Black Sheep's Daughter (15 page)

 Dismissing Andrew from her mind, Teresa concentrated with sparkling eyes on Lord John's extravagant compliments.

 Marco came into the room. "Teresa, I must talk to you!" he said urgently. "You are always out, or at least I can never find you alone."

 "Speak, halfling," said Lord John. "I shall take myself into a far corner and close my ears."

 "Oh, I don't mind you hearing
...
though maybe Teresa would. It is all these curst females, and perhaps it is best if my uncle does not know."

 "What is it, Marco?  Are you not happy with your tutor?  You have had him only three days."

 "No, no, I like Mr Netherdale very well. It's something I read in the newspaper. Oh, bother!"

 This last exclamation was riven from him by the arrival of Miss Carter, closely followed by Boggs with the announcement that dinner was served. Teresa was on tenterhooks throughout the meal. She could not imagine what her brother could have read in the paper that was so important, and that her aunt and uncle were not to know.

 In spite of her preoccupation, she conversed politely with Miss Carter and exchanged witty repartee with Lord John. He asked after Gayo, to whom he had taken a great liking, and promised to visit the parrot soon.

 He was near her own age and she found him easy to talk to, charming even, though she doubted his sense of propriety. It was unlikely that a gentleman ought to tell a young, unmarried lady, even his cousin, that the children of Jane Harley, Countess of Oxford, were known as the Harleian Miscellany because of their variety of fathers!

 It rather spoiled the story that she had never heard of the Harleian Manuscripts. Lord John explained with his usual affability that these were a valuable collection made by an earlier Earl, later bought by the government for the British Museum. Since this was the only part of the conversation overheard by Miss Carter, she concluded that their discussion was decorous, if excessively learned.

 "Will you ride with me in the park tomorrow, Teresa?" Lord John asked some time later. "I should like to show off my beautiful cousin to my friends."

 "I have no riding habit," said Teresa, her voice filled with disappointment and longing. It seemed forever since she had ridden, whereas at home she spent as much time on horseback as off it.

 "You do ride, don't you?  Order a habit and we shall go when it arrives."

 "Uncle Stafford has already bought me so many clothes!  I cannot ask for more. And Annie will be quite overset if she has to find room in the wardrobe."

 He laughed. "I shall ask for you. I daresay m'mother never thought to suggest it, for she does not ride. And we'll find you a mount in the stables, never fear. Half of them just stand around eating their heads off. One for you too, sprout," he added to Marco, noting his hopeful face.

 At last dinner ended. Teresa and Miss Carter retired to the drawing room, whither both gentlemen soon followed them. Marco had not yet developed a taste for port, and Lord John preferred carousing with his bosom bows to drinking sedately in his parents' dining room.

 In no time Miss Carter, as was her custom, was nodding off in her chair by the fire.

 "What did you read in the newspaper?" demanded Teresa. "No, wait a minute. Whisper, so that I can tell if I want our cousin to know."

 "It was about Harrison, the captain of the
Snipe
," whispered Marco.

 "Harrison!  I am glad you did not blurt it out before the duke and duchess, for I do not in the least want them to learn that story. I daresay it will not hurt for Cousin John to know, if he promises not to breathe a word to a soul."

 "Cross my heart and hope to die," said Lord John, "or if you prefer it, upon my word as a gentleman. I am like to die of curiosity."

 "It was in the
Times
. He has been arraigned, and a date set for the trial."

 "Whoa!  You go too fast, young Marco. Who is Harrison and what is our interest in his misdeeds?"

 Teresa and Marco told the tale of the hunting of the
Snipe
, how the slavers had scuttled her with all the slaves aboard, and how they had been saved. Teresa was inclined to belittle her part in the affair, but her brother insisted on the rescue having been her idea in the first place.

 "And you who did a great deal of the rescuing too.
And
you helped the ship’s doctor treat them, too, Teresa."

 "The devil you did!"

 "I was very proud of you, and so was Sir Andrew."

 "Who is this Sir Andrew you keep mentioning?" John asked.

 Teresa felt herself blushing and was furious. "You met him," she reminded, "when we arrived here."

 "Oh, that fella," said his lordship dismissively. "So what is it has you in the boughs, halfling?  Not just the notice of Harrison's trial, I'll wager."

 It was Marco's turn to redden. "I daresay it is nothing of importance. The paper said he accused a gentleman of high rank of financing his voyage."

 "They did not mention his name?" asked Teresa.

 "Hah, afraid of a suit for libel," explained Lord John. "Anything else?"

 "He uttered fearsome threats against those who incriminated him."

 "Well, I do not like it, but we did hear him before, remember."

 "I do wish you will stop interrupting, Teresa!  I thought you ought to know that the prosecutor will be calling the passengers as witnesses because the
Destiny
and its crew have already sailed."

 "Heavens!"  Teresa paled. "The whole story will be published to the world. I dare not think what the duchess will say."

 "Half the world will call you a heroine," said Lord John, frowning. "Unfortunately, the half that matters is more like to damn you as a scapegrace hoyden."

 "I'll tell you what I think," offered Marco. "You should go and consult Sir Andrew. He will know what's best to do."

 Teresa was so pleased with this advice that she flung her arms round her brother and kissed him, much to his embarrassment.

 Later, snuggling into the cosy warmth of her feather bed, she was overcome with guilt. It was ten days since her arrival in London and she had called on neither Lady Parr and Muriel nor Sir Andrew. To all of them she owed her gratitude and to the latter money as well. She hoped they did not think her so puffed up with pride in her aristocratic relations that they were beneath her touch.

* * * *

 The next day she begged the duchess to postpone their visits to the hostesses of the Ton. Her Grace was not best pleased to hear that her niece intended to call upon Lady Parr, that shabby-genteel relict of a baronet. However, Teresa managed to persuade her that it would be the height of incivility to fail to acknowledge the lady who had chaperoned her across the Atlantic.

 "Very well," sighed her aunt. "But you must not expect me to go with you, and pray do not invite them to Stafford House. Stafford abhors mushrooms."

 Teresa was too pleased that the duchess was not to go with her to wonder what her uncle's taste in vegetables had to do with the matter. Somehow she had not mentioned that she intended also to call on Sir Andrew Graylin. If her Grace disapproved of Lady Parr, the young diplomat, who worked for his living, might well be considered quite beyond the pale.

 She knew better than to go alone. She and Annie set out at eleven in the morning, the proper hour for paying visits, in the landaulet the duke had put at her disposal.

 Teresa had dressed with unusual care. She had no desire to offend Lady Parr, however shabby-genteel, nor to outshine Muriel. On the other hand, she wanted to stun Andrew. She wore an amethyst walking dress, cut with the exquisite simplicity that did so much for her shape. Her kid gloves and half-boots were of the same shade, her pelisse of darker violet cloth and her bonnet trimmed with a jaunty bunch of violets. She felt every inch a lady of fashion as the carriage rattled down Park Lane.

 But if Andrew merely told her again that she looked every inch a lady, she would succumb to the vapours, she vowed. Then she was ashamed of herself. He was affianced to Muriel, her friend, and though she hoped he was her friend too she had no business caring what he thought of her appearance.

 The groom drew up the horses outside the Parrs' house in Hill Street. Teresa told him she would send a message if she decided to stay more than half an hour, and she and Annie trod up the steps.

 The brass knocker summoned an elderly butler, who said he would see if her ladyship was at home, and then creaked away up the stairs. Teresa gazed curiously around the entrance hall. She remembered her brief glimpse of it from the carriage on her arrival in London. It had impressed her as palatial then; now, used to the magnificence of Stafford House, she found it unremarkable.

 The duchess's comment about mushrooms returned to her, and she remembered what Miss Carter had said on the subject. Miss Carter's information was imparted in a stream of gentle chatter that seemed to go in one ear and out the other, but much of it stuck, to reappear unexpectedly at the right moment. "Mushrooms," she had explained, "pop up overnight in fields though there was no sign of them the day before. In society a mushroom, though without known family background, pops up among people of the highest rank."

 At the thought of Lady Parr's expression could she know that the duchess considered her a mushroom, Teresa laughed aloud.

 Andrew, running down the stairs to greet her, heard the enchanting laugh he knew so well at the very moment that he caught sight of a modish young lady he scarcely recognised. "Teresa!  Miss Danville!"  Words failed him.

 She read wonder in his face and was satisfied. She held out both hands to him. He took them and pressed a kiss on each, warm enough to be felt through the thin kid, then flushed and released them.

 "Andrew, what a happy chance to meet you here."  Her own colour was heightened but she smiled with careful composure, wondering how his kiss would feel on her cheek, on her lips. "I was going to call on you next."

 "Then thank heaven I am here!"  He blanched at this candid avowal. "A young lady never visits a gentleman's lodging."

 "I have brought Annie. I know better than to go about alone."

 "In this case a maid is insufficient," he said sternly. "No escort less than the duke or duchess could make such a visit respectable. Promise me that you will not call on me."

 Teresa was flushed with annoyance now. Nearly two weeks without seeing him, an altogether gratifying greeting, and here they were already come to cuffs.

 "I beg your pardon."  His smile was rueful. "We agreed long ago that I had no right to guide your conduct, and now you are under the duke's protection I am sure I have no need."

 "I did not tell anyone I meant to visit you," she confessed, disarmed. "I had a notion it might be frowned on, though I did not guess it was unforgivable."

 "Nothing you do could be unforgivable, Teresa. I am amazed at how quickly you are learning the rules of society, but they are many and your mentors cannot be expected to foresee every eventuality. For your own sake, I hope you will consult the duchess when in doubt. I should not care to see you in the briars."

 "How can I resist such an appeal?  I shall not call on you, I promise, unless I can persuade my uncle to bring me. I suppose my cousin John is not an eligible escort in such a case?"

 He frowned. "No," he said abruptly. "Shall we go up? Muriel and Lady Parr will be wondering what has become of you."

 As they went up, Teresa asked him how much she and Marco owed him. "A round sum," she added. "I do not expect a detailed account."

 "I can stand the nonsense," he growled. "I am sure you have better things to spend the ready on."  He glanced at the stylish violet pelisse.

 "Uncle Stafford has been more than generous. I have had no expenses so far. I am certain that Don Eduardo did not expect that you should frank us, sir, and I do not care to be beholden. Pray tell me the amount."

 He muttered a figure.

 "I shall bring it to your lodging as soon as I have seen Don Eduardo's banker."

 "Teresa!"  He caught the twinkle in her eye. "Oh, you are roasting me. Dashed if I hadn't forgot what a tease you are!"  He ushered her into a small saloon decorated in the Egyptian style. "Ma'am, Muriel, here is Miss Danville."

 Muriel rose from an uncomfortable-looking chair with lions' feet and started towards Teresa, her languid movements belied by her expression of eager welcome. Then she took in the apparition of fashionable splendour and her gliding steps faltered.

 "Oh Muriel, you cannot be shy of me!"  Teresa hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Fine feathers do not make fine birds, you know."

  Despite her new elegance, she found she still envied her friend's blond prettiness. After all, that was what Andrew admired. Muriel was wearing a new morning gown of pink mull muslin. Teresa knew now that it would not have suited her in the least, yet it became Muriel's slender fairness very well. If perhaps some of Lady Parr's notions were shabby-genteel, her daughter was perfectly presentable. Teresa resolved not to give up the acquaintance only because her aunt was excessively high in the instep.

 She turned to Lady Parr and curtsied a trifle lower than her ladyship's own rules provided for a baronet's widow. "I hope I see you well, ma'am?"

 My lady was amazingly subdued by her ex-protégée's blossoming into a lady of fashion. In the conversation that followed, she only once quoted the late Sir Archibald's opinion and that in a complimentary manner. When Teresa begged her to allow Muriel to drive with her in the park, she agreed with every sign of delight and sent her daughter off to fetch her spencer at once.

 Teresa suddenly remembered that she had to consult Andrew about the trial of the slaver captain. She did not want to alarm the ladies, should they not have heard the news, though as they had stayed below during the entire incident they were not witnesses.

 "There is something I must discuss with you privately," she told Andrew in a low, worried voice. "Will you call at Stafford House, as soon as may be?"

 Puzzled but intrigued, he assented. "Tomorrow afternoon at three?" he asked.