A Sisterly Regard (13 page)

* * * *

Lady Gifford, still distressed over her elder daughter's
willfulness and ill temper, and knowing the ordeal facing her younger
daughter, was determined to enlist her husband's aid, in keeping Chloe in
line. The girl had always minded him in the past, no matter how upset she
had been. She waited up for him.

He arrived a bit over an hour later and expressed his surprise at
finding her still awake.

"This could not wait until morning, George," she said, "I must
persuade you to take Chloe in hand. I can do no more, and indeed, am at
my wits' end." She sat up against her pillows.

"Nonsense, Isabella," he said as he removed his cravat. "She
behaved nicely tonight. I'm sure she has learned her lesson."

"Oh, George, you know she has not. She was furious that she
was not given the permission to waltz, particularly since Phaedra was. She
is probably in Phaedra's room at this moment, making the poor girl
miserable."

"You must not pay attention to their little tiffs, love. Chloe
would not do anything to distress her sister. Oh, I know she is high
spirited, just like you used to be, but she's a good girl and don't mean any
harm by it."

"George, she has not been a good girl since we arrived in
London. She has thrown tantrums at the least provocation and has made all
of us miserable."

"I won't believe that of Chloe. She has such a sunny
disposition."

"Only when you are present, love. When you are not, she is
willful, stubborn, temperamental, and selfish. She is rude to the servants,
and to Cousin Louisa she is more than rude, she is actively hostile. She
closes her mind to everything I tell her. She flirts outrageously with
everything in trousers."

When her husband paused in his disrobing to stare at her, she
took a deep breath and attempted to moderate her voice, which had
grown quite shrill. "Why, just this evening Robert Dervigne told me that
she had agreed to drive with him in the park and he was sure that I would
give permission for her to do so unchaperoned, for he drives a phaeton,
you know."

"That rake! He will drive my daughters nowhere. And what
were you doing, giving him permission to dance with them? I won't have
him about!"

"One cannot refuse an invitation to dance from a gentleman who
is accepted by the patronesses, you know that, George. I did tell him that
under no circumstances would he be allowed to take Chloe driving
without a chaperone. But you have changed the subject. Will you take
Chloe in hand?"

He came to sit beside her, slipping an arm around her waist and
pulling her close. "If you feel you cannot manage her, my love, I will.
Certainly. But I cannot be with her every moment. I have business to
conduct while we're in Town. Besides, a gentleman can't be a young lady's
chaperone, not everywhere."

"No, but when you can be there, I believe your presence will be
enough to keep her in line. Will you accompany us as much as possible for
the next few weeks, please?"

"If only to keep Dervigne at arm's length. I don't want him
hanging about the girls."

"That's all right, then. I feel so much better to know you will be
there to help me. Good night, love," she said. "Blow out the
candle."

A few moments later, her voice reached him in the dark.
"George, do you know a Viscount Wilderlake?"

"Hmm? What's that? I was half asleep."

"I asked if you were acquainted with Wilderlake."

"Don't think so. Knew his father." A yawn interrupted him.
"Man was a gamester, squandered his fortune, or at least what his father
before him had not lost at the tables. Left the son with pockets to let.
Why?"

Lady Gifford related their adventure on the journey to London.
"He seemed like quite a nice young man, but we have never been in the
way of meeting him. He did send a very nice note to thank us for our
trouble."

"Adding him to your list of possibles for the girls, eh? Well, as
long as he's not the wastrel his father was, that's not such a bad idea. Not
wealthy, but a good family."

"Her Grace sent him an invitation to the ball. I want you to
make sure we are introduced. He should do quite well for Phaedra, if he is
serious. If Chloe can avoid destroying her reputation with her escapades,
she will have no trouble finding a husband. But Phaedra is not appreciated
as she should be."

"You worry too much, wife. Now come here and let me kiss
you. I'm an old man and I need my sleep."

* * * *

Chloe continued to fulminate after returning to her own
bedchamber. She paced the floor and catalogued the acts of persecution
and neglect inflicted upon her by her family for a good half hour.
Eventually, her anger was exhausted and she reluctantly admitted that she
should have followed her mother's advice, at least until she had been
granted permission to waltz. But had she really disgraced herself? Of
course not. Mama was being overly cautious. How could one woman
influence the entire
ton
?

Convinced she would soon be forgiven any minor lapses of
behavior, Chloe thought again of her mother and sister's scoldings.
Perhaps she had allowed her temper to overrule her better judgment
tonight, she admitted. But it was so unfair! Without permission to waltz,
and at her very own ball, she would be miserable. What right did those
horrible, high-and-mighty old women at Almack's have to decide whether
or not Chloe Hazelbourne could waltz at a private party?

Thursday morning the denizens of London awoke to rain The
downpour continued intermittently throughout the day, accompanied by
blustery wind. Phaedra and Cousin Louisa braved the weather to visit Lady
Mary in the afternoon. The Duchess' house was in a state of confusion with
preparations for the ball Friday night. Phaedra offered their assistance and
it was quickly accepted. They were set to supervising the washing of the
crystal drops on the many wall sconces in the enormous ballroom while
Lady Mary helped with those from the great chandelier which hung over
the center of the room. All three were soon up to their elbows in soapsuds
as they took over the washing themselves in an attempt to hurry the chore
along. Servants were rushing everywhere, and tradesmen scurried in and
out bringing plants, statuary and even a small fountain to set up in the
ballroom, which was planned to appear as a sylvan glade.

As the two girls rested a moment while awaiting more crystal
drops, Phaedra looked about her. The ceiling was painted with elysian
scenes. On the two long walls were mirrors, divided into small panes so as
to resemble windows. Deep green velvet draperies enhanced the
resemblance and complimented the lighter green medallions on the ivory
silk wallpaper. Gazing critically about her at the decorations being
installed, she said, "Mary, I do believe that this will be an improvement
upon nature."

"How so?" Lady Mary asked.

"Why they are building a glade with an appearance of
naturalness, but without all those portions which make nature so uncouth.
Unless you are importing ants and worms and dirt and rocks. And snakes,
we must not forget the snakes."

"Oh, do you think we should include them?" Lady Mary said in a
serious voice.

"By all means. It would add to the authenticity of the
setting."

"What a delightful notion. We must immediately order some
snakes. They could be placed over there, under the musician's balcony. Or
would they be better near the fountain?"

"I think the fountain would be better. Then they would feel at
home. They prefer a moist setting, you know."

"Perhaps we could scatter ants over all the greenery, shaking
them out of their bag like pepper," Lady Mary proposed, "to add
spice."

Phaedra stifled a giggle. "Let me see, would that be better, or
should we place them in the bower which will enclose the refreshment
tables? That would enhance the impression of being on a picnic."

"What a marvelous idea. Ants. I shall add that to my list. And
what more do we need? Would slugs be appropriate?"

Phaedra pondered. "Slugs would be very appropriate if placed in
the foliage behind the row of chaperones' chairs." She tapped her chin with
a forefinger. "Do you know, it is too bad that the ballroom will be so well
lit. A few bats hanging from the chandelier might be a clever
touch."

"Absolutely not. I detest bats. But perhaps I could convince
Grandmama to send out for a dozen or two sparrows and perhaps some
robins. Birds add so much to an outdoor setting, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes, and they offer so much opportunity for amusement.
Just think what reaction there would be if one came and perched on the
rim of Lady Everingham's plate as she was nibbling at her sweetmeats."
They both dissolved in laughter.

Cousin Louisa called them to attention. "If you hope to get these
drops washed today, you had better get busy. Look here, the maids have
got so far ahead of you that they now have nothing to do."

Lady Mary told the grateful maids to rest a few moments. "I
would imagine their legs are tired, with all that running up and down the
ladders." She said as she immersed more crystal drops into soapy water.
"So much more difficult than stairs."

"You are kind. So many mistresses would have set the maids to
another task instead of allowing them to rest," Phaedra said.

"Kindness and practicality are frequently the same thing. The
maids will work better and faster for a short rest, and they will not be so
prone to drop the crystals."

Close to another hour passed before they washed the last
delicate crystal prism. As they watched the maids replacing them, Lady
Mary thanked Phaedra and Cousin Louisa for their help and apologized for
letting them work when they had come on a social call.

"Nonsense," Cousin Louisa said. "The ball is for Phaedra as
much as for you. It was the least we could do. Now, is there anything else
we can help you with, Lady Mary, before we depart?"

"No, there is not. This was my last housecleaning assignment."
She escorted them to the vestibule herself and let them out, repeating her
thanks.

Phaedra dreaded going home, because she feared a repetition of
the previous night's storms. Chloe had been quiet at breakfast and had not
spoken to her. She was pleasantly surprised, therefore, to find that her
sister's disposition had improved considerably through the course of the
afternoon. Several gentlemen, it seemed, had called and had filled her
head with flattery and poetical allusions. Lord Everingham had been
particularly attentive and had brought her flowers and sweets.

"I do not know whether it was his obvious devotion or his gifts
that succeeded in bringing her out of her temper, but which ever it was, I
am grateful," Lady Gifford observed in an aside to Cousin Louisa. Phaedra
pretended not to have heard it.

The following day was quiet, as Lady Gifford had refused all
invitations and had required the sisters to remain at home and rest in the
afternoon. They were to dine at the Duchess's mansion before the ball, in
a select group of about thirty. Preparations for the evening began in the
late afternoon, when the household staff began carrying hot water to all
four bedchambers.

The only crisis of the day was brought about by Chloe's attempt
to decide which of her four posies she should carry. Her mama settled the
question by commanding her to carry the flowers her father had sent her.
As the sisters joined their mother and Cousin Louisa in the foyer, Lord
Gifford came out of the parlor and looked them over.

"My word, such a bevy of beauties! I'm a lucky dog, I am, to be
escorting four such lovely ladies."

And indeed, they were all four in the best of looks. Lady Gifford
had chosen a gown of palest gray. Its drifting silk gauze overdress was shot
with silver and embroidered with silver oak leaves twining up the front of
the skirt and over the bodice. Her prematurely grey hair shone silver in
the candlelight, and a spray of diamonds holding two silver gray plumes in
her coiffure matched the gems sparkling at her throat and wrists.

Cousin Louisa, forsaking her usual dark colors, had clothed
herself in a silk gown of a color somewhere between lavender and gray.
Although somewhat out of date in style, it was nevertheless elegant, with
trimmings of jet beading. A matching turban was almost covered with jet
beads, sparkling dramatically.

Chloe's gown of palest rose muslin was unadorned except at
hem and sleeves, where pearls were sewn in a scroll pattern. The deeper
rose ribbon covering the high waistline was held at the front with a
matching rosette surrounded by leaves made of pearls. Her slippers
matched her gown, as did her gloves. More pearls encircled her throat and
were threaded through her brown hair, which was arranged
a la
grecque
. Her posy was blush roses in a silver holder. Excitement had
put color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eye.

Phaedra was as lovely as her sister. She was clad in a gown of
creamy white, a color very nearly matching her skin. The gauze overskirt
was a slightly darker shade of cream, shot with golden threads. A golden
rope encircled the high waist. Her jewelry was topaz set in a golden chain
about her throat and dangling at her ears. Her hair was pulled to the top of
her head by a golden comb and fell in ringlets down her back. The posy
she carried was of white roses, their petals delicately touched with golden
yellow, surrounded by feathery asparagus fern.

The Duchess's dinner party was unbalanced, for the ladies far
outnumbered the gentlemen. Her Grace offered no apology for the
uneven numbers. The ball was for the three girls, but this dinner party was
for her friends. Chloe found herself seated between Lady Hortense
Wimbledon and a rather deaf old gentleman. He examined her through his
quizzing glass and pronounced that she was a taking little thing before
addressing himself exclusively to his food. As Lady Hortense was far more
interested in conversing with the person on her other side, Chloe found
herself quite ignored. She could not decide whether to be outraged or
relieved. To her considerable surprise, she had little appetite. Instead a
cold lump of apprehension sat in her middle.