Jane Ashford (20 page)

“The defensive?”

“Yes. He is very much sought after, not just by matchmaking mamas, but by everyone. For some reason, Giles is all the crack, in spite of his sometimes appalling rudeness. And so he is forced to hold people at arm’s length, so as not to be overwhelmed, you see. And he is not at all good at it. I have seen it done with such address that the poor object does not even know he has been snubbed, but Giles can’t seem to get in the way of it. I have seen exchanges like that one with the poor Deming child time after time.” She shook her head.

Euphie digested this in silence for a space. Then she said, “You did not introduce me to the other woman there.”

The countess’s chin came up. “I did not. And I shan’t, either.”

Her tone was truculent, and Euphie had to be content with this rather uninformative dismissal.

When they reached home, the footman let down the carriage steps and helped Lady Fanshawe down, and Jenkins threw open the front doors. As Euphie walked inside, the butler stopped her. “A letter came for you while you were out, Miss Hartington. Brought by special messenger.” He held out an envelope.

Thinking at once of Thalia, Euphie took it and tore it open. The note covered one full page, and she began to scan it rapidly. As she read, her eyes gradually widened, and finally she looked up with an expression of astonishment.

“What is it, dear?” said the countess. “Nothing is wrong, I hope?”

“No. It is all right. It is all all right somehow.” Euphie sounded dazed.

“What is all right?”

“Everything!”

Frowning, Lady Fanshawe took her arm and began to lead her up the stairs. “Come to the drawing room this minute and explain what you mean.”

In the drawing room, the countess pushed Euphie into an armchair and sat down opposite her. “Now, then.”

A bit more composed, Euphie heaved a happy sigh and said, “The letter is from my sisters, both of them. They are back home, and they say there was a mistake over my aunt’s will. I don’t understand all the details, but she left us something after all, quite a lot of money, Aggie says.”

For just a moment Lady Fanshawe’s face showed chagrin; then she smiled and said, “My dear child, how wonderful.”

Euphie nodded. “And Aggie and Thalia are coming to London. That is why they did not call me home too. They ask me to find hotel rooms for them. We are to have our own house and spend the season here.” She sighed again. “Oh, I can hardly believe it. It seems too perfect.” Then she sat up straight. “Do you know a good hotel, Lady Fanshawe? One suitable for Aggie and Thalia? I must see about it first thing tomorrow.”

“But, my dear, they must come to stay here. I insist. I won’t have your sisters going to a hotel.”

“Oh, but you have done so much.”

The countess waved this aside. “I have a strong desire to see your sisters, in any case. You will write tomorrow and ask them here.” The very slight disappointment in her ladyship’s eyes had disappeared. “I positively insist.”

Euphie hesitated, then smiled. “Thank you,” she replied. “I will.”

After a flurry of letters between Euphie and her sisters, it was settled that they would stay with Lady Fanshawe for the present. And the two older girls arrived by private chaise on a warm late-spring afternoon when the countess was taking her post-luncheon rest. Their reunion was tender, and they were grateful to be left to themselves for a while, to pour out the stories of their weeks apart. Euphie and Thalia heard about the Wellfleets and their kindness and were pleased to know that they would have an opportunity to meet this amiable couple in London. Aggie and Euphie expressed outrage at Thalia’s tale, the latter wishing to write a stiff letter to Mrs. Elguard. The older girls discouraged her, but when Euphie told them that Lady Agnes Crewe and Mary Deming were now in London and described her encounter with them, Thalia’s green eyes glinted ominously. Finally, Euphie told them about her time in town, and Lady Fanshawe’s kindness to her. “She hopes we will stay here for the season,” finished the youngest sister. “I told her I must wait and see.”

Aggie nodded “She may change her mind now that we are all three on her hands.”

Euphie bounced in her chair. “But tell me about Aunt’s will. What happened? Why did you not call me home?”

“I started to,” replied Aggie. “But by then I had decided to come to London, and Mr. Gaines had everything so well in hand that I really needed no help. So I just summoned Thalia, and we came on to you here.”

“What a relief it was to get that summons,” put in Thalia.

“But the will?”

Thalia grinned. “There
was
a later one, after all. You will never guess how it came to light.”

“I don’t want to guess! Tell me.”

“Hannibal found it!” Thalia’s eyes twinkled. “Aunt Elvira must have been reading it just before she died, because it had slipped far down behind the cushion of her armchair. Hannibal was clawing at the chair one day, and he uncovered the document.” She choked. “He chewed it up a bit, but it was still readable when the maid came upon him. She sent for Mr. Gaines, and he summoned Aggie.”

Euphie had dissolved into laughter. “Aunt would be so pleased,” she gasped out.

Thalia began to laugh too. She nodded.

Aggie smiled and shook her head at them. “At any rate, Euphie, Aunt Elvira left us half her fortune, and the cats the other half. Since she apparently had an immense amount of money, that leaves all of us very well off indeed.”

Euphie sighed happily. “How comfortable.”

“Isn’t it?” agreed Thalia.

“And… and so, I thought you would wish to spend a season in London, you and Thalia, I mean. You must have a proper ‘come-out.’”

“You too,” replied Euphie. “Or you first, I should say. Perhaps… perhaps I should wait a year.” She made this heroic suggestion with only the slightest tremor in her voice.

“No,” snapped Aggie, surprising them all.

“What is it?” asked the middle sister. She turned to Euphie. “Something is wrong with Aggie. I’ve sensed it since I went home again. But she won’t tell me.”

“There is nothing wrong! And no one will wait a year for anything. We must all come out at once, I suppose.”

The other two looked at her with concern. It was quite unlike their even-tempered older sister to snap like this. Euphie started to speak, but a subtle signal from Thalia stopped her. She frowned, then said, “Well, that will be a nine days’ wonder. I daresay we will make a hit.”

“I don’t know that I want to,” answered Thalia.

“Of course you do. It will be great fun.”

Before Thalia could reply, there was a sound from the doorway of the drawing room, and all three sisters turned at once.

Lady Fanshawe was just coming in, and they smiled and rose. The countess, seeing them, stood stock-still, her hand on the doorknob, her eyes wide.

Lady Fanshawe had naturally thought Euphie a very pretty girl indeed, and when she had considered the matter, she supposed that her sisters would be pretty as well. But none of her speculations had prepared her for the dazzling sight that now met her eyes. Separately, each of the Hartington girls was striking, but when they stood together, the effect seemed to be multiplied much more than three times, and they were astonishing.

“Oh, my dears,” said Lady Fanshawe when she found her voice, “I shall give a ball. I positively
must
give a ball at once!” She came into the room dazedly, as one who sees a heavenly vision, forgetting to close the door behind her. Pug trotted in at her heels.

Aggie and Thalia exchanged an amused glance as Euphie made the introductions.

When everyone had sat down again, the countess looked from one to the other, shaking her head. “Have you any idea how lovely you are?” she said finally. “You three are going to set London on its ear, and if you don’t allow me to help you, I shall never recover from the disappointment.”

Thalia laughed, then quickly suppressed it.

But Lady Fanshawe merely nodded at her and smiled. “Yes, I daresay I sound quite demented. I don’t think you have any idea of the effect you create together.”

“Effect?” echoed Aggie, a little bewildered.

“Never mind. Just do say that I may give a ball in your honor, to present you to society. Grant me only that.”

The sisters looked at one another. “That’s very kind of you, Lady Fanshawe,” began Aggie, “but—”

“You will need a sponsor, you know. It is difficult to meet members of the ton without an introduction, even when your connections are good. And a ball is the only proper way to begin a come-out. Really.”

She looked so eager that the girls did not know how to refuse. Aggie again glanced at the others, and seeing no objection in their eyes, she shrugged and said, “You
are
kind. Very well, we accept, but you must let us share the expense with you.”

The countess brushed this irrelevant concern aside. “It must be as soon as possible, and I think you should not show yourselves in town until then. What a coup it will be!”

Thalia frowned. “Not show ourselves? But I want to get some clothes, and have my hair cut.” She put a hand up to her braids, still wound about her head. “Aggie and Euphie are ahead of me there.”

“Oh, as to that, of course you will all wish to shop. I only meant that you should not attend any ton parties before the ball.”

Thalia laughed. “Well, that is easy enough, as we are not invited to any.”

“Splendid! I shall send out invitations today. How surprised everyone will be. I have not entertained in years. They will all come, out of curiosity. And then, we will have them, my dears.” She chuckled. “What fun it will be to see some of the faces. I can scarcely wait.”

The girls exchanged another amused glance, and in the far corner of the drawing room, Pug began to howl piteously.

All of them started and turned to see the dog backed into the corner, facing three varicolored balls of fur. Brutus, Juvenal, and Nero had found a collective sport which apparently dissolved any lingering suspicion among them. When first reintroduced after their separation, the kittens had shown little enthusiasm, but this was apparently a thing of the past. They advanced in a united front. Pug, at this multiplication of the terror of his existence, had completely collapsed. He cowered in the corner, making no effort to defend himself from the kittens’ playful onslaught.

“Brutus!” said Aggie.

“Juvenal!” snapped Thalia.

“Nero, you beast!” cried Euphie, all in the same moment.

They went to retrieve the cats, holding them up and reprimanding them severely, but Pug’s nerves were too shaken to enjoy this spectacle. He continued to huddle miserably on the carpet and howl.

“Blast that dog,” said Lady Fanshawe finally. “This is beyond anything. I am sending him back to my daughter tomorrow.”

“No, no,” replied Aggie, “it is we who must do something about the cats. It is your house.” A sudden vision of Brutus on a small scrap of wood, floating down a swift stream, rose before her eyes. She watched a tall young man step out to retrieve him, and her voice trailed off.

“Yes,” put in Thalia, “we should…” But remembering Juvenal bounding through a forest to find a hidden glade, she too fell silent.

“No, I have made up my mind,” said the countess, to several people’s profound relief. “Pug must go. He has been clinging to me like a drowning man for days, and it is driving me distracted.”

There was a pause. They all looked at the miserable Pug. He had stopped howling finally, but he still groveled and slobbered on the rug. None of them could feel truly sorry that he was to go.

“Tomorrow,” repeated Lady Fanshawe. “And now Jenkins must shut him up somewhere where the cats cannot get at him.” She went over and rang the bell.

When this had been done, and Brutus, Juvenal, and Nero set free once more, the countess became absorbed in plans for her ball. These were lavish, and the sisters were soon pulled in to help her. The afternoon passed quickly in this way, and all of them were surprised when they found it was time to change for dinner.

The next two weeks were a whirl of activity. The girls were first put in the hands of an expert haircutter, who achieved similar but slightly different styles for them under Lady Fanshawe’s jealous eye. The general effect, on each, was of a cloud of russet curls, and the countess clasped her hands in joy when she saw them side by side. There were also innumerable expeditions to Bond Street, most particularly to the exclusive shop of a Frenchwoman who was commissioned to create wardrobes for the sisters. Her ecstasy at this assignment exceeded even Lady Fanshawe’s, and she entered into it with such enthusiasm that the girls’ heads were soon reeling from talk of French braid and Russian sleeves, silk lace and flounced hems, and countless other embellishments of which they had never heard. Soon, boxes began to arrive at Lady Fanshawe’s house, and before long, each of their bedrooms was a wilderness of silver paper and new gowns.

The countess received a flattering number of acceptances to her ball, in spite of the lateness of the invitations. The ton was indeed curious to see why she had come out of her self-imposed seclusion. She had made no mention of the Hartingtons on the cards, against custom, for she insisted that she would startle London. She did let it be known that she was presenting some young friends, and this mystery only increased the ton’s urge to attend.

Three days before the event, all was ready. The gowns had been sewn, the flowers and refreshments ordered, and the ballroom was being scoured from top to bottom. The countess and the girls sat in the drawing room after another morning of shopping, and all of them looked fatigued. “None of us,” Lady Fanshawe ordered, “must do another thing before the ball. We must rest the whole time, so as to be ready.”

Euphie laughed. “I don’t think I
can
. After all the excitement of the last two weeks, I am too agitated.”

“I know, dear, I feel the same myself, I could hardly keep from snapping at Giles yesterday when he came to see what I was up to.” She smiled. “But I didn’t tell him. He may have his own ideas about this ball, but he knows nothing for certain.”

“I didn’t know he had called,” replied Euphie in a colorless voice that made her sisters turn to look at her.

“Oh, yes. You were all out at Madame Verdoux’s. He heard the rumors flying about town, of course, but I told him nothing to the purpose.” She smiled again.

Euphie was spared from answering by the appearance of Jenkins. “A gentleman and a lady have called, ma’am,” he said, handing Lady Fanshawe a visiting card.

“Oh, dear.” She took it and read the names. “That’s all right. It’s the Wellfleets. Those are your friends, aren’t they, Aggie?”

“Yes.” The older girl rose. “Oh, how good it will be to see them.”

The countess nodded. “Ask them to come up, Jenkins.” And as Aggie started to follow the butler, she added, “My dear, will you do me a kindness?”

Aggie paused. “Of course.”

“Would you just stand here, with Thalia and Euphie? There, like that, side by side?” She lined them up near the fireplace, ignoring their puzzled looks. “Yes, that’s it.” The countess stood back. The Hartington sisters wore similar gowns of pale primrose muslin this morning; Lady Fanshawe had been encouraging them to dress alike, though they resisted. The dresses were simple, but elegant, and they brought out the deep blue and greens of their eyes. Their auburn hair was curled and shining, and altogether they made a dazzling picture. “Yes,” said the countess again. “Stay there. I want to try an experiment.” She stepped back and sat down as the girls looked at one another. And in the next moment the Wellfleets walked into the drawing room.

They stopped on the threshold. Alex Wellfleet looked stunned, and Anne opened her large blue eyes even wider, then clapped her hands. “Oh, you are the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen,” she cried. “Aggie, why didn’t you tell me?”

Unsure what she was supposed to have told, Aggie came forward and greeted them warmly, introducing the countess and her sisters and begging them to sit down. Lady Fanshawe looked very pleased with herself.

Mr. Wellfleet noticed it. “I congratulate you,” he told her. “You will overset polite society.”

Lady Fanshawe smiled back at him. “I mean to.”

“What a lovely journey we had,” Anne Wellfleet was saying. “The weather was perfect, and we stopped at the most cunning little inn. I am so excited to be in town. It has been three seasons since we came up. Your ball is the first event we attend,” she told the countess. “I was so looking forward to it, and now, I can’t bear to wait.” She looked at the Hartington sisters again. “You will have every young man in London at your feet. Oh, I am so happy.” She clapped her hands again.

“I hope not,” responded Thalia. “Think how hard it would be to walk.”

Alex laughed, as did his wife after staring at Thalia for a moment. “You must be the clever one,” she said, bringing a look of chagrin to the girl’s face. “And you,” she told Euphie, “the musical one.”

Euphie laughed and bowed slightly.

“What a family. I do wish you had convinced John Dudley to come with us, Alex. He would have enjoyed himself, I know.”