica sank gratefully into one of them, noting as she did that Lady Susan seemed to sigh with relief when she sat down beside her.

“All well, Aunt Susan?”

Twinkling blue eyes met her own, but there was a rueful note in her ladyship’s voice when she spoke. “It has been an interesting evening, has it not?”

Jessica chuckled, regaining her own strength of spirit. “It has, Aunt. It surely has. Do you intend to do this every night until the trial?”

“Not if it will distress you, dearest,” was the reply. The look in the blue eyes softened. “This affair has been difficult for you, has it not?”

Jessica nodded, feeling a burning of tears in her throat. “But it doesn’t matter, Aunt Susan. You are all that matters to me.”

“Not all, I think,” replied her ladyship cryptically, glancing at a point beyond Jessica’s right shoulder. Then she smiled and held out her gloved hand. “Good evening, sir. Thank you for sending your coach to fetch me this afternoon. It was most kind of you.”

“It would have been a deal kinder, my lady, to have come myself,” said Sir Brian in his quiet way, “but as I hope my coachman explained, there were other matters requiring my attention.”

“I understand, dear boy,” she said, her smile warming. “He said you were meeting with Sir Reginald Basingstoke. I trust the meeting proceeded advantageously?”

“We believe so. Several interesting facts have come to light, thanks to the unceasing labors of Mr. Wychbold. Lord Gordon knew what he was about when he acquired that gentleman’s services on your behalf.”

Jessica had been sitting silently, listening to them, but her nerves seemed to be all aquiver, making it seem as if some sort of electrical field had engulfed her. Every cell in her body seemed alive to his nearness. This time it was not a mere matter of a little warmth creeping through her. This time every fiber of her being seemed to be shouting at him to pay heed to her. It was difficult to believe he could not actually hear the signals her body was sending to him. Even the sound of the music and the constant drone of conversation, punctuated by girlish giggling and occasional bursts of masculine laughter, seemed to fade into the background, so that all she heard was the sound of his voice, interrupted from time to time, distressingly, by the lilting tones of Lady Susan’s as they discussed the matter of her upcoming trial.

Neither of them asked Jessica to contribute an opinion, and she was left to sit in musing silence until suddenly Sir Brian’s cool voice interrupted her reverie.

“Will you give me the pleasure of your company for this dance, Miss Jessica?”

15

A
S HE SWUNG JESSICA
into the circle of waltzers, Sir Brian said, “I was surprised to see the two of you here, though her ladyship seems to be weathering the stormy looks well enough. How are you faring?”

Jessica found it difficult to concentrate upon his words while his right hand pressed so authoritatively against the small of her back and his left held the gloved fingertips of her right. He was too close, and as always his nearness disturbed her composure. Indeed, his breath stirred the wispy tendrils of hair that curled about her right ear. When his silence indicated that he was awaiting her reply, she glanced up at him from under her lashes to see that he was watching her steadily.

She smiled. “I confess I have felt an urge from time to time to do something of a violent nature,” she said. “Some of our so-called friends have strained the limits of my patience nearly to breaking. I don’t know which is worse, the honey-sweet words one knows are spoken with the greatest insincerity or the cold looks from persons who have hitherto shown themselves to be well-disposed toward Aunt Susan’s reforming crusades.”

“I would never have advised either of you to expose yourself in such a fashion as this,” Sir Brian replied, his tone surprisingly grim.

Jessica raised an eyebrow. “If we—either of us—had been wise enough to seek such advice, do you mean?”

“I do, indeed.” The tone was even more grim.

“Well, but as it happens,” she pointed out gently, “you were not at hand to provide us with your opinion. Nor,” she added, unable to keep the expression in her eyes from challenging him, “did we believe we required advice upon this particular matter. Aunt Susan has no wish to hide in Hanover Square.”

“I said nothing of hiding; however, you would have done better to have remained quietly at home until next Wednesday’s business is concluded,” he retorted uncompromisingly. Then, before she could take up the gauntlet, he changed course, continuing in a gentler voice, “How are your young charges bearing up?”

“Very well, thank you,” Jessica told him, eyeing him warily, since she had expected him to say a good deal more. “Jeremy is a bundle of nervous anxiety and fevered excitement over the fact that his papa will be along shortly to collect him. And Albert is enjoying a pampered sort of leisure he has never known before.”

“I hope you are not spoiling that boy,” Sir Brian said sharply, “for it would be to do him a disservice. Even if we can bring Lady Susan off, Albert does not look forward to the sort of privileged future that Jeremy will enjoy.”

“No, of course not,” she agreed, “but Aunt does mean for him to go to school, you know.”

They discussed the two boys amiably then until the waltz ended, but when Sir Brian restored her to Lady Susan’s side, he paused a moment as though he would say something further to her. With a glance at her ladyship, who was deep in conversation with the mother of a hopeful debutante, he looked down at Jessica. She had not yet taken her seat.

“Would you like some refreshment?” he asked at last.

“No, thank you. If that is a boulanger the musicians are beginning, I have promised this dance.”

“I see. Look here, Jessica…” He broke off with a frustrated gesture.

“Sir?” She cocked her head, regarding him with bewilderment.

But he had seen her partner approaching, and he merely shook his head. Lady Susan turned just then with an apology for seeming to ignore him, and he responded lightly before taking polite leave of them both. He did not approach them again before they departed for Hanover Square.

In the next few days before the trial, Lady Susan saw to it that they were never idle. From Venetian breakfasts and al-fresco luncheons to afternoon loo parties and carriage rides in the park at the fashionable hour of five, their activity was so feverish that Jessica scarcely had a moment to concern herself with her private thoughts. She saw a good deal of Sir Brian, nevertheless. He stopped in to visit occasionally, but each time, although his attitude was perfectly cordial, and she even caught his eyes resting intently upon her from time to time, he gave no indication that he wished to have private speech with her, and his conversation was directed mainly to Lady Susan.

They also encountered him during the evenings, as Lady Susan continued her campaign to enjoy herself with as many as five or six engagements each night, for although Jessica had feared they might be ostracized, the truth of the matter was that there seemed to be more invitations than ever, as though they had become celebrities of some sort. Though certain scandalmongers were no doubt merely biding their time, awaiting further developments, for the most part the ladies and gentlemen of the
beau monde
had survived the initial shock of seeing Lady Susan in their midst again, and rapidly became accustomed to seeing her at all the most fashionable squeezes. And Sir Brian seemed to be everywhere.

In fact, they encountered him so often that Jessica might well have wondered if Sir Brian had appointed himself a sort of guardian to their well-being, had it not been for the fact that he rarely escorted them and seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly without specifically seeking out their company. Though he never neglected to ask her to dance, if dancing was offered, he likewise never requested the honor more than twice during a single evening, and if they met at some other entertainment, he was as often to be seen on the opposite side of the room as in her immediate I vicinity. And, Jessica noted, he was frequently accompanied by one or another of what seemed to her to be an unending source of beautiful damsels. When they attended the play, Sir Brian bowed from a neighboring box, where he was seated beside a veritable dasher of the first water, but he did not even avail himself of the opportunity to visit them during either interval. Though he disappeared for some moments during the first, causing Jessica to glance back from time to time to the curtained opening of Lady Susan’s box, he had only gone to procure some refreshment for himself and his companion. And throughout the second interval he could be seen to be leaning forward, attending carefully to something his companion was saying to him. Jessica’s teeth ground together audibly when she observed them.

It was no longer the least bit difficult to recognize the feeling that surged through her each time she saw Sir Brian smiling into another feminine face. Lowering though the knowledge was, Jessica knew full well that she was nearly being consumed by her jealousy. Though she attempted to remain calm and indifferent, her emotions seemed to have leapt beyond all power to control them. She knew she had looked forward with unwonted anticipation to Sir Brian’s return to London, but she had nearly succeeded in convincing herself that her anxiety was predominantly on Lady Susan’s behalf. Now, however, Lady Susan was as safe as she could be under the circumstances, and still Jessica found herself yearning for Sir Brian’s continued attention. Whenever they attended the same entertainment, she had to exert a nearly physical restraint in order to avoid watching him constantly. It was nearly as difficult to refrain from walking bang up to him and demanding that he speak to her. And when she caught his eye resting upon her, his expression had a tendency to stir her in much the same way that his touch might have done. Still his attitude remained only friendly. There was undeniable warmth in the dark brown eyes when they met her glances, even sometimes a touch of amusement, but he singled her out too infrequently for her taste, and his attitude when he did remained no more than casual.

When she received word early Friday evening that Viscount Woodbury, having arrived in London but realizing that they would have previous engagements, would call early the next morning to collect his son, she immediately sent word to Charles Street, inviting Sir Brian to call at the same time. However, when Bates stepped into the sunny morning room to announce the day’s first caller shortly after nine, it was not Sir Brian’s name that fell from his lips.

BOOK: The Battling Bluestocking
12.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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