Before the Season Ends (20 page)

When they reached Pall Mall they joined a crush of carriages. It took minutes of crawling through traffic to draw up beneath the
portico but at least Ariana had been able to take a leisurely view of her first glimpse of Carlton House. The multitude of carriage lamps and the bright flambeaux of the palace lit up the night. She could easily see the imposing structure she had only seen in drawings before. There was the distinct centre and two wings which were visible from the street. Along the front, the portico was lined with tall Corinthian columns. It certainly did fit the Regent as a man of great dignity despite his many reported failings in character.

After Mr. Mornay had handed her down from the coach, she was suddenly struck by a fit of nerves. She confided, holding tightly to his arm, “I am suddenly distressed, Mr. Mornay!”

His face took on a bland look, as if he thought,
This is what comes of escorting a debutante to Carlton House!

“Oh? In what manner?”

She instinctively moved closer to him, not wanting to be overheard by anyone else. The gray-black eyes were intently upon her.

“I cannot tell. I fear I am going to be—”

He thought she was going to say, “ill.”

“Shy.”

He shook his head. “Did you say, shy?”

“Yes.”

He put his head back and surveyed her with that little smile playing about his mouth.

“Don’t worry. I will protect you from the countess, and from the prince!”

“But I may be shy with everyone!”

“I should think you would, this being your first encounter with a member of the royal family. Do not even think of it—Prinny has pretensions only for himself, I assure you.” They passed through the row of columns lining the entrance. “Try to enjoy your surroundings, one or two of the guests—if possible, which is doubtful.”

Did she see his eyes sparkle when he spoke? She had; he really was laughing at people most of the time!

“And do sample the refreshments, which will be excellent.”

Ariana was not reassured and clung to his arm. “Will you be nearby? All night?”

Something in the tone of her voice made him stop and look down at her, startled. He was used to women wanting him nearby. They wanted to be seen with him, they wanted prestige, they hoped to win his affection, or, failing that, at least his fortune. But here was Ariana Forsythe, young and beautiful, earnest and appealing, wanting him nearby for safety. For security. It was an entirely unfamiliar feeling.

Awkwardly, he patted the hand clinging to his arm. He was not accustomed to showing affection. “I shall endeavour to stay near you. There may be inevitable separations, but I will see they are not prolonged.”

The Regent enjoyed entertainments of a large scale. In addition to carefully chosen regulars at his table, therefore, recent acquaintances, members of Parliament or his government, a few military men, royalty-seekers and more, could often be found gracing his presence as well. This evening was no exception, and by the time Ariana and her escort had arrived, the interior hall of Carlton House was teeming with the social elite.

Inside the magnificent high-ceilinged hall, Mr. Mornay ignored those hailing him and led Ariana to a velvet-cushioned bench and apologized for the necessity of leaving her only to contrive the introduction. With a polite bow he turned to go, but suddenly a jovial crowd came swarming from all directions as if on cue. They were surrounded by scads of well-dressed upper-class personages in moments. When Lord Horatio stood forth and then another man stepped from behind others and came forward—a man she immediately recognized as the prince—she was too confused by the suddenness of it all to even think of being nervous.

Ariana recognized him not only because of the numerous likenesses of him she had seen in the past, but because he was clad loudly
in a shimmering green silken jacket and trousers, with a voluminous matching cape in shot silk. He sported a showy cravat and jeweled rings on his hands, all of which spoke volumes about his status in society. He made a large figure, helped not in the least by the cape, which enrobed him. But none of the reports Ariana had heard regarding the luxury and elegance of the palace or the prince had been exaggerated. He was not the most handsome presence in the place, but he certainly commanded a very proper awe in his carriage and bearing.

“Ho, ’tis true!” He had a loud voice, and came rapidly up to them. “Now this
is
a singular event! Mornay, you devil, you astonish me!” He turned to Lord Horatio. “Horatio, my sincerest apology; our friend has indeed brought a lady to my house!” He sounded delighted. He shook Mr. Mornay’s hand smilingly. “Congratulations, old man! This is divine. Introduce her to me!”

Mr. Mornay spoke something into the prince’s ear, and the Regent reacted in a startled manner. “Oh?” He turned and hissed at the nearest footman. “Get this beastly cape off of me!”

To Mr. Mornay he said curtly, “Obliged.” He turned to Ariana. “Now then.” He was tall and heavily fleshed on his face, but he had intelligent gray eyes, and curly light brown hair, which was just beginning to gray.

When her name was given she managed a graceful curtsey, and, to her relief, a calm smile when the prince exclaimed, “I am delighted, Miss Forsythe. I daresay Mornay will be a different man, now. You must lead us in discovering his softer side!”

The whole company paused, awaiting her reply. The manner of her response would be crucial to acceptance in these circles. Her stomach was churning with nerves, but she forced a smile.

“I should be honoured to lead Mr. Mornay himself in discovering it.” She paused and gave her companion a wry look. “Assuming, of course, that it exists.” Her remark, as usual, was artless and honest; Ariana had simply stated what she felt was true. But the company loved it and burst into laughter. She had unwittingly conveyed that she was
not intimidated by the usually fearsome Mr. Mornay, and could meet his sharp tongue with apropos remarks of her own.

At the crowd’s response, Ariana smiled in earnest and laughed. The Regent then offered his assessment. “She is all sunlight, Mornay! The very thing you lack!” Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, he took Ariana’s hand and placed it upon his arm. She shot a look of alarm at Mr. Mornay, but he was listening to someone and missed it.

Meanwhile, the Regent walked her down the sumptuously decorated hall through a richly ornamented octagonal room. A grand staircase on one side, a gigantic skylight (which His Royal Highness pointed out, with the information that to appreciate it one had to view it in daylight) above. Everything Ariana saw blended into impressions…There was no time to take in the richness of details, and every nook and cranny had them. Ornaments, embellishments, tapestries, immense golden-framed paintings, polished and ornate furniture, exotic or graceful wallpapers, sculptures, rich fabrics, drapery…could a prince with such taste be condemned for great expenditures?

Her head was swimming at the richness and yet she could scarcely give heed to it all for she was overwhelmed at being upon the arm of the Prince Regent himself!

They entered a grand, magnificently lit room where people were milling about in conversation, though it ceased the instant the prince’s presence was noticed. He retained his hold on Ariana’s hand, which rested on his silken sleeve, and began circling the room.

“This is Miss Forsythe. Mornay’s lady!” He said it over and over to the curtseying ladies and the bowing gentlemen whom they passed. Ariana tried to smile at the faces who looked at her in stark amazement or curiosity, but she was also searching frantically for Mr. Mornay. There! She saw him, but he was smiling and chatting with another gentleman, ignoring the Regent’s antics. She hoped he would remember his promise to look after her.

Now His Royal Highness began pointing out people for her and naming them, including some slight
on-dit
about each and proving that, as was reputed of him, he was a witty and gracious host.

“There is Mrs. Siddons, the actress; have you seen her on stage? She is my particular friend.” Ariana had not, but she knew of her from reading the papers, including that she had just retired from the theatre. He pointed in another direction.

“There is Lady Jersey, a very dear and particular friend.” Her ladyship was watching and beckoned to him, and so, keeping Ariana’s hand upon his arm, he led her over.

Lady Jersey was an attractive woman who looked, Ariana thought, about her mother’s age. She was elegantly clad and wore a necklace of large jewels, and all Ariana could remember else about her afterward was that she had oddly cold eyes, even when she smiled. Ariana was blithely unaware that her ladyship was considered the prince’s mistress, which was fortunate, or her blushing countenance might have revealed her disapproval of such a relationship.

Aside from that encounter the Regent made her feel at ease, so that when he expressed his amazement and admiration that she had melted the legendary stone heart of Mornay, she was able to instantly profess she had no knowledge of doing so. He took this as a modest denial. Once the room had been circled he stopped and threw up a heavy arm in a flourish.

“Let us have dancing!” There was an immediate cry of approval from the boisterous guests, and the musicians, the prince’s own band, began to play at once. His Royal Highness made a polite bow as the first strains of a country dance began, and Ariana’s heart leapt as she realized he meant to dance with her. She automatically curtseyed, placed her hand once again on his arm which he was holding out with a smile; and she prayed that her trembling limbs were not evident.

The eyes of everyone in the room were on them and Ariana was thankful for the countless occasions she and Alberta had practiced this dance—a minuet—at home to pass the time. Others scrambled onto the floor to join in the figures and as she waited there with the Regent, Ariana had to keep telling herself that it was all very real; she was standing up with the prince, King George’s son! Wait ‘til her mother and father heard of it! Even Aunt Bentley would surely be astonished!

Though the prince had grown large over the years, he was fond of dancing and still capable of short-term gracefulness. Ariana found herself enjoying the dance, and the prince made amiable remarks whenever they came abreast of each other or waited for others to complete their figures. It was startling to enjoy the company of this Royal—a man her family had never approved of.

After she had been returned to her escort (who had after all been watching her on the dance floor, with that near-smile) one person after another came requesting an introduction to her. One man asked for a dance, and Ariana blushed lightly in confusion. Could one refuse graciously without giving offense? She looked uncertainly at Mr. Mornay. Perhaps he could help her. But he mistook her questioning look as a request for permission to accept the gentleman, and nodded imperceptibly for her to do so. Now she felt compelled to accept. She would have preferred to stay at Mr. Mornay’s side and watch the others dance. She wanted to take in every inch of her surroundings as well as the glamorous occupants of the room. But the prince had set a precedent among a crowd who loved to follow precedents, and so Ariana stood up for every dance. Some of her partners were men that Mr. Pellham would have unhesitatingly declared “veritable tulips,” or “pinks of the
ton,
” and she studied them for the sole purpose of giving their descriptions later on.

Between dances Mr. Mornay murmured, “Miss Forsythe, I do believe you are the rage this evening.”

“
You
are ever the rage, and their interest in me is only on your account,” Ariana returned.

He eyed her for a moment. “Can you be so certain?”

More dancing. Some gentlemen made a show of eliciting permission from her distinguished escort, one man adding that it was the first time he had the honour of “borrowing something belonging to Mornay.” Ariana blushed, but Mr. Mornay did not demur. It was a relief when Lord Horatio asked her to stand up with him. A man she knew, hurrah.

“Ah, but I think I should have the honour, Horatio,” Mornay said. “She is, after all, by the prince’s account, my lady, is she not?”

“A stroke of luck, Mornay, that he should have announced it so!” Lord Horatio looked around. “And the house is packed!” But he had not released Ariana’s gloved hand, and he placed it upon his arm now. “You never stand up to dance, and since you have allowed your charming partner to dance with most every gentleman here, I insist you grant me the opportunity.”

“Another time,” Mornay pressed. “I hear the strains of a waltz, and I fancy myself in the right mood for one.”

“A rare mood, indeed!” Lord Horatio declared with no small surprise on his face.

Ariana was equally surprised, but not unhappy. Lord Horatio reluctantly released her arm, requesting that she promise him a future dance, which she did, gladly.

Mr. Mornay held out his arm. “May I have the honour, Miss Forsythe?”

“You may, indeed!”

“Beware, Mornay.” Lord Horatio spoke as they started off for the dance. “You may chase her until she catches you.” He gave them an affable flourish with his arm, motioning them onto the floor, and there was no time for a response to the cryptic warning.