The Regency (81 page)

‘You wish to marry my daughter?' she asked bluntly.

Wyndham's colour increased richly. 'Me? Good God, no, ma'am!' he spluttered, and then realised how rudely he had
spoken, and hastened to say, 'That is, Lady Flaminia is all excellence, of course! A most modest — intelligent — ah,
beautiful girl! But I'm not in the petticoat line, ma'am, as you
know. Never have been! Despair of m' parents!' He gave a
nervous laugh.

‘
Lord Wyndham, pray compose yourself and tell me what
it is you wish to propose,' Lucy said with diminishing
patience.

‘
Propose! Yes — that's the word. A proposition of marriage,
ma'am, between your excellent daughter, and my brother,
Lord Harvey Sale.’

Lucy stared. 'Lord Harvey? But I thought — that is, there
is some misunderstanding here, surely? Lord Harvey has been
paying attention to my niece, Miss Haworth. I was not aware
that he had any inclination towards my daughter.’

Wyndham wriggled in his chair. 'Let us be frank with each
other, ma'am! My brother is young and perhaps a little head
strong. Young people do not always know their own interest.
A match between him and Lady Flaminia would be highly
desirable, I believe, to all parties. It is by no means below
Lady Flaminia's touch. I don't mean to marry myself, ma'am,
so the reversion will come to my brother. He will be Marquis
of Penrith when the Guv'nor and I are gone. And for his part,
an earl's daughter with twenty thousand pounds is an
excellent catch, leaving aside Lady Flaminia's many personal
charms. It seems to me to be an arrangement of benefit to everyone — what do you say, ma'am?’

Lucy frowned. 'Let us be clear about this. Does your
brother wish to marry Lady Flaminia?’

Wyndham looked cunning. 'As the acting head of the
family, Lady Aylesbury, and soon to be head indeed, I can
say that I take the keenest interest in Harvey's matrimonial arrangements. My approval is necessary for him to marry at all, for without my approval, he will find himself quite without income, and his wife without establishment. My approval
 
would be most willingly bestowed upon a match between him
and Lady Flaminia. Indeed, I am so very eager for it, that the thought of his marrying anyone else would make me very unhappy indeed. I trust I make myself clear?'

‘
Quite clear,' Lucy said. 'I must have time to consider this.’

‘
Of course, ma'am. The details of settlements, I'm sure,
can be arranged to our common satisfaction.'

‘
Oh, I'm sure of that. That doesn't concern me.' She rose and pulled the bell, and Wyndham took his cue and rose too. ‘Does Lord Harvey know his own happiness?' Lucy asked as Hicks opened the door.

‘Not entirely, ma'am. That is, I have not told him how
fortunate he is. Of the — shall we say — negative side of the
affair, he is fully aware.’

He bowed and retreated, leaving Lucy with plenty to think
about.

*

Fanny and Hippolyta, with the addition of Miss Trotton and
Rosamund, were taking a little horseback exercise in the Park. Flaminia had stayed at home, for she disliked very
much to ride, and her figure did not appear to advantage atop
a horse. It was an arrangement very much to Fanny's taste,
for Miss Trotton's attention was largely claimed by Rosamund,
leaving the two elder girls much more liberty than if they
rode alone with Lucy. Fanny was aware that Hippolyta
looked very well on a horse, but she was learning to live with
Polly's beauty, for as the Season advanced, she had seen just
how much her cousin was admired — which was a great deal at
a distance, and much less close up. Polly's cool, grave manners
were not conciliating to young men on the flirt, and her
lack of dowry repulsed those who were seriously seeking a
wife. Only Lord Harvey Sale had remained a constant
admirer, but Fanny had long believed he meant nothing by it;
and indeed, for the last week, nothing had been seen of him.

Fanny, on the other hand, was everyone's favourite —
except the mamas with daughters on their hands. She was
pretty, lively, and very rich, and those who were not attracted
to her of their own free will, she pursued and captivated of hers. It was the best game in the world, she decided, to make
men in love with you; and her father, had he been in Town to
witness it, would have been perfectly satisfied, for she was the
most successful
débutante
of the Season, but had given her heart to no-one.

There was no-one, she felt, who was worthy of her. She
had brought Lord Somercott to the brink of an offer, but she
would not have taken him if he had offered, for he was only a baron, and she did not mean to wed below an earl. Other men had actually proposed, but they were mostly gazetted fortune-
hunters, and she was shrewd enough to recognise those
when they came in her way. She would be very rich when she
finally came into her property, but she didn't intend to
waste what was hers by paying off a husband's debts and mortgages.

The tributes she liked the best were the genuine sighs of
passion from men who knew they had no chance with her, but
could not help themselves. She actively encouraged one or
two of them — like Mr Paston and Sir Henry Hope — partly for the pleasure of being adored, and partly to annoy her less smitten but more eligible suitors.

It was, however, sometimes just a
little
dull not to be in
love. Occasionally she felt it, and just occasionally she admitted
to herself that she envied Polly her interesting situation.
She felt she would like to be a little in love: it would make the
chase so much more interesting. Of course she quite saw that
if one were very much in love, it could be inconvenient; and that if the love led to serious considerations of marriage, that
was an end of the game. No, just a mild involvement of the
heart — just enough to cause an interesting flutter when the
object came into the room — was what she wanted.

Polly, she thought, was probably too far in. She glanced
sideways at her cousin under the brim of her hat as they
walked their horses along the tan beside the carriageway, and
thought Polly was unusually silent, and looking a little pale.
Fretting over the defection of her lover, Fanny thought
impatiently.

‘
Is Harvey Sale out of Town, Polly?' she asked. 'I didn't see
him at the assembly last night. Or at Mrs Fairfax's rout on
Tuesday.'

‘
No, he wasn't there. I have no idea where he is,' she said
evenly. 'Perhaps he may be in the country.'

‘
I should have thought he'd tell you if he was going away.'
Fanny said with a private smile.

Polly raised her beautifully arched eyebrows. 'He is not
obliged to account to me for his movements,' she said, and
she turned her head away, but not quickly enough to prevent
Fanny from seeing the vexed flush, or the bite of the lips.
Much too far in! Fanny thought triumphantly; but then the
distant view of some horsemen distracted her attention.

‘
Let's canter on a little, Pol — come,' she said, and before Polly could answer, sent her mare on. Hippolyta was obliged
to follow suit, or Fanny would have been quite alone; as it
was, the two young women were soon well ahead of Miss
Trotton and Rosamund, though still within sight. Fanny
pulled up just enough short of the gentlemen to avoid the
charge of seeking them out, and a moment later they were touching their hats and gathering round. Fanny patted her
mare's neck, pushed her curls back over her shoulder, turned
her head this way and that, all in the most fetching manner.
Her new habit had the fashionable Hussar frogging, which looked well on her womanly figure, and her hat was one of
her own design, with a wide brim over which a long ostrich
feather curled, and under which she could give soft bewitching
glances at her admirers.

Two of them had red coats — Mr Beauchamp and Sir
Harry Henderson, on leave from the Peninsula, and more
than ready for a light flirtation with the delicious Miss
Morland.

‘
We will see you at Vauxhall on Friday, won't we, Miss
Morland?' Mr Beauchamp said. 'It is to be our last outing
before we're recalled to duty, ain't it, Harry? We want a little
fun and gig to remember when we are back on campaign,
starving on the Tagus.’

Fanny glanced over her shoulder to see how far away Miss
Trotton was, and gave them a dimpled smile. 'At Vauxhall?
How can you think it? I am told it is a very vulgar place, and
that the lower orders may enter it for a small sum and stare at
their betters.'

‘Vulgar! No, never say it!'

‘
It's the most delightful place in the world! You can't
imagine if you've never been there.'

‘
There are lovely groves, and coloured lights in the trees,
and one may stroll about and listen to music, and take a little
supper in one of the pavilions.'

‘
And be as private as one pleases,' Sir Harry added,
sotto
voce,
with a significant look.

Hippolyta, alarmed and disgusted, turned her head away.
Fanny gave her an exasperated look, and said to Mr
Beauchamp, 'Now, gentlemen, you see how you offend our
modesty. I'm sure one could not be
seen
at Vauxhall and
retain one's credit.’

Her slight emphasis made Beauchamp edge his horse
nearer. 'Many ladies, of course, go masked,' he murmured.
‘There is much more fun to be had in observing others, if one
is oneself unobserved.’

Fanny gave him a glance under her eyelashes, and then
said loudly, 'Ah, there is the good Miss Trotton and my
cousin! We must be riding on, gentlemen. I'm sure —’

She broke off, her eyes widening in surprise, as a gentle
man on foot paused on the path nearby and raised his hand to
his hat. In civilian clothes he looked quite different; but she
could not forget the glossy military whiskers, or the secretly-
gleaming eyes which were watching her with amusement, as if they knew exactly what she was up to. The military gentlemen
looked in astonishment as her cheeks first paled and then
glowed, never having seen Miss Morland discomposed, She
gave a graceful bow from the saddle, and was even more
disconcerted when he bowed in return, and then resumed his
stroll. Why did he not stop and speak? Piqued, Fanny stared
after him; and then straightened in the saddle, and as Miss
Trotton and Rosamund joined them, bid the gentlemen a
terse farewell and rode on, her eyes bright and her lips a little compressed.