An Improper Suitor (17 page)

Julia could not help but exclaim at her words. ‘Perhaps that is true, if you only wish to encourage the most trivial of suitors. But I’m certain it would not drive away any gentleman of integrity and
intelligence.’
She turned to include Lionel. ‘What is your opinion, Lord Thorwynn?’

His eyes met hers. ‘I believe any man of intelligence will be
delighted to encounter a lady with whom he can have an intelligent conversation,’ he said, seriously.

Then, perhaps realizing the conversation had taken too heavy a turn, he shrugged. ‘Although there is something to be said for levity. One does not want to be perpetually straining one’s thoughts,’ he added. ‘Which brings us back to this moment, under the sunshine, enjoying Gunter’s confections. I would not want to waste such a pleasant circumstance discussing such solemn topics.’

Julia turned away from him, not wanting him to see her
disappointment.
She had been on the verge of revising her opinion of him. She was beginning to feel there was a different side to him. But instead he seemed intent on avoiding any serious topics, and to steer the conversation towards the trifling.

She did not participate in the light banter between him and Amelia. And when he let the two ladies down at her townhouse a half-hour later, she parted with him with the barest civility.

Amelia maintained a steady stream of cheerful chatter until after the tea was served and they were alone in the parlour.

The next moment the illusion of high spirits disappeared as a teardrop rolled down the girl’s cheek. As Julia shot her a searching look, she noticed that shadows marred the corners of the younger girl’s eyes, and a couple of small pimples stained her skin. All was not well in the Neville household. She chastised herself for not realizing it earlier.

‘You must tell me about it,’ she said, gently. ‘There’s clearly
something
wrong.’

Amelia did not dissolve into tears, as Julia expected. She held back, and Julia marvelled at how quickly she had learned the ways of Town.

‘It’s Papa,’ she said, her voice distant.

Not the marriage with the old ogre, she hoped. ‘Surely he’s not forcing you—’

‘Oh, no!’ said Amelia. ‘No, that isn’t it.’ She stopped, struggling with herself, then decided to take Julia into her confidence.

‘Do you remember I told you there was a gentleman who had caught my interest?’ Julia nodded, remembering something like that from Amelia’s last visit.

‘Well, he came to our house, to ask my father’s permission to marry me.’ She looked almost happy; Julia allowed herself to be happy for her, too.

She looked down at her hands. ‘I know we have not known each other long, but I feel a strange affinity with him. As if I had always known him.’

She nodded encouragement.

‘It may have been hasty on his part, to speak to my father so soon.’ She cast Julia a quick glance, to try and gauge her reaction.

‘But at least it shows that his intentions are honourable,’ said Julia.

‘That’s what I thought. But Papa didn’t.’

Here her lips began to tremble. She pressed them close together to control them. Then she gave a little sob and buried her face in her hands. Julia waited until she had recovered enough to continue. ‘It was
terrible!
I listened at the keyhole, you see. I know it wasn’t the right thing to do,’ she said, ‘but I was so
excited
and I wanted to know everything.’ She paused and shook her head. ‘As it turned out, it was a good thing I did listen, because otherwise I wouldn’t have known what happened.’

She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose, although she was not really crying.

‘Papa was very angry. He told him he would not consider him as a son-in-law for one instant. That he was in the River Tick and would soon be in a debtor’s prison. That he had heard other unsavoury gossip about him.’ Amelia’s voice trembled. Julia patted her awkwardly on the hand. ‘Papa was so
cruel,
Julia. I did not think it of him.’

‘Did you consider,’ said Julia gently, ‘that perhaps your young man could be a fortune hunter?’

‘He’s not really a young man,’ said Amelia. ‘And no, I don’t think he’s a fortune hunter
at all.
Why will no one believe that he could
actually
love me for myself? Is there anything wrong with me?’

Julia looked at her perfect little profile and answered honestly. ‘Nothing’s wrong with you. On the contrary, you’re a remarkably
beautiful
young lady. But there are plenty of merciless fortune hunters out there who would be delighted to have both at their disposal – a
beautiful
young woman, and a fortune that they can dispose of as they please.’

‘Well he’s not like that. I know he loves me. The way he looks at me makes it clear.’

There was no point in pursuing that any further.

‘Besides, his father is an
earl
, which makes him a very good catch, considering my father is only a baron. And given all the fuss my mother has made over Lord Thorwynn, who’s an earl as well, you’d think they’d be happy to have me marry into a title.’

‘Perhaps your father’s still hoping you’ll marry Lord Frugford.’

‘Well, I
won’t,
and I told him so. I said I would not marry him even if they carried me to him by force, which I didn’t think they would, because it would look rather odd, wouldn’t it?’

There were many ways to force a young girl to consent. Julia said nothing.

‘Anyway, then my father came and jerked the door open and I had to hide quickly under the stairway. I heard footsteps and before I knew it Lord Neave was gone.’

The name startled her into instant awareness.

‘Lord Neave?’ said Julia, incredulously.

‘Oh, I didn’t
intend
to tell you, but now that you know I suppose it does not matter.’

‘But Amelia! You don’t mean Lord Neave is your suitor?’

She stared at Julia as if she had two heads. ‘Of course. And I don’t see why you’re looking so shocked. I told you before that I thought him attractive.’

Julia shrugged. There was little anyone could say to convince Amelia that Lord Neave was far from desirable. She had scarcely listened herself when she had been warned about him. And she was not just turned seventeen, entering Society for the first time.

‘I know it will do no good to say so,’ she said, ‘but I should warn you that Lord Neave is not what he appears.’ She was condemned to repeat Lionel’s words, with as little effect.

She stood up impatiently. ‘Oh, don’t tell me now you’re siding with Papa! I thought better of you. I thought you are my friend.’

‘I
am
your friend,’ said Julia. The last thing she wanted to happen was for Amelia to feel abandoned by everyone. She would then fly into his arms, and the situation would be a great deal worse. ‘Don’t be too hasty, that’s all,’ she said. ‘Give yourself time to get to know him.’

Amelia cheered up. ‘Yes. That’s what I’ll do. And I’ll prove to my father and to all of you that he is a good person and worthy of me.’

She nodded. If she knew him long enough, she would know what he was capable of. ‘I applaud your resolve,’ she said, hoping she did not sound false. ‘And I hope you’ll continue to confide in me.’

Amelia nodded. ‘I will,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m so glad I fell off the horse at your feet, otherwise I would have never had you as a friend.’

They embraced quickly, and Amelia took her leave, a mix of
determination
and hope on her face.

Her departure left Julia pacing, pondering how to solve her dilemma. Night came and she still could not find a solution. She could not think of a way to keep Amelia away from Neave without
betraying
her friend’s confidence.

But when she blew out the candle that night, she did not think of Amelia. Instead, in a state between sleep and darkness, the marbles rose up before her. Great testaments to the male body, sinews and muscles in relief, the best of Greek athletes and fighters. And she marvelled that she had never really seen them before.

‘For Heaven’s sake, Mama. It’s all very well to arrange a picnic on Box Hill, and to invite a handful of houseguests, but I don’t mean to attend. My plans are already made.’

‘But I
need
you,’ said his mama, draped over her favourite seat. ‘You can’t expect me to oversee such a complicated affair, when you know how fragile my nerves are.’

‘You should have thought of it before you issued the invitations,’ said Lionel, heartlessly.

‘I was counting on your support,’ said Lady Thorwynn, eyes
plaintive
.

‘You could have consulted me,’ replied Lionel, mildly reproving.

‘Well,’ she said, stirring in her seat, ‘it’s no use telling me now I should have consulted you when all the invitations have already been issued. Everything’s set up and it cannot be changed.’

‘If everything’s set up, I fail to see why you need me,’ he said, implacably.

‘Oh, stop it, you odious boy! You’ll be sending me into nervous spasms.’

That was always her way of ending a conversation which was uncomfortable.

He wanted to go to the picnic. He wanted it very much indeed. He was planning to corner Julia and have that long conversation he had sought for a while. She would not escape him this time.

What he did not want was to spend two whole two nights under Mama’s roof, running her errands, and participating in her frenzied preparations.

She knew very well she did not really want him to take charge of the preparations. She simply needed him to prop her up while she worked herself into a state.

On the other hand, the prospect of spending some time under the same roof as Julia had its appeal. In fact, the more he considered it, the more appealing it seemed.

He grinned at his mother. She pined on the sofa and looked
hopelessly
fragile.

‘You know I don’t like to be called odious, Mama. And you can keep that fragile act for someone else.’

She sat up, frowning in protest. ‘How—?’

‘Hush,’ he said, putting a finger to his lips. ‘You’re as strong as an ox.’

‘I hardly think—’

‘And you know I know it.’

She smiled and reached out her hand to him. He came and took it, smiling down at her.

‘So are you coming?’ she said, smiling back.

He wrinkled his nose in mock distaste. ‘I suppose I have no choice, do I?’

‘You do not,’ she said, a satisfied smile on her face.

Once again, Julia entered Lady Thorwynn’s residence, though not the same one. It was growing to be a habit. Lady Gragspur was there, having travelled from town earlier with Lady Thorwynn. She
indicated
the seat closest to her for Lady Bullfinch to join her, and nodded imperiously when Julia curtseyed.

Lady Thorwynn welcomed Julia and her grandmother from her sofa, which resembled the one at her townhouse closely, except for the colour. This one was Pomona green.

‘I hope you don’t mind if I don’t get up to greet you,’ she said, waving a wilted hand in the air.

‘Of course not,’ said Lady Bullfinch. ‘You just stay where you are and rest. No doubt you have exhausted yourself with all the
preparations
.’

Lady Thorwynn wiped her arm across her face and sighed. ‘If only I had more energy,’ she murmured, sighing deeply. ‘But please, do sit
down. The journey must have tired you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Lady Bullfinch, taking the seat indicated by Lady Gragspur. ‘The ride was very enjoyable, in fact. We opened all the windows the moment we left Town. The fresh country air was remarkably invigorating.’

Lady Thorwynn shuddered. ‘I’m certainly glad, then, that I came in my own carriage. I dislike draughts above all else,’ she said. ‘I hope you do not take a chill,’ she said, then added ominously, ‘People have
died
of colds they contracted riding in draughty carriages.’ She rang the bell vigorously. ‘I will ask Mary to prepare you both a tonic. It will help ward off a cold.’

‘For heaven’s sake, Mama, no one here is about to take a chill. Must you force those teas down everyone’s throats?’

He stood in the doorway, dressed immaculately. His black hair had that perfect tousled look that can only be achieved with pomade. His neckcloth was elaborately tied in an Oriental, his bottle-green coat draped him like a glove, and his boots gleamed. Julia’s eyes followed the sharp outline of his thigh muscles in the tight cream nankeen trousers.

She caught herself staring. Quickly, she averted her eyes, hoping no one had noticed.

‘And must you force your vulgar expressions on my guests?’ said his mother, but she smiled.

‘I do indeed seem to have forgotten my manners,’ said Lionel, contritely. He bowed to all the ladies present, then moved to greet them one by one.

‘Lady Bullfinch,’ he said, bowing over her hand and grinning like a naughty schoolboy. ‘Charmed to see you under our roof again.’

‘Hrmph,’ said Lady Gragspur. ‘Don’t be taken in by that rascal’s charm.’

Lady Bullfinch, however, returned his grin as he took her hand. ‘How can you say that, Evelyn? Nothing wrong with charm, in my view. Why, if I was just a few years younger, I would lead him a merry dance.’

‘Indeed, Lady Bullfinch, if you put your mind to it, you could lead me a merry dance right now,’ said Lionel, gallantly.

She laughed. Lady Gragspur hrumphed again.

He approached Julia. She gave him her hand. But when he touched it, she almost flinched. The warmth of that contact seemed to spread throughout her body.

‘Miss Swifton,’ he said. Her name was a caress, his voice velvet. She wanted to close her eyes and … swoon. And he still held her hand.

He was holding her hand far too long. Intensely aware of his touch, she let herself ride the sensations that washed over her. She realized suddenly that everyone in the room was waiting for her to say
something
. Hauling herself back into social interaction took tremendous effort. ‘So we meet again, Lord Thorwynn,’ she said, the only thing she could think of.

He still held her hand. She tugged at it, as subtly as possible. Yet he did not let go.

The corner of his mouth curled. Of course he found her behaviour amusing. Who wouldn’t? Meanwhile, she stared at his mouth,
fascinated
by the way that small curl created a tiny dimple.

Her hand was still in his. She tugged harder, at the risk of seeming undignified. He let it slide reluctantly out of his reach.
No doubt he uses this method with every woman he seduces.
But it no longer mattered to her. She felt an overwhelming urge to take his hand again and draw it to her mouth, to kiss the tips of his fingers, to lick his palm….

‘I’m aware I’m the bane of your existence,’ he said. It took Julia a moment to realize he was answering her comment.
What’s happening to me?
‘I shall endeavour to stay out of your way, if that is your wish.’ But he was smiling, as he stepped away.

The door opened and Lord Benedict walked in. He was such a welcome sight she could not stifle her cry of pleasure. ‘Lord Benedict, I did not know that you would be here as well.’

‘I would not miss it for the world,’ he said, ‘when there are so many charming ladies gathered here.’

There were general nods and greetings as he acknowledged
everyone
and sat down on the chair closest to her.

Thorwynn did not sit. He stood, slouching elegantly against the wall, under an archway of green trellis wallpaper. A trick of light made him look as if he was emerging from some enchanted kingdom beyond, stepping into their world with reluctance. She had never
thought of him as particularly Byronic, but in this instant she could see the Corsair in him, dark and arrogant.

Then it was gone.

Certainly his expression was not enchanted. A cynical expression hardened his features as he watched Lord Benedict steer the
conversation
skilfully to Lady Bullfinch’s and Lady Gragspur’s favourite topic: the past. Coming to life, they recounted a tale about an acquaintance of theirs, whose escapades were notorious in their days.

‘It is difficult for me to believe that girls were so free with their favours in your days. I wonder sometimes if it does not appear so in retrospect,’ said Lady Thorwynn. ‘Although my mama always said it was so.’

‘Your dear mama had much to answer for,’ said Lady Bullfinch. ‘I can tell you a thing or two about her—’

Fortunately, they never learned about Lady Thorwynn’s mother’s indiscretions. The door opened and the butler announced Lord Yarfolk.

He came tripping in, looking magnificent in a purple frock coat with a contrasting rich golden waistcoat and a thick border of
intricate
lace on his sleeves.

‘My dear ladies,’ he said, bowing elaborately. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said gravely. He took out his snuff box, flicked the lid open, and inhaled deeply. Then he shut it and stepped forward delicately, seating himself on the edge of a sofa chair next to Lady Bullfinch.

‘I hope you are entirely recovered from your indisposition, Lady Bullfinch,’ he said, solicitously.

‘Oh, yes, indeed,’ she said. ‘It was merely a passing weakness.’

‘I am glad to hear of it,’ said Lord Yarfolk, with concern.

It seemed her grandmother had a new admirer.

How did I turn out to be such a prude?
She stared at herself in the mirror, noting the disapproving tightness around her mouth, the faint traces of a frown between her brows.
All the more remarkable since I grew up around Grannie
. She was so far from prudish she would shame the most jaded rake.

Julia had certainly been acutely embarrassed earlier. Lord Yarfolk’s
appearance had prompted the three older people to launch into a series of reminiscences. These included some ribald tales which left Julia uncertain where to look. The gentlemen, of course, took them in their stride. Eventually, recognizing that Lady Thorwynn shared her embarrassment, Julia moved and sat next to her, and they promptly struck up their own conversation, one that was comfortably proper.

She had never envied her grandmother the experiences she had. In fact, she had never even comprehended the appeal of such
experiences
. But for some reason, today she saw her world differently. There was a balance to it, an earthy pursuit of stimulation, whether mental or physical. She did not hesitate. She plunged in.

Their lives could not be more different, as different as water from rock.
I always wanted to be safe
. She preferred solid rock over the uncertainties of a sea voyage fraught with perils and uncertainties. Until today, she was unaware that in her dogged insistence on the rational, she had narrowed her world so completely she had denied herself the opportunity to discover new horizons.

No wonder Amelia sees me as an old maid. Because that is exactly what I have become. I have been so worried that I would repeat the mistakes of my mother that I have never really lived my own life.

She reflected on what she had done so far. She had not been
inactive
. She had engaged herself in many pursuits. But somehow they rang hollow. When she was her grandmother’s age, what stories would she have to tell? How would she remember her past? The fact was, nothing much had happened to her. She could recount tales
written
by others, but she had none of her own. She viewed her image in the mirror, viewed those calm brown-green eyes, the sedate sweep of her brown hair, the straight line of her nose.

It was not too late to change. She would never live her life as Grannie did, of course. Expectations were different in her time from now. But she could at least do something that she could remember, for herself, many years from now.
I need to know what it is to experience physical pleasure, for once, before I settle into my serene marriage with someone from the museums.

At the very least she would experience the satisfaction of having stepped off the rock, and allowed herself the chance to flounder.

The day of the picnic dawned bright and clear, with a cloudless sky signalling the heavens’ approval. Lionel’s spirits soared. The picnic would be a success.

Mama naturally took credit for arranging the picnic on this day. ‘I can always tell what the weather will be like. Rheumatism, you know. My knees begin to ache three days before the rain comes. So when my knees did not give me trouble, I knew the weather would be favourable.’

Lionel was in far too good a mood to point out that she had planned the picnic more than three days ago, though he was tempted.

The rest of their group arrived as planned. Lady Talbrook, who had been unable to come the night before due to an engagement, arrived with her son, Lord Talbrook and her daughter, Miranda Flint, a pretty girl of around sixteen who had been away at finishing school, and was planning to come out in the coming year. And they had brought Miss Neville with them.

The preparations were not marred by any mishaps, except when the carriages began to line up.

Lady Bullfinch, stepping out to find the weather was comfortably warm, refused to go by carriage. ‘You don’t think we’re going to be cooped up in carriage on such a fine day, do you? Julia and I will ride.’

‘But what if it rains?’ wailed Lady Thorwynn.

‘If it rains, we will naturally avail ourselves of the carriage,’ replied Lady Bullfinch.

This seemed to reassure Lady Thorwynn, for she agreed to the scheme, though reluctantly. She took Lionel aside, however. ‘I just hope they don’t fall off their horses. With such a steep incline, you know, a fall could be fatal,’ she said.

‘Mama, I don’t think it likely that either of them will fall. They are excellent horsewomen.’

‘Yes, that is true,’ she said, brightening considerably. Her voice fell into a conspiratorial whisper. ‘I’m certainly glad Amelia is not
determined
to travel up to Box Hill on horseback,’ said Lionel’s mama. ‘She certainly cannot keep her seat.’

He bit back a remark that a single fall off a frightened steed did not render her a poor rider. But it was useless to argue.