The Awakening Of Miss Henley

‘Certainly a waste of intellect,’ Sara agreed.

‘Thank you, kind friends. Unfortunately, Mama is just the sort of female who would think Nullford better than no one. Enough about that dispiriting offer! Though I did need to vent my ire over that event, my other purpose in bringing you here was to suggest that we call upon Lady Lyndlington. Perhaps she will have some letter writing for us, to help redeem what has so far been a most trying day.’

Except for the interval with Lord Theo. That exchange had been as stimulating as it was disturbing.

Truly, she ought to try harder to avoid the man, though he had a disconcerting habit of occasionally turning up at the social engagements to which her mama insisted on dragging her. She should avoid him especially since some foolish feminine part of her seemed to respond intensely whenever he was near. The man represented a clear danger to her good sense—and self-control.

And now she was thinking of him again, after telling herself she wouldn’t.

Shaking her head with irritation, Emma said, ‘Shall we finish our tea and call on Lady Lyndlington?’

‘Yes, let’s,’ Olivia said. ‘All this talk of marriage makes me want to write angry letters, too.’

‘Indeed!’ Sara agreed with a smile. ‘Let’s hear it for a limit to child labour, votes for all—and a wider role in society for women!’

Though Emma and her schoolmates were fortunate enough to find Lady Lyndlington at home, they did not end up writing letters. The head of the Ladies’ Committee, the butler informed them, was already entertaining a guest—Mrs Christopher Lattimar, wife to the brother of Emma’s good friend Temperance.

Since that lady also happened to be the former Ellie Parmenter, who before her marriage had for years been the mistress of an older peer and was thus, despite her gentle birth, not accepted in society, the three had heard about, but never met, her.

‘Would you ladies like to join them, or would you prefer to call again later?’ the butler asked.

The ton might shun his wife, but Christopher Lattimar’s close circle of political friends and associates in Parliament had quietly welcomed her. Lady Maggie, wife of his good friend Giles Hadley, Viscount Lyndlington, had become something of a champion for her and one of the leading supporters of her school for girls.

It took only a moment for the three to exchange glances and a mutual nod. ‘We would be pleased to join them,’ Emma replied.

‘Ladies, so kind of you to stop by,’ Lady Maggie said, she and her guest rising as the butler ushered them in. ‘May I present you to my good friend, Mrs Christopher Lattimar.’

‘Only if they feel…comfortable meeting me,’ Mrs Lattimar said to Lady Lyndlington before turning to Emma and her friends. ‘I shouldn’t wish to cause you—or your families—any distress.’

Even if Emma had not already known the circumstances beyond her control that had thrust this lovely, dark-haired woman into a position of shame, the fact that she had Lady Lyndlington’s support would have influenced Emma towards her. Anyone who’d earned the respect and affection of Lady Maggie, daughter of an earl and wife of one of Parliament’s leading reform politicians, would have to be intelligent and interesting.

In addition to which, her friend Temperance also held her brother’s disgraced wife in high esteem.

‘On the contrary! We would be honoured,’ Olivia said, expressing the friends’ feelings exactly.

‘Excellent!’ Lady Lyndlington said. ‘Mrs Lattimar, may I present Miss Emma Henley, Miss Sara Standish and Miss Olivia Overton, all three hard workers—and enthusiastic letter writers—for my Committee. Ladies, my dear friend, Mrs Ellie Lattimar.’

‘I’m so pleased to meet you,’ Emma said as the ladies exchanged curtsies. ‘I’ve heard so much about you from Temperance. She admires you tremendously.’

‘As do we all,’ Lady Lyndlington said, pressing Mrs Lattimar’s hand.

‘You are sure we are not intruding?’ Sara asked. ‘We don’t mean to interrupt.’

‘Not at all,’ Lady Lyndlington assured her. ‘In fact, given the enthusiasm you have all displayed for our committee’s aims, I’ve been hoping to persuade you to work for another of our projects. As you may remember, Mrs Lattimar runs a school that provides education and training to indigent girls. It’s an endeavour I think you might also like to support.’

‘You rescue girls from the streets or from houses of ill repute, do you not, Mrs Lattimar?’ asked Olivia.

Though Lady Maggie’s eyes widened and Emma felt a pang of dismay at Olivia’s customary bluntness, Mrs Lattimar merely smiled. ‘Not to dress it up in fine linen, yes. Now, if we are to be friends who speak the truth plainly, shall we dispense with formality, as Lady Maggie tells me she prefers among members of her Committee? Please, call me “Ellie”.’

‘We’d be delighted to—Ellie,’ Emma replied. ‘How do you find the girls?’

‘Some find me, having heard murmurs about the school on the streets. I also maintain contacts with various houses, whose proprietresses I knew in my former…position. Sometimes, the girls I take in are daughters of working girls who don’t want to follow that life. More often, they are orphans with nowhere to go but the streets.’

‘There are few enough choices for girls, even honest ones who wish to go into service,’ Olivia said. ‘I imagine it’s almost impossible to escape a life on the streets—and eventual prostitution—when you have no resources at all.’

‘Very difficult,’ Ellie agreed.

‘What sort of training do you provide?’ Sara asked.

‘All the girls are taught basic reading, writing and simple maths. The rest of their day is devoted to mastering practical skills that will lead to future employment—needlework, cleaning tasks, cooking. Our goal is enable them to become honest, hard-working members of society, protected by their skills and experience from the threat of ending up back on the streets—or in the brothels.’

‘What inspiring work! How can we help?’ Emma asked.

‘Monetary contributions are always welcome. But if you wished to become personally involved, I would be happy to have you visit the school itself. Having genteel ladies describe to the students the duties domestic servants perform in an aristocratic household, stressing the skills that would impress a housekeeper interviewing them for a position, or make them valuable to their mistress after they are hired, would be very helpful.’

The three friends exchanged another look and a mutual nod. ‘We can certainly pledge to do that,’ Emma said. ‘Perhaps during our visits, we can find other ways to be useful.’

‘I would very much appreciate it,’ Ellie said. ‘But now, I must return to the school.’

‘I’m afraid I am due elsewhere soon as well,’ Lady Maggie said as the ladies all rose. ‘No time for letter writing today! But I will see you Tuesday morning, as usual?’

‘Of course,’ Olivia said. ‘We look forward to it.’

After bidding the others goodbye, the friends descended the front steps to await the hackney a footman had summoned.

‘What obstacles Ellie Lattimar has overcome,’ Olivia said.

‘Temperance told me her father virtually sold her to an older lord to pay off his debts,’ Emma confided.

‘Much as I sometimes feel…unappreciated, at least Mama cared enough to delegate my aunt to look after me,’ Sara said.

‘Imagine, being cast out at sixteen all alone, with nothing to protect you or secure your future but your own wits and determination,’ Olivia said, shaking her head in awe.

Emma seized both her friends’ hands and pressed them. ‘Thank heavens, whatever happens, we will always have each other, no matter how scandalously unconventional we become.’

The hackney arrived and they set off, planning where they would meet at the various upcoming social engagements as they dropped off first Sara in Upper Brook Street and then Olivia at Hanover Square.

After seeing her last friend to her door, Emma descended the stairs back to the street. No reason now to delay returning home—and facing the inevitable, and inevitably unpleasant, encounter with her mother.

Halting in mid-step, Emma surveyed the position of the sun. It was still mid-afternoon, she calculated. Her mother would only now be rising from her bed to drink her morning chocolate—and learn of her exasperating daughter’s latest folly. She probably had another hour or so before she would add tardiness to the tally of faults her mother would bring against her.

Deciding on the moment, she waved away the hackney and set off walking.

Chapter Four

A short distance away, having consumed a restorative beefsteak and ale at his club and won a few guineas at cards, Lord Theo descended the steps to St James’s Street in a contemplative mood. The afternoon being mild and sunny, he elected to walk while he thought about the best way to end the liaison with Lady Belinda without having to endure an explosion of tears, pleading, excuses and recriminations.

Dismissing the lady face-to-face might be kinder, but was almost guaranteed to set off the unpleasant encounter he wished to avoid. After his pointed escort of her, unwilling, back to her husband’s box, his coldly furious demeanour sufficient to convince even that volatile lady that he would not tolerate protest, she must know he was at least considering ending their association. Hopefully she wasn’t so confident of her beauty and allure that a bland note and a handsome parting gift would come as a shock.

Resolved to follow that course, he halted his perambulations around Mayfair and walked northwards up Bond Street, intending to get a hackney and go to Rundell and Bridges. He’d just turned on to Oxford Street when, to his surprise, he spotted a well-dressed female walking at a brisk pace in front of him. From her speed and determined gait, he was able even at a distance to identify the lady as Miss Emma Henley.

The happy chance of meeting her twice in one day set him smiling. But even as he picked up his pace to close the distance between them, caution warned that, despite his own and the lady’s disinclination towards marriage, it probably would not be prudent to be seen walking with her outside the park or shopping areas where he might reasonably have encountered her by chance.

He’d halted to heed the voice of self-preservation when he suddenly realised that, once again, Miss Henley appeared to be quite alone. She was on foot, so there couldn’t be a groom trotting somewhere behind her. Concerned, he surreptitiously began walking after her.

After a few more minutes spent trailing her, he had to conclude that there wasn’t a slower-paced maid or a dawdling footman following her, either.

For another few minutes, he debated the wisdom of approaching her. But concern for her safety soon outweighed the possible complication of having to come up with some glib excuse to explain away his presence to any member of society who might chance to spy him escorting her, unchaperoned, so far from her home.

The scene he observed as he drew closer justified that concern. A fat, red-faced fellow in a bulging waistcoat was loitering some distance ahead of Miss Henley, openly gawking as she approached. The man’s blatant scrutiny was definitely making her uneasy, for her pace had slowed and she was darting occasional, surreptitious glances at the man.

Indeed, so preoccupied was she with Greasy Waistcoat that Theo was able to draw quite near with her still unaware of his presence.

‘What, escaped your traces again, Miss Henley?’

Gasping, she whirled to face him. ‘Lord Theo!’ she cried, the alarm in her voice fading as she recognised him. ‘You gave me such a start!’

‘As you did me. I’ve followed for a few streets, enough to confirm, to my astonishment, that you are, in fact, walking without any escort at all. Outriding your groom in the park is one thing. Whatever are you doing in this part of town, bereft of footmen or even a maid to attend you?’

‘Shop girls and housemaids walk everywhere in London without anyone to attend them,’ she responded, aggravation and a touch of defiance in her tone.

‘Shop girls and housemaids are not dressed in a gown of fine silk topped by a fur-trimmed pelisse. In some streets in London, you could be robbed for the clothes you stand in—if not worse.’

Her eyes widening in alarm, she glanced towards still-loitering Greasy Waistcoat. Who, after Theo caught his gaze with a look of unmistakable warning, hastily turned and scurried off in the opposite direction. ‘Surely not here!’ she protested.

‘No, probably not here,’ Theo allowed. ‘But where are you going? Stray a few streets to the east and you could find yourself in trouble in short order.’

‘In my defence, I hadn’t intended to walk alone. After visiting Lady Lyndlington with some friends, I shared a hackney home with them. I’d just bade Miss Overton goodbye in Hanover Square when the idea struck me to make…one more visit before returning home. The day being fair, I decided to proceed on foot.’

‘Visiting Lady Lyndlington, were you? Attempting to avoid the confrontation with your mother a while longer?’ he guessed. ‘Or delaying your return home to put off having to deal with the consequences of that interview?’

She grimaced. ‘If you must know, I haven’t spoken with her yet. It’s a discussion I freely admit I’m not looking forward to. But it must take place, for I am determined to assert my independence, sooner rather than later. I suppose I could have returned to the Overtons and borrowed a maid from Olivia—but why should I? If I’m soon to be on my own, able to come and go freely as I please, why not begin now? It’s not as if Mrs Lattimar’s school on Dean Street is a dive in St Giles.’

‘Ah, so that’s where you are headed. Is supporting her endeavour to be part of the good works you mentioned?’

‘I certainly hope so. It’s a worthy cause.’

‘I applaud your intentions, but even an independent lady takes a care for her safety. Shop girls and maids often walk in pairs and few women wander about London entirely on their own.’

She sighed. ‘Much as it pains me to admit it, you may be right. This is the first time I’ve ever walked in the city entirely on my own. Perhaps I just never noticed before, while accompanied by a maid or footman, how men…stare at a woman. Which is so unfair! Men can walk unmolested wherever they please!’

‘Gentlemen walking alone are still cautious and generally carry a potentially lethal walking stick. A well-dressed female going about unattended is remarkable enough to invite scrutiny from a number of quarters, some of which are bound to be unsavoury.’

‘Perhaps it would be more prudent to take an escort,’ she conceded. ‘But admitting that doesn’t mean that I intend to waylay you! Surely I can get from here to Dean Street without incident. I promise I will send for a footman to accompany me home.’

‘I’m sure Mrs Lattimar would not allow you to leave the premises without an escort. But I can delay my task long enough to see you safely to her school.’

Somewhat to his surprise, she didn’t protest further. If the scrutiny of Greasy Waistcoat had shaken her enough to eliminate further argument, he could only be grateful.

But, being Emma Henley, the chastened mood didn’t last long. A moment later, she peeped back up at him, her unsettled look replaced by one of curious scrutiny. ‘A “task”, you said? The word implies a burden. I thought you adept at wriggling out of doing anything truly onerous.’

‘This task isn’t precisely “onerous”. Completing it does get me out of something that has become…annoying.’

The lingering anger beneath that innocuous word must have coloured his voice, for she raised her eyebrows and chuckled. ‘Headed to Rundell and Bridges to find just the right bijou to inform Lady Ballister of her congé?’

Both impressed and exasperated by her perspicacity, he said loftily, ‘A necessary task is best done as swiftly as possible.’

‘Putting you in quite a dilemma! What, exactly, to select? It must be something fine enough not to insult the lady, but not so opulent as to give her any hope that the gesture isn’t a final one.’

‘Does your lack of sensibility have no bounds?’ he shot back, surprised once again. ‘A gently bred virgin should know nothing about such matters!’

‘Oh, pish-tosh. Just because—alas—I am never likely to be in such a situation doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it.’

Meaning she never intended to take a lover—or would never behave badly enough to lose one? He found his gaze lingering on the full, sensual lips that so often uttered such unexpected comments…and heat built again within him. Would she make as unconventional and surprising a lover as she did a conversationalist?

Noticing the gaze he’d fixed on her mouth, she felt her fair skin colour. Self-consciously, she licked her lips.

The intensity of desire fired by that simple gesture sounded a warning in his distracted brain. This would never do! The longing she inspired could go nowhere.

Reining himself back in, he managed to summon an amused tone. ‘So, using your ever-active imagination, I suppose you have suggestions for a suitable gift?’

‘Ah, let me see.’ She put a finger to her chin in an exaggerated gesture of concentration. ‘Might I propose…a jewelled chatelaine?’

Though her comments were often unusual, that suggestion was so outrageous he burst out laughing. ‘An exquisitely worked piece on which she can hang the keys to her husband’s manse? Implying that she would do better to devote her talents to tending him?’

She grinned. ‘Do you think the recommendation might work?’

‘It might work to make her furious! So furious, I’m halfway tempted to try it. Though I’d risk having her come after me some time in the night, attempting to strangle me with it.’

‘A noble death, trying to lead a wayward lady back to the straight and moral path. But obviously too daring an undertaking for such a timid soul as you. I suppose it shall have to be a ring or necklace, then.’

He was trying to come up with a suitable reply to that jibe as she led him around the corner. ‘Well, here we are. The school is just down this street. You’ve delivered me safely and may proceed to discharge your dangerous task.’

‘A gentleman always sees a lady inside the front door of her destination,’ he replied, reluctant to leave her energising presence, as he seemed to be so often of late. No other female dared talk to him as she did, offering taunts instead of flattery. And few individuals of his acquaintance came up with as many startling, out-of-the-ordinary observations.

‘The school already boasts several influential patrons to assist in its good work, does it not?’ he asked, compelled to draw out their time together a bit longer.

‘Yes. In addition to Lady Lyndlington, it’s supported by her father, the Marquess of Witlow, and her aunt, the Dowager Countess Lady Sayleford, as well as Mrs Lattimar’s mother-in-law.’

‘Lady Vraux?’ He gave a derisive chuckle. ‘All upstanding members of society—save the last one.’

‘May I remind you, Lady Vraux is the mother of my dear friend Temperance. That dazzling Beauty whom you were once so eager to impress.’

‘And the mother is as dazzling as daughter.’

‘No doubt you dangled after her yourself, once upon a time. I understand doing so is almost a rite of passage for rich, cocksure, indolent young men just out of university. Given how confident you are of your “charm”, you must have been foremost in the pack.’

‘Not of that pack. I never pursue ladies who are unlikely to be caught and Lady Vraux, for all her reputation, was determinedly unattainable. But it’s probably not wise for you to advertise an acquaintance that would do the reputation of an innocent young maiden no good.’

‘Fortunately, Temperance was able to escape its taint.’ Miss Henley shook her head, a militant light in her eyes. ‘How ridiculous, to hold the daughter responsible for the sins of her mother! Or to imply that Temper would be equally promiscuous, simply because she so closely resembles that lady? To say nothing of the…mitigating circumstances behind the mother’s behaviour, or the fact that, had her sins been committed by a man, the consequences wouldn’t have been nearly as severe.’

Theo held up a hand. ‘I’m not about to debate society’s unequal treatment of men and women.’

‘Wise of you. In any event, I’m so weary of all the silly rules and conventions. I’m not sure how much longer I can put up with them.’

‘That will depend on the outcome of that oh-so-important discussion with your mama, won’t it? Do you really think you can win her over?’

Looking away from him, she flicked an invisible speck of lint from her sleeve. ‘Haven’t you got an errand to dispatch?’

Smiling at her attempt to rid herself of him rather than address a problem she clearly didn’t wish to think about, he said, ‘It’s not only my duty as a gentleman to see you come to no harm—at least, from anyone else—but I’m curious to see this school.’

She stopped short, her gaze scanning his face. He forced himself not to expand on that ill-advised parenthetical remark.

Fortunately for them both, after a moment, she turned away without questioning his meaning. Relieved, he took a ragged breath. Prudence dictated that, had she pressed him about it, he must make light of it—and he wasn’t sure he could make himself lie to her.

Ah, the wicked things he would like to do with her, were it ever possible!

‘At her school, girls are given a better chance in life,’ she said, following up on his previous remark. ‘Lucky them. When they finish their training, they will be able to do something useful.’

‘I wouldn’t be too envious. They may end up with respectable occupations, but their lives will be full of toil.’

‘At least they will own themselves.’

He shrugged. ‘Perhaps. If they marry, they will become as subject to their husband’s authority as any gently born woman.’

‘They just don’t bring a dowry for that husband to spend.’

‘True. Which means they may not be treated as kindly.’

Miss Henley fixed him with a derisive gaze. ‘I never heard of girl being treated more kindly because she brought her husband a handsome dowry. At least, not after the wedding.’

She had a point there. ‘Very well. I concede that there are disadvantages to marriage.’

‘Especially for a female.’

Shaking his head at her persistence, he said wryly, ‘You are the most bizarre woman. Most females think marriage confers protection, as well as status, upon them!’

‘Only if a woman is lucky enough to wed a superior man.’

‘There are a few such men in society, you know.’

She gave him a saucy look. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ve ever met any.’

He put a hand to his chest dramatically. ‘What, you would lump me in with Mr Null?’

‘Oh, no. You could find work as a coachman. If poor Mr Null ever lost his fortune, he’d be lucky to get a job mucking out stables. Well, I mustn’t keep you any longer.’ Stopping before the door to the school, she rapped on it, then turned to make him a curtsy. ‘Thank you for your kind escort, Lord Theo, and good day.’

Leaving him smiling as he bowed in response, she turned to walk in the door the porter opened for her.

Chapter Five

After dispatching Miss Henley to her destination, Theo found a hackney and went on to the jeweller’s, chuckling inwardly as he reviewed the assortment of glittering bijoux the clerk brought for his inspection. Though almost tempted to ask about a chatelaine, he chose instead a handsome pair of sapphire and diamond earrings which, he thought, fit the irrepressible Miss Henley’s description of being ‘fine enough not to insult the lady, but not so opulent as to inspire hope’.