Lady Lavinia's Match

But what about James? She adored him, knew she could rely on him without reservation; it did not matter what kind of a scrape she landed herself in, he would be there to haul her out of it. Even today, though he had not been present in the crowd, he had been ready and willing to defend her honour. But surely that did not mean he wanted her for a wife, or that she could view him as a potential husband?

She went into her room, flung her odd shoe on to the floor and sank on to her bed, trying to imagine James married to someone else: to see a woman’s figure beside him, holding his arm possessively, looking up at him with shining eyes and him returning that look as if no one else in the world existed for him. How she hated this imaginary wife of his! It was something she had not thought about before and this feeling was so strong it took her by surprise. ‘You are selfish beyond redemption,’ she scolded herself. ‘If anyone deserves to be happy, it is James.’

Not one to give way to the dismals for long, she left her bed and went to look in the long cheval mirror near the window. The sight which greeted her made her gasp and then laugh aloud.

She looked like a street urchin; her hair was in a tangle where the coils which had looked so shiny and neat when she left the house had become unpinned. Her light spotted gingham gown was decked with more than embroidery and ribbons; it was covered in dust and daubed with mud. The skirt was torn, too, and one white stocking was in tatters, revealing a leg which had several lengthy scratches. She did not know when that could have happened; she had no recollection of being hurt, except that her feet were very sore. Unlike an urchin’s, they were soft and unused to going without shoes.

Stripping off, she flung everything in the corner, then washed in the cold water which stood in an ewer on her washstand, finishing by sitting on a stool and paddling her feet in the bowl. It was such a hot day it was refreshing and soothing. After patting herself dry, she sat in her shift in front of her dressing table and picked up her hairbrush.

She had almost restored her hair to shining strands when Daisy appeared, hot, dusty and worried. ‘Oh, my lady, we thought we had lost you. We searched everywhere and all we found was your bonnet. Someone had trodden on it and it was ruined. When we came home and found you had not returned, we were really afraid. I was so relieved to see the Earl and know you were safe.’ She flung herself on her knees in front of Lavinia. ‘Please forgive me. Please don’t turn me off.’

‘Oh, Daisy, do get up, there’s a dear. No one is going to turn you off.’

Daisy scrambled to her feet. ‘Lord Corringham was very angry. He said it was no thanks to me that you were safe and well and, if I wanted to keep my job, I should look after you better and not leave you to be picked up by any Tom, Dick or Harry.’

‘Did he now?’ Lavinia said, with a smile. ‘And was Lord Wincote present when he said that?’

‘No, my lady. Why?’

‘No reason. Now, you are to take no notice of Lord Corringham. It is not his place to reprimand you and I do not blame you for what happened. We were separated, which could not be helped, so we will say no more about it. I do not think I shall even bother the Duchess with it.’

‘Oh, thank you, my lady.’

‘Now, go and clean yourself up and throw those clothes away.’ She indicated the pile in the corner. ‘Is Tom safely back?’

‘Yes, my lady. He brought your books back, except the one you were carrying. They are on the table in the hall.’

‘Good. I must remember to thank him.’

‘The Earl is downstairs, my lady. He said he wanted to speak to you.’

‘I’ve no doubt he means to ring a peal over me, but he will find himself mistaken if he thinks I will pay any attention,’ she said. ‘Daisy, pass me the blue silk pelisse-robe and a fresh pair of stockings. Then go to your room and rest for a while, you must be exhausted.’

Five minutes later, with the robe tied about the waist with a wide sash and her hair lying loose about her shoulders, she went down to the drawing room on the first floor. There, James stood with his back to the room, gazing out on to the parched garden.

He turned on hearing her enter and caught his breath at her creamy loveliness. Her green eyes sparkled and her hair shone from its recent brushing and hung in a curtain of rich chestnut brown, which contrasted beautifully with the pale blue of her gown. The wonder of it was that she seemed totally unaware of the devastating effect she had on her beholder.

‘Vinny, are you all right?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I am sorry I was angry with you.’

‘And I am sorrier still that you should have redirected that anger at Daisy, my lord. You have frightened the poor girl to death. She is under the impression you have the authority to turn her off.’

‘I apologise for that, but when I came upon her and that groom, they had their arms about each other and were laughing immoderately. I told them it was not a joke that their mistress was missing.’

‘I was not missing, James. It was an unfortunate incident, but no harm has been done and I would as lief forget the whole thing…’

‘By that, I suppose, you mean I am not to mention it to the Duchess.’

‘No, nor Papa. They both have too much to concern them at the moment without having to worry about me.’

He came towards her and, stopping in front of her, took both her hands in his own. ‘I will not say a word, my dear, but only if you promise not to go out alone until this business with the Queen is over.’

She looked down at their hands clasped together and wondered at how small her hands were in his and yet how tenderly he held them safe, just as he would always hold her safe from harm. He was a dear, dear man and she was lucky to be so protected. ‘And when do you suppose that will be?’

‘I don’t know. Until she tires of it, I suppose. Or she is divorced. Whichever it is, I hope it will be soon, for I am heartily sick of the way the population forgets her transgressions and hails her almost as a saviour of the country.’

‘And you are a cynic, James. But I promise not to go out without an adequate escort in future.’ She smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘There, will that do?’

He smiled ruefully, rubbing the spot her lips had touched. ‘It will have to. Now, unless you intend going out again today, I will take my leave of you.’

‘No, I shall stay in. I am going to read A Midsummer Night’s Dream right through and see if I can cast the main characters; by then Mama will be home. We are going to the play at Drury Lane tonight. You may join us in Papa’s box, if you wish.’

‘No, thank you. I have other fish to fry.’

‘Oh, and am I permitted to know her name?’

‘It is not a lady, it is business which cannot wait.’

‘Very well. But can you be here tomorrow afternoon? I want to give everyone their parts.’

‘I thought there were to be no rehearsals until after Lady Graham’s ball.’

‘It isn’t a rehearsal, simply a preliminary meeting, so that people know who they are to be and can begin to learn their words.’

‘I will be at your service,’ he said, describing a flourish with his right hand while bowing from the waist, making her laugh. ‘“By all the vows that ever men have broke/In number more than ever woman spoke/In that same place thou hast appointed me?/Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.”’

She laughed. ‘I did not know you were so familiar with the play, James, but those are Hermia’s lines.’

‘I once took the part when I was at school. There were no ladies and the boys had to take the female parts too.’

‘Which they did in Shakespeare’s day, but I cannot imagine you as a woman, James.’

‘No? I was young and slim then. A few petticoats and a wig and the transformation was effected. But I sincerely hope you had no such plans for me now. I am grown tall and broad-shouldered and have hairs on my chin. Besides, I can no longer speak in a falsetto voice.’ He attempted it as he spoke, making her laugh.

‘No, I will not embarrass you, James. You will come, won’t you?’

‘Of course,’ he said, bowing over her hand. ‘Until tomorrow.’

After he had gone, she sat on a sofa for a little while, thinking about him, the conversations they had had, things he had said, the offhand manner with which she treated him and the way he took it all in good humour. She pondered on the strange feeling of restlessness which assailed her when he was near, making her want to shout, to laugh, to pace about, even to quarrel with him. She had not been aware of it before but perhaps it signalled that she was now a woman and ought to be wary of too much familiarity with a man, even one she knew and trusted.

She stood up abruptly and hurried to the ballroom to begin on a new piece of scenery, telling herself she was being fanciful. She was still there when Frances returned.

‘Vinny, there you are. I have been looking for you.’

‘Sorry, Mama, I did not hear you come in.’ She stood back, paintbrush in hand. ‘What do you think of it?’

‘Very good. But you know, I begin to wonder if it is such a good idea. By all accounts, the bother over the Queen and the coronation has yet to be settled and no one can think or talk of anything else. I am quite worn out with it all and as for your papa…’

‘I know, Mama, but it will be resolved soon, surely?’

Frances sighed. ‘Let us hope so.’

They were interrupted by the butler who came to inform them that Lord Wincote was in the hall, enquiring if her Grace was at home.

‘What, again?’ the Duchess murmured, then, aloud, ‘Very well, John, show him into the drawing room. I will be there directly.’ She turned to Lavinia. ‘No doubt when he asked for me, he really meant you, my dear, so go and ask Daisy to put your hair up and come and join us.’

When Lavinia returned to the drawing room, she found Frances and Edmund ensconced over the tea cups. He sprang to his feet when she entered and sketched her a bow. ‘Lady Lavinia, your servant.’

‘Good afternoon, Lord Wincote. How do you do?’

‘Very well, my lady, and you?’

‘Excellently, my lord.’ She suppressed the urge to smile at this coded repartee as she sat down beside Frances and indicated, with a wave of her hand, that he should return to his seat. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure today?’

‘I have acquired a light carriage and pair, my lady, and came to beg the favour of your company on a short ride. With her Grace’s permission, of course.’ He turned to Frances. ‘Perhaps you might care to accompany us.’

The suggestion put the Duchess in a fix, as he well knew. Going with them would solve the problem of a chaperon, but to do so would certainly give the tabbies something to talk about; it would be tantamount to telling the world she approved of Lord Wincote and sanctioned his pursuit of her stepdaughter. And all that without the Duke having met the man. She could not take so much on her own shoulders.

‘Thank you, but I am otherwise engaged this afternoon,’ she said. ‘And I need Lady Lavinia’s company. Perhaps another time.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It was only a whim to ask her ladyship to be the first to try the phaeton. It is the latest model.’

‘A phaeton?’ Lavinia queried. ‘Is it a high-perch one like James’s?’

‘No, my lady, it is more modest than that and safer. Perhaps tomorrow?’

‘Fie, my lord!’ she said. ‘You will have the tattlemongers commenting on the frequency of your visits.’

He bowed. ‘I would not wish to make your ladyship the subject of gossip.’

‘But call tomorrow, by all means,’ she went on. ‘Indeed, I wish you would.’ His look of pleasure made her smile and the Duchess frown. ‘We are going to have a meeting to allocate the parts for the play.’

‘Oh.’ His disappointment that he was not to have her to himself was quickly stifled. ‘I shall look forward to it, my lady.’

Lavinia stood up, obliging him to get to his feet and bringing the interview to an end. He took his leave of both ladies and left, slightly subdued.

‘Vinny,’ the Duchess said after he was out of earshot and Lavinia had resumed her seat. ‘Do I detect a slight tease on your part?’

‘He is so serious, Mama, and so correct.’

‘Is that not good?’

‘Yes, but is it real?’

‘Possibly. But time will tell. I am glad you have not been entirely bowled over by him.’

‘Why, Mama?’

‘We know nothing of him. And until we do, you would be wise to hold back a little.’

‘I am not such a ninny as to fall for the first young man who pays me compliments, Mama, but he is so considerate and attentive. He is also very handsome, do you not think?’

‘Yes, I believe he is.’ Frances smiled. ‘Perhaps it would be as well to find out more about him before he makes his intentions any more obvious than they are already. What has he told you?’

‘Only that his older brother, who was James’s friend, died in tragic circumstances and he stayed at home with his grandfather to help run the estate. It is quite extensive, I believe.’

‘That, I suppose, is a start. It may be that the Duke knows more, though I hesitate to trouble him at the moment.’

‘Mama, there is no need for that. I should hate Lord Wincote to hear you were making enquiries and assume from that I was setting my cap at him. I am sure we shall learn more little by little as the Season progresses; after all, there will be rehearsals when we are bound to meet in company.’

‘Speaking of rehearsals, Vinny, exactly how many people have you invited here tomorrow?’

‘Only a handful. Lord Wincote, James, Lord Haverley, Sir Percy, Mr Martin Drew, Mr Benedict Willoughby and Constance. I have yet to find more ladies, but Lord Haverley said he would bring his daughters.’

‘You had better warn cook to prepare some refreshments for everyone.’ She stood up. ‘Now, it is nearly five o’clock and we had better go up and change for dinner. The Duke has promised to try and be home in time to escort us, otherwise he will meet us at the theatre.’

Lavinia left to obey. Daisy, once more her usual bright self, brushed and arranged her hair in a Grecian style that showed off her long neck and narrow shoulders, before helping her to dress in a rose-pink taffeta gown, trimmed with silk roses along the line of the high waist and around the hem. Slipping her still slightly sore feet into white slippers and picking up her fan, gloves and reticule, she made her way down to the drawing room, to find her father already dressed for dinner, discussing his day with the Duchess.

‘She positively refuses to budge,’ he was saying. ‘She will not leave the country for any consideration.’ Marcus Stanmore, third Duke of Loscoe, was, in his forties, still a very handsome man, but tonight he looked tired and his face bore signs of strain. ‘Brougham pretends he is speaking her words, but I fancy it is the other way about and she says what he tells her to.’

‘But Sir Henry Brougham is her attorney, is he not?’ Frances put in gently. ‘He is bound to advise her as to the proper course she should take.’

‘If I could believe that he was not trying to make political capital out of the poor woman, I might agree with you. It could bring the government down.’

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