Edith Layton (20 page)

By the time it was considered polite for morning visits to end, the parlor was filled, the air stifling, and the scent of attar of roses, violets, lavender, powder, camphor, and sweat was thick in the air. But their time was up, so the assembled ladies of the
ton
had to leave. They did, with many a promise to call again.

Meg curtsied to each of them, hoping her face didn’t show the hollow feeling she had in the pit of her stomach.

“They came, all right,” Daffyd commented. “Now, can I open a window? I’m used to stenches but it’s hard to breathe in here. Almost as bad as Newgate at dawn on a Hanging Monday. Don’t the Quality know soap’s better than perfume? Don’t they use it?”

“Not the old ones,” the earl commented “Nor some of the younger ones either. They think perfume covers it.”

“Like it would cover a dead dog,” Daffyd said. “Smells like something’s gone off.”

“Well, at least they did,” the earl said. “Open the window wide. What did you think, Miss Shaw? I heard at least some of them say they were interested in you.”

Meg avoided his eyes. “I know. But in truth, I can’t say because I don’t know them, after all.”

Daffyd flung open a window. “Didn’t I tell you?” he asked the earl, and laughed. “The girl’s so polite she’d bow to the hangman. Cough it up, Meg. You can do it. You threw your lot in with me after five minutes.”

“That was different,” she said, stung. “It wasn’t five minutes, either. Still, I didn’t know how long I’d travel with you, and I knew I could leave any time I wanted to. I was free. This will be my future and my livelihood. A companion is judged harshly if she flits about from job to job. So how can I judge a person I’d have to live with and obey for at least a year on such short acquaintance?”

“Try,” Daffyd said, as he perched on the window seat. He wore a teasing smile she knew too well.

“You’re among friends,” the earl said kindly, but he exchanged a sparkling look with Daffyd.

“Well,” she said, “the dowager terrified me, and I don’t think I could work for an employer I was afraid of. Nor do I have to. I have a home to go back to.”

“The dowager? I wouldn’t let you go to that old trout,” Daffyd said in bored tones. “And I told you, the aunts aren’t a choice.”

“But the rest?” the earl asked.

“I don’t think many were actually looking for a companion,” she said. “In fact, some of them told me they weren’t, but that they were looking on behalf of someone they knew.”

“Looking for gossip,” the earl said, nodding.

“And some,” Meg went on, her cheeks turning the color of her gown, “were looking for other reasons.”

“Out with it,” Daffyd said, with a secret smile. “Come on, Meg, you’re not mealy-mouthed.”

“Well,” she said, looking at the earl, “some of them only wanted to know about you, my lord. I think they were looking for someone to engage, but it wasn’t me.”

Daffyd exploded with laughter.

The earl looked surprised, but then he laughed, too. “Awake on every suit, indeed,” he said. “Was there no one here to employ a companion?”

“Oh, yes,” she said quickly. “I liked Lady Sloan, and her daughter, though shy, was charming.”

“Well, no need to make up your mind right this
minute. I’ll wager the parlor will be stuffed for the next few days once word gets out. And I’ll double the wager that you find a position by the end of the week.”

“I love a good bet, but I won’t take that one,” Daffyd commented. “Because I think you’re right.”

So did Meg, but she didn’t smile. Because Daffyd did.

They had visitors for tea, and the parlor was packed with visitors paying a morning call the next day. Even more guests came to call for tea that afternoon. It seemed that the latest craze for the ladies of the
ton
was to come to see the rich, elusive earl of Egremont, and his rich, young, astonishingly attractive ward. Meg agreed with that assessment of Daffyd, which she overheard several ladies making. She didn’t have to eavesdrop, either. The earl’s guests treated her just as they ought, like a servant applying for a position. So they either talked at her, or over her head to their friends.

Meg thought she was used to that. But her days and nights with Daffyd and his odd, assorted, far-flung family had changed her. It wasn’t just the ladies ignoring her that hurt, she suffered when she saw how easily Daffyd fell in with his mentor’s highly placed guests. He was charming, and wickedly bright, always staying just this side of scandalous. They loved it. He seemed to enjoy himself as much as they did. And of course, he never spoke to her in company, no more than he joked with her that way at all anymore.

Meg began to think she might have been better off with the aunts, after all. She’d be kept in her place there too, but the only ones she’d have to envy were the sheep.

Still, there was the youthful Lady Sloan, and her poor crushed daughter, Claire. Claire was plain where her mama was ornate, tongue-tied where her mama was facile, and absolutely downtrodden. Meg couldn’t help but feel a kinship with her. Ridiculous, of course, she thought, considering the girl was an heiress with a pedigree that coursed through several royal houses. But the lady was kind, and Claire seemed to need a friend as well as a companion.

“So, yes,” Meg reported two days later when she sat and talked with the earl and Daffyd at dinner. “I’ve spoken to all who are really interested, and there aren’t that many. But I’m being interviewed by Lady Sloan again tomorrow, at her home. If all works out, I think I might go with them. If neither of you has any objection?”

“I’ve heard nothing against them, have you?” the earl asked Daffyd, looking from Meg to him.

“No,” Daffyd said curtly. “But I’ll put an ear to the ground. No time like the present.” He flung down his napkin and rose from the table. “I’m off on a ramble. Don’t expect me back early, but I’ll be home in time to take you to the Sloan house tomorrow, Meg.”

The earl shook his head. “I’m promised to Old Doctor Simmons tonight. Remember him, Daffy?”

Daffyd nodded. “Never forget a man who did me a favor. I can’t even see that slash he mended.”

“Hard to see your back,” the earl commented dryly. “But he was a decent fellow. He’d sew up a prisoner as fine as he would a prince, and I’ve never forgotten our debt to him. I thought you’d like to come along.”

“No,” Daffyd said curtly. “If it’s gossip you want, stay in a parlor. If it’s dirt, count on me. I’m off to find out what I can about the Sloans.” He hesitated, then looked at Meg. His expression grew softer and his eyes searched hers.

She got a glimpse of the old Daffyd in his gaze: the Daffyd she’d kissed, the Daffyd whose body had once been as intimately held to hers as his gaze was now. She held her breath and waited for what he would say.

Whatever he saw in her eyes surprised him. His expression grew cool, his eyes cold and sapphire bright. His voice was brisk as he looked away and asked, “Mind being alone tonight, Meg?”

She forced a cheerful expression. “No. I found a wonderful book.”

“Then, good night,” Daffyd said. He paused, and frowned. “I tell you what. I’ll get us tickets for a play tomorrow night, sort of a farewell performance.”

“An excellent idea,” the earl said. “And we’ll dine out before. A celebration for Miss Shaw’s success, because I’m certain that if she wants something, she’ll get it.”

“I am, too,” Daffyd said. “I’ll just make sure she’s got something worth celebrating,” he added, bowed, and left.

Meg watched him leave the room. She looked down at her lap.

“Sometimes,” the earl told her softly. “Things must run their inevitable course. It’s difficult for young people to be patient. But I’ve found, through hard experience, that you can’t rush Fate, or Luck, or Time itself. Make yourself comfortable, Miss Shaw. And if there’s anything you need—tonight, or ever—please, always feel you can apply to me.”

“I do, I will, thank you,” Meg said. And hoped he’d leave soon, because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her expression calm and contained. After all, tomorrow she might find her place at last, and so be forced to give up all her foolish, dangerous hopes.

“M
iss Shaw? How kind of you to come at such short notice,” the tall, fair-haired lady said as she glided into the room.

Meg rose from the chair where she’d been waiting. Daffyd had been in a foul mood this morning. She guessed he’d had a late night of drinking, because he’d been heavy-eyed, closemouthed, and brooding. Still, he’d taken her to the Sloan townhouse as promised, and even he’d been impressed by the address.

“Couldn’t find anything on them,” he’d reported, sounding disappointed. “But the lady’s a stick, her husband’s hardly ever home, the sons are at school, and the daughter’s a clunch. Still,” he said, sounding as though he were forced to admit it, “that could be
almost any family in the
ton
. They might bore you to death, but I suppose they won’t hurt you.”

He’d helped her down from his curricle and waited for her to go up the short stair to the door. His eyebrows went up when she headed for the back of the house.

He ran after her, and caught her arm. “None of that,” he said, scowling. “You’re not going in the servants’ entrance.”

“But I am one,” she’d protested.

“Not if you don’t want to be. A companion isn’t a scullery maid. You should start as you mean to go on. Apply for a position at the back door and you’ll always be taken for a beggar.”

“And if they insist?”

“Then you’ll find another job.”

But to her delight, she’d been expected at the front door. Daffyd left her when the butler offered to show them in. “I’ll be waiting,” he told her, and stalked back to the carriage.

Now she faced her prospective employer, and once again, Meg was impressed with her. Lady Sloan’s pale hair was drawn back and tied simply; this morning she wore a long, slim column of a gown of amber silk. She had the correct bones for such simplicity, and the grace to make it look spectacular. And she had exquisite manners. Meg had been made to feel as though she were just another morning caller by being shown into the parlor, not the kitchens or my lady’s study.

Meg sketched a bow, and only then noticed the girl who followed her mother into the room. Dressed correctly in white, Claire, as always, looked like a wan shadow of her lovely mama.

“Do sit down,” Lady Sloan said, indicating a chair opposite the divan where she seated herself. Claire drifted over and stood behind her. “I’ve gone over your letters of recommendation, and am impressed. However,” the lady added, “I see there is none from your last employer.” She raised a slender hand to cut off any explanations. “I am well aware of the reason for it.”

Meg drew in a breath.

The lady smiled at her daughter, and then turned her head to smile at Meg. “More about that later. Let me explain our needs to you first, Miss Shaw. My daughter is to make her come-out next spring. She is woefully unprepared. In fact, the sad truth is that she was long overshadowed by her sister, who recently married.” She smiled wistfully. “Such a madcap, our little elf, Emma. But now it’s Claire’s turn. And there is a difficulty. She does not shine in social situations. In fact, she shrinks from them, shuns conversation, and becomes tongue-tied in front of eligible gentlemen. A problem, to be sure. Therefore, it’s necessary for us to give her all the help we can. That is where you, Miss Shaw, come in.”

Meg cocked her head to the side.

“We have some time before Claire makes her bows,” the lady explained. “We thought to go back to
Somerset and rusticate a while so Claire can get to know you better. Our manor is a delightful place. You’re from the countryside, Miss Shaw, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it there. And then, we’ll return to Town in the new year.”

Now Lady Sloan became almost animated. She leaned forward. “I’ll be frank. The Season is a brief period in which a young woman must make the greatest impression in the shortest time in a crowd of similar young women, in order to catch the eye of the greatest prizes on the marriage mart.” Lady Sloan shook her smooth head. “To be crude, it’s no more or less than a mating season. And the truth is that men are like competitive rams; they’re only drawn to females other males want. A young woman may be dressed to perfection. She can play the harp and possess a charming singing voice. She may have a tidy fortune and a fine lineage. But if other men don’t want her, she won’t find a suitable match.

“We have no illusions, Claire and I,” she went on, patting her daughter’s hand where it lay on the back of the divan. “It’s unlikely that she can hone her social skills in time to make a splash in the coming Season. I’d almost given up on bringing her out next year. But then you came to town, and I realized that if Claire is talked about, she doesn’t need to talk. If she’s noticed, she doesn’t have to exert herself to attract attention. And if she is in the company of someone everyone wishes to see, she will be seen. And then, anything may happen.”

Lady Sloan looked directly into Meg’s puzzled
eyes. “You, Miss Shaw, are the talk of the Town. You ran off from a respectable position to go with that wildly attractive gypsy ward of the earl of Egremont—we saw the gypsy through the window just now. Obviously, since you’re seeking a respectable position again, your relationship with him is over, though your friendship is not. Though I can’t approve, of course, I can at least understand your reason for straying. He’s a striking-looking specimen, with a veneer of civilization that charms, and an undercurrent of wildness that…”

The lady paused, and then went on, “You cannot know how many ladies would give anything to have him as a guest. Perhaps he’d come to one of our balls if you ask? I should think so, judging from your past association. We’ll leave that for later. The earl of Egremont is himself a man of mystery and fascination. As if your intimate acquaintance with those two fascinating rogues weren’t enough, then we hear you passed some time at that delightful rascal, Viscount Haye’s, wicked establishment. Now, you come to London, seeking employment.

“The
ton
can speak of little else. For all your wild starts, you’re well spoken, and look respectable. Still, you’re trying to pass yourself off as untainted goods. Of course, you cannot. Some young women can, even after wilder adventures. That disgraceful Lamb girl was accepted almost everywhere, in spite of her mad exploits. And do not even mention Miss Carrington, last season! Yet she may be seen anywhere these days. But you haven’t the necessary for
tune or family for that. Still, with the earl’s sponsorship, you are acceptable, after a fashion.

“Of course, there’s no question of you finding a respectable match. You’re utterly ruined, and not in a position to marry well even if you weren’t. But if you were to be Claire’s companion, every eye would be on you, and so, on her, and she’ll have her chance to shine.”

“Miss Shaw,” the lady continued as Meg sat and gaped at her. “Here is a way for you to earn a decent recommendation, and money, too.”

Meg caught her breath. Her hands felt icy even in their gloves, and her heart began a rapid beat. She’d think about what had been said later. Now, she only knew she had to save face. She refused to let this cold creature know how much she’d hurt her. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll corrupt your daughter?” she asked levelly.

Lady Sloan’s laughter was like silvery bells. “Oh, my, no. Claire is incorruptible. She wants only to marry, wisely and well. And actually, your daring might inspire her to go after the gentleman of her choice with more vigor. You see, Miss Shaw, I don’t believe you to be unprincipled or lascivious. Did I, you wouldn’t now be sitting in my house. I believe you merely made a miscalculation; I should love to hear more about it at some later date.”

“Miscalculation?” Meg managed to ask.

“Yes,” the lady said smoothly. “The gypsy is very rich, and gossip has it that he’s also well connected,
if on the wrong side of the blanket. That means he can look higher for a wife, so his children will be freer of taint. So certainly, he will, when he decides to settle down. But how should you have known that? Or that the Viscount Haye never commits to more than above a few weeks? Understandable mistakes on your part, and not so reprehensible as it would have been were you looking merely for pleasure. But I believe you were only seeking to better yourself. Obviously, so do others. The earl may be eccentric and have a shocking past; still, he’s widely thought to be an excellent judge of people, and a man of good moral character, and he recommends you highly.

“But that’s the past. As for the future? We would hope you don’t run off and leave us in the lurch as you did the baron, but I don’t think you will. You’re too clever for that; you know you need to regain your footing. And so? We will pay well, and there’ll be a good recommendation in it for you at the end of your employment.”

Meg rose to her feet. “You will, of course, give me time to consider your offer?” she asked in a tight voice. “After all, I have had others, and have more interviews to go on.”

The lady’s eyes narrowed. “We will meet any price.”

Meg bowed. “Understood. Then you’ll understand how important it is for me to seek more offers.”

Lady Sloan nodded. “Yes, of course. We await your answer and hope it will be in the affirmative.”

“Oh, yes!” Claire suddenly blurted. “Please do come work for us, Miss Shaw. Everyone’s talking about the gypsy and there he is, waiting for you outside
our
house! It’s too exciting. And you stayed with the Viscount Haye! I get shivers just thinking about him, he’s so dashing and wicked. And the earl of Egremont! And you knew the runaway heiress! Everyone will envy me having you here, and oh, what fun to have you in our house!”

Meg tilted her head. She looked at Lady Sloan. “Your daughter seems to have no difficulty expressing herself,” she said coolly. “Although, I believe it would be better if she learned to elevate the tone of her conversation. Good day.”

She marched from the house, head high. She refused to let any emotion show on her face, nor could she. She wasn’t sure what she felt, and was afraid that once she did, she wouldn’t feel numb anymore.

Daffyd eyed her curiously as he helped her up into the carriage. “So is it to be a celebration tonight, then?” he asked.

“What?”

“The dinner, the theater, tonight. The great farewell party, with the earl,” he reminded her.

“Oh, yes, I’d forgot. Yes,” Meg said with a tight smile. “Yes. It will be a great farewell.”

He gripped the reins, cracked the whip, and they rode back in silence.

Daffyd stared when Meg came down the stair that night.

The earl beamed. “Now that,” he said, looking at the gown she wore, “was definitely a present from the viscount, was it not?”

Meg fingered the skirt of her gown lovingly. “Yes. And since I don’t know if I can ever wear it again, I thought to have one use out of it, tonight.” She hesitated. “It’s not too much, is it?”

“It’s too little,” Daffyd said. “But that’s fashion. You look lovely, Meg,” he added sincerely.

She let out a breath. She’d finally dared to wear the most beautiful and outrageous gown the Viscount Haye had given her. It was gold cloth, and little else. And Daffyd was right, there was very little of it, at least compared to what she was used to wearing. It was thin, low at the breast, tied under her breasts with a silver ribbon, and clung to her body all the way down to her golden slippered toes. Her maid had done her hair up and topped her ringlets with the delicate gilt coronet that had come with the gown. Meg felt as outrageous, rich, and shockingly sensuous as the gown looked.

“I’m glad you approve,” she said, and no longer able to act cool and contained when she was so excited, added, “And there’s a shawl that came with it!”

Daffyd took a step forward, but the earl offered Meg his arm first.

“I’ll be the envy of every man in London tonight,” the earl said. “Come, let’s celebrate, although…” He paused, and added seriously, “It doesn’t have to be a farewell dinner. You don’t have to jump at the first decent position offered.”

Daffyd grew still, and watched Meg.

“I didn’t do that,” she said with a curiously sedate smile that made her piquant face look mature and wise. “I just decided to do the best thing for myself.”

“Bravo,” the earl said.

Daffyd said nothing.

There were no “bravos” offered at the theater that night. The play was outdated, the actors mediocre, and the audience restless. The earl tried to watch the play, Mrs. Courtland dozed, Daffyd often got up to pace the hall or stand in the shadows of their box. Meg enjoyed herself thoroughly.

“Of course you did,” Daffyd told her when they got settled into the carriage for the ride home. “The audience made more of a fuss over you than they did over the play.”

Meg didn’t deny it. “Yes,” she said in a curiously brittle voice. “That’s true. And before you call me conceited, I know it was because of three things: the earl, you, and this outrageous gown. Lovely ladies in a London theater are as common as mice are in a barn at home. But you two are still the talk of the town. In fact,” she went with a small smile, “I was told that just today.”

“Speaking of today,” the earl said, “shall you tell us your decision now? You said it was too soon in the restaurant, and too noisy at the theater. Come, surely now’s the time. I’ve a bottle of ancient French brandy waiting for your news.”

“Let’s wait until we get home,” she said. “After
all, you did say it was a farewell party, and so it will be. I’ll tell my news, and then we’ll have a toast, and then to bed. Because I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

The coach went still.

“In the morning?” Daffyd demanded. “They can’t need you that soon.”

“I leave in the morning,” she said firmly.

“I cannot like this haste,” the earl said, sounding troubled. “Are you certain it’s necessary?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll tell you everything soon enough. Can’t we do it my way?”

“Of course,” the earl said. “Nothing like a bit of drama.”

“But it’s nothing like you, Meg,” Daffyd said suspiciously.

“Surprise,” she said, without a hint of humor in her voice.

They didn’t speak again until the coach rolled up at the earl’s town house, and Mrs. Courtland’s maid had helped her to bed. Then Meg, Daffyd and the earl went into his study.