Emily Hendrickson (8 page)

“Rose,” Chloe whispered when the girl peeked around the corner from the scullery and into the kitchen. When she ventured close to her, Chloe asked, “Could you find me some food? I fear I may not eat later.”

Understanding how it was to be deprived of food when hungry, the girl darted off. She returned shortly with a plate holding a slice of ham, a roll, a savory, and a piece of plum cake.

Chloe accepted the largesse, but not before observing how the child’s large eyes followed the food.

“Are you hungry, Rose? Do you even get enough to eat?”

“Bless you, miss, us below the salt dassent ask for more of anythin’ to eat,” Rose replied with an anxious glance at the cook, who had just returned to the kitchen from her rooms.

“Rose,” she commanded in a firm tone, “back to work. Do not be bothering Lady Chloe.” The girl skittered from the kitchen and soon was heard banging pots and pans.

“Mrs. Beeman,” Chloe said in her soft voice, “I would that Rose be given more to eat. She looks too thin by half.”

Casting an astounded look at Chloe, who rarely ever raised her voice regarding anything in the house, the cook nodded. “Don’t see any harm in it, though what your grandmother might say with coddling of a scullery maid, I don’t know.”

“Well, if she is not hungry, she might well work better.” After hurriedly eating the food on her plate, Chloe placed it on a sideboard in the butler’s pantry, then spirited herself off to the front parlor. When Grandmama returned, it was well to be forewarned.

She stood close to the window holding aside the golden draperies with one slender hand, apprehensive and nervous.

At long last the dowager’s Town carriage drew up before the house. The groom in his dark blue-and-gold livery hurried to let down the steps, then assist the dowager from the vehicle. She sailed up to the front door, which was whisked open for her so she need not so much as pause in her stride.

Chloe turned to face the doorway, wondering if she would be able to withstand what she feared was coming. She licked her dry lips and quickly folded her hands before her lest Grandmama see her trepidations.

Apparently the dowager had been informed as to Chloe’s whereabouts, for within seconds the imposing figure appeared framed in the doorway. With narrowed eyes, she advanced upon Chloe.

“I heard the most outrageous story this afternoon. Mrs. Robynhod claimed she observed you exiting Gunter’s with not only Miss Spayne, but Mr. Purcell and Mr. St. Aubyn as well. I said nothing, not wishing to risk a falsehood. It cannot be true, or can it?” She glared down at Chloe, who stiffened her spine lest she wilt.

The ordeal was ever worse than Chloe had feared. Her grandmother was twisting the scene to sound sordid and dreadful instead of an innocent dish of pineapple ice.

“We encountered Mr. St. Aubyn and Mr. Purcell at the Rotunda. They were most kind to assist us and offered to treat us to an ice. Even Ellen enjoyed a treat.” Chloe sought to remind her relative that she had been properly chaperoned, although it was but a maid. Ellen was of sober and decent reputation, not one of those maids who flirted and got into trouble.

“I do not wish you to speak to these gentlemen again,” the dowager said in the most repressing of voices. She drew herself up and prepared to go to her room for a rest.

“Is it true they are not only wealthy in their own right, but due to inherit a vast fortune as Laura said?” Chloe inserted before her grandmother left the room. “Laura said her mama told her the St. Aubyn jewels are worth a queen’s ransom.”

The Dowager Lady Dancy pirouetted to face Chloe, a most peculiar expression crossing her face as she did. “I had heard something of the sort, true. However, St. Aubyn has a dreadful reputation,” she concluded with a wave of her hand.

“He was all that was proper and kind to me,” Chloe said in reply.

“Indeed.” With an exceedingly thoughtful expression on her face, the dowager left the room.

Once alone, Chloe sank on the nearest chair, her legs finally refusing to support her any longer.

“I did it,” she crowed in a whisper. “I managed to stand up to her in my own way and survive. I must tell Laura.” With that she dashed up to find her bonnet and gloves.

* * * *

In the drawing room of her new abode, having been forced to remove there even more quickly than she had believed necessary, Elinor paced back and forth. Mrs. Robynhod had told her little tale with such glee. To think that Elinor’s own twit of a niece should humiliate her in this way.

Oh, that girl! To be seen laughing and flirting with Julian St. Aubyn in public, just outside of Gunter’s. He had expressed great glee over something Chloe had shown him. Drawings, perhaps?

Elinor stopped her pacing to contemplate this thought. After a time, she rang for her maid, ordering her pelisse and bonnet, and the carriage to be brought around. Something must be done to halt an attraction before it could bloom. Although what St. Aubyn might see in that dab of a girl was more than Elinor could imagine.

Her mind working furiously for the next half hour while she awaited her carriage, Elinor had a vague plan when she finally left her new house across the square from Julian’s elegant home.

She darted a malevolent glance at it when she drove past, wishing she might make things most unpleasant for him. How dare he insult her so!

When she arrived at the Dowager Lady Dancy’s home, Elinor sought an interview with her. Upon finding the lady unavailable, Elinor turned a speculative gaze on the butler. In her experience most of them were corruptible given the right sum of money.

She withdrew a gold coin from her reticule, holding it so it might be seen by an observant eye. When he straightened and blinked, she knew she was closer to success. “Is my dear niece Lady Chloe also absent?”

“Indeed, madam. I believe she has gone to the bookshop with her maid.”

“I loaned her a trifle which she has failed to return. Might I just whisk myself up to her room to fetch it? Then I would not have to embarrass the child. One must be considerate of these young people, for they have such delicate nerves.” With a discreet and most graceful wave of her hand she transferred the gold coin to the butler’s.

Within minutes Elinor found herself in Chloe’s little room. She looked around her with distaste.

“I vow, ‘tis as plain as she is. Where could she hide that pad of paper Mrs. Robynhod mentioned seeing? Surely she’d not take it to the bookshop.”

Then Elinor espied a stack of what appeared to be drawings on the dressing table. Darting to quickly peruse them she suddenly let out a horrified gasp. When she viewed herself as a sleek mongoose who looked ready to consume the nearest snake in the grass Elinor’s eyes grew huge with outrage.

“She will pay for this,” Elinor vowed. “I shall make her wish she had never been born.”

Chapter 5

Chloe peered about the bookshop to see if Laura was there.

“Around the corner,” Ellen counseled.

Hatchards was crowded with book lovers and most likely a few others who were there like Chloe, to meet a friend. The area in the front of the shop was full of gentlemen engaging in pleasant debate. Chloe hurried around the stack of books to find her confidant.

“You survived,” Laura exclaimed softly when she saw Chloe’s face peering over a stack of books.

“I do believe I gave Grandmama something to think about, for I repeated what you told me regarding you-know-who’s fortune, not to mention the family jewels. She had the most peculiar look on her face before she went up for her afternoon rest.” Chloe shared a pleased look with her friend over her tiny victory.

Laura beamed a smile of satisfaction at Chloe, then said, “Allow me to pay for this book of verse, then perhaps we might go for a stroll along the edge of Green Park?”

“Afraid of the cows?” Chloe said with a gurgle of laughter knowing her friend would never venture close to the animals that roamed in the park.

“I have never liked animals larger than I am,” Laura said with a twinkle in her pretty dark eyes. “And, yes, that includes horses.”

Once outside, the two girls, with their maids close behind them, strolled along the border of the park, admiring the scenery and animals from a safe distance.

“How does your drawing proceed?” Laura asked after a time.

“I have completed all the patronesses at Almack’s and quite a few others. Oh, Laura, it is such fun. I study a person to see what part of his or her character stands out in my mind, or perhaps how they appear to me. Then, I simply draw a likeness of that animal, bird, or whatever and bestow the facial likeness on it. For instance. Lady Jersey is a beautiful butterfly.”

“Delightful. And what about me?” Laura said with some hesitation.

“You are the dearest of kittens, the sort one loves to pet and cuddle.”

“How lovely,” Laura cooed with delight. “I’d give a shilling to know how you portray Mr. St. Aubyn.”

“A lion rampant, but you need not look at me like that. He feels sorry for me and desires to help, nothing more,” Chloe said with a prim nod in a voice that warned Laura not to tease.

“Oh, do not look now, but there is Sir Augustus Dabney approaching. I cannot believe he is walking! Gracious, he must have sold his carriages and horses to pay his gaming debts,” Laura confided in a soft undertone.

“Perhaps he wished to merely take the air?” Chloe offered, not wishing to impugn Sir Augustus, for he had been very kind to her.

“Do you never think ill of another?” Laura said with a hint of impatience.

“Indeed—my grandmama often, and my aunt Elinor every now and again, and Lord Twisdale constantly. But they are an exception, you know. I tend to think good of someone until shown otherwise.”

Laura shifted her parasol to her other side so she might have a better look at the gentleman who approached. Chloe closed hers up and then swung it to and fro by the handle on her left side.

“Ah,” exclaimed Sir Augustus, as he met them on the walk. He raised an ornate quizzing glass to one eye to survey Chloe. “May I wish you happy, Lady Chloe? If I must, I shall be utterly devastated.”

Chloe bestowed a confused look on him. “No, indeed, sir. Wherever did you acquire such a notion?”

“Your parasol, ma’am. Swinging your parasol at your left side signifies to me that you are engaged.” He gave her an arch look with a knowing expression.

“Truly? How amusing. I had no idea a parasol could hold such meaning! I believe I must take lessons in this art, else I shall be sending all manner of messages I know nothing about,” she declared with a smile.

“Some of those French chaps offer lessons in that sort of thing—fans, parasols, handkerchiefs, and gloves. Amazing what can be learned from them.” He permitted his quizzing glass to swing idly from his superbly gloved fingers while studying Chloe with an intent gaze that soon made her uncomfortable.

“La, sir, and what does it mean when you dangle your quizzing glass from your fingers?” she ventured at last.

“Not a thing.” He instantly ceased and allowed the glass to fall against his waistcoat, where the dull gold chain gleamed softly against the ivory mull.

They exchanged a few pleasantries, then the girls went on their way while Sir Augustus headed in the direction of White’s, off Piccadilly on St. James’s Street and not far from the esteemed Hatchards and the environs of Green Park.

“And what animal or bird is Sir Augustus?” Laura inquired with a tilt of her head, looking at Chloe with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“A peacock?” Chloe said with a grin hastily smothered by her gloved hand.

Laura chuckled with appreciation at her friend’s wit.

“One thing, we had best use care how we behave with our handkerchief, the fan, our parasols, and above all our gloves,” Chloe admonished. “Heavens, we could be sending messages all over the place and not know a thing about it.”

The two girls exchanged amused looks, then at last went on their respective ways after promising to see each other that evening at the Robynhod party.

Hailing a hackney, for her grandmother deemed it an extravagance for Chloe to use the Town carriage, Chloe contemplated the day’s events.

She wished she might send word to St. Aubyn regarding her success with Grandmama. Of course she might then also have to explain that she had dropped that hint about the St. Aubyn fortune and the family jewels. These were not terribly important to Chloe, but she knew her grandmother set great store by such things.

Perhaps she could suggest she needed another lesson in flirting. Sir Augustus was amusing, but he did remind her of a point…Chloe was woefully ignorant on that subject. She dare not ask to have a French teacher of such skills. When Laura had told her how she had lined up with several girls to receive instruction on flirting with the fan, Chloe’s first reaction was to smile. Then she considered the matter and decided it would be no bad thing to know.

Once inside the house, and after sending Ellen up with her pelisse and bonnet, parasol and gloves, Chloe entered the drawing room.

Over by the window stood a gentleman with his back to her. He was garbed much as all the society gentlemen were—except this man wore an impeccably tailored gray coat over darker gray pantaloons, and leaned just a trifle on a fine malacca cane.

“Mr. St. Aubyn!” she declared with a rush of pleasure that surprised her. She almost felt as though she had conjured him up after thinking about him all the way home from Green Park.

He turned to face her, a smile lighting his face to make him even more handsome. Chloe experienced a sense of frustration, for she was such an unsophisticated girl compared to the women this gentleman usually sought for company. Could she converse with him without sounding utterly gauche?

“Lady Chloe,” he said with a faint bow, “I trust you had an enjoyable outing.”

“Miss Spayne and I took the air along Green Park after meeting at Hatchards.” With a slight glance at the open doorway, she added, “We had a very educational conversation.”

“Indeed?” He also looked at the door, apparently surmising that Chloe suspected that either her grandmother would shortly join them, or that one of the staff would eavesdrop on their chat.