Miss Cresswell's London Triumph (3 page)

"It's Miss Cassie and Master Freddie all over again," she remarked to no one in particular, shaking her head as she went back to rolling out pastry for a game pie. "Still and all, it's nice to have some activity around here once more," she addressed the kitchen clock, which remained obstinately mute.

Activity of a less drastic and certainly more social nature was the topic of discussion among the three ladies decorating the church for Sunday. Frances, Sir Lucius Taylor's wife, and his youngest daughter, the celebrated and, if Cassie's opinions were to be noted, infamous Arabella, were busily adding greens to complete the handsome arrangements in large vases of the church's rather severe altar.

"Will Cassie be joining you in London this Season?" Lady Taylor inquired, stepping back to admire the effect of a carefully placed sprig of lavender.

"Yes. We shall all be going up this time, though I fear we shall miss Freddie's company dreadfully. Brothers do come so in handy at a time like this—if not for their value as a partner of last resort, then for the friends they bring with them. Not that Cassie is in the least shy, but one always feels safer in numbers at first."

Arabella, always more than willing to discuss the resounding success of her first Season, broke in, "If I said to Mama once, I must have said it a thousand times last year before we left Hampshire, If only, dear Mama, you had been fit to provide me with older brothers instead of sisters, I should feel a good deal easier in my mind about my first ball.' I am sure I wished times out of mind that Edwina were an Edward before my first evening at Almack's. She is naturally very dear to me, but as a partner or friend of possible partners she was quite useless." Thus Arabella ruthlessly dismissed one of the ton's most dashing matrons with a shrug of her pretty shoulders. It was a gesture that had once caused one lovelorn swain to label her "Cruel Disdain" and she seized every opportunity to practice it. "At any rate, I learned how to go on in no time at all and I had the most famous time. Didn't I, Mama?"

This was that worthy lady's cue to expound on the brilliance of her daughter's Season: how Lord such-a-one had hailed her as a diamond of the first water, how the Marquess so-and-so had disagreed, calling her instead an incomparable; how young Viscount this-and-that had been instantly struck by her beauty and positively haunted their house in Berkeley Square. All through the recital Arabella looked sweetly conscious until Frances was ready to wring the soft white neck which made such a perfect foil for the dusky curls. She was able to forbear, however, and with a great effort of will, she refrained from inquiring about any suitors, the absence of which had been quite noticeable during Arabella's return to Hampshire.

Such an unfair question would have elicited the gayest of inconsequential laughter and the amused reply that "of course Papa and Mama say I'm far too young to be settling down no matter how hard any gentleman may press his suit." The truth of the matter was that Arabella was aiming higher than any of the eligible but none-too-bnlliant matches that had presented themselves. It had been a disappointment not to have netted a truly grand fish, but after all, it had only been her first Season, and these things take time. Arabella was determined to take no less than a marquess. After all, one had to have one's standards. But in spite of enjoying all the advantages of youth, beauty, and wealth, Arabella was laboring under the distinct disadvantage of being the daughter of a minor baronet and a woman who, though prettily enough behaved, had brought to her marriage a great deal of money earned in trade. It would have taken far more address and sophistication than Arabella possessed to erase these two flaws from the mind of a truly brilliant catch.

If Cassie, ensconced once again in her favorite chair in the library, could have been privy to all this, she would have felt a great deal happier about the projected Season, but knowing the type of person Arabella was, and knowing that she had been hailed as a great success in the metropolis, filled her with foreboding. For it seemed to her that a society which admired someone such as Arabella Taylor would never accept someone like Lady Cassandra Cresswell. Nor would she ever feel anything but uncomfortable or bored among such people. If only she had one friend and confidante, it wouldn't be so bad. Of course she did have Fanny and Lord Mainwaring, Ned's sister Lady Kitty Willoughby, and Lord Mainwaring's cousin, Lady Streatham, who had been so supportive of Fanny when she was in London for Kitty's come-out, but having them wasn't the same as having someone of one's own age and experience. It made her miss Ned and Freddie even more dreadfully. But she supposed that Frances was in the right of it. She couldn't molder forever in Hampshire with her books, going out in society less and less until she became nothing but an ape-leader.

Dearly as she loved her aunt Harriet, she could see that the lady's particular quirks and rather prickly personality had developed over the course of the years during her brother's absence in Greece, when she had been alone at Cresswell devoting herself to her orchids. It was not that she had been lonely, because her horticultural interests were her consuming passion. But this passion had led her to ignore all else, and so when she was forced into contact with society at large, she was most uncomfortable. True, she had little use for anyone, and even less use for fools, whom she considered to be the bulk of humanity, but Cassie had often thought it too bad that she didn't seem truly to love anybody. Of course, she cared a great deal about what happened to Frances and the twins, but she did not miss them when they were gone, and was only tangentially involved with them as their paths crossed at meals or during the course of the day. Though she knew Aunt Harriet was perfectly happy with her existence, and though it was a relief to know at least one woman whose entire life did not revolve around men, Cassie sometimes felt sad for her.

Not that her sister Frances's life revolved around men. She continued to write and publish her own books and maintained her own separate existence as an author, but Cassie could see that there were times when she gave up her own work to join Lord Mainwaring or Theodore in something that interested them. If only there were some middle ground between being an eccentric recluse or plunging headlong into society, but there did not seem to be. Men could enter politics or the army and thus pursue an interest among companions of similar dispositions, but there was nothing for someone like Cassie, who remained at a loss about how she was to go on in life. She supposed that Frances was correct, and that having lived buried at Cresswell with her books, she ought to try London to see what the alternatives were.

When Lady Frances returned for tea, Cassie was able to tell her that having thought it over, she could now be easy in her mind about going to London.

"I'm glad, dear." Frances smiled at her younger sister's wrinkled brow and worried eyes. "I think youll find enough there to interest you that you won't be forced to devote your entire existence to dressing and promenading at this ball or that rout. After all, Julian and I shall be there, and we have no more patience with worthless fribbles than you do. And not everyone is like Arabella. She came along with her mama this afternoon. What a frivolous thing she is, to be sure! I wonder at her success. But then, the only lips I have heard speak of her triumphs have been hers. At any rate, I shall write the comte directly and then see to it that the household has plenty of time to prepare before we depart. At least I do not have to worry about cajoling Aunt Harriet into coming or wonder how we shall transport her darlings to London as I did when we went up to London for Kitty's come-out. By the by, where are Wellington and Nelson? They never miss an opportunity to chase each other at teatime. Nurse said that Teddy had his tea early. When three such rambunctious characters are so quiet, I begin to have my suspicions."

Cassie regaled her with the afternoon's adventure, much to her sister's amusement.

"I can see that with Nelson and Wellington to egg him on, Teddy is bound to fall into as many scrapes as you and Freddie put together. Well, I must go meet this Ethelred, who has already managed to cause such a commotion in a household much accustomed to dealing with upheaval."

Lady Frances' organization being what it was, the entire household was soon ensconced in Mainwaring House in Grosvenor Square. When Frances and Lord Mainwaring had first been married they had lived in the Cresswells' house on Brook Street, leaving his mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Camberly, to reign in state in Grosvenor Square. Lord Mainwaring had been more than happy to vacate what he more often than not termed "that gloomy pile" so his mother could entertain the other town tabbies to tea in style. It was Mainwaring's expressed opinion that more marriages had been made and more reputations launched or ruined in that stately drawing room than in any other in all of England. At this mother's death and upon his assumption of political duties, the marquess had reluctantly moved back—"But only on the condition that you make it fit for human habitation, my love," he had admonished Frances.

Frances, following the taste for simplicity, lightness, and elegance derived from her childhood spent among the glories of classical antiquity, had transformed the somber mansion into a dwelling that combined elegance with graciousness, and created an atmosphere which was both welcoming and restful to all and sundry—politicians, Corinthians, society matrons, and the select few among the Upper Ten Thousand whom the Mainwarings counted among their friends.

It was upon the threshold of this august residence one day in late March that the entourage from Cresswell descended to be welcomed by Higgins the butler and the staff, whom he had assembled in the front hall. "Hurrah! Hurrah! We're here at last," shouted Teddy, who despite having been allowed to ride the entire distance on the box with John Coachman, still possessed an excess of high spirits.

"Arf! Arfl" echoed Wellington, who had also ridden on the box and, like his newly adopted playmate, was in fine fettle. Nelson, having endured the journey nursing a queasy stomach nestled against the squabs of the Mainwarings' beautifully sprung traveling carriage, descended in a more leisurely manner, tail aloft, delicately sniffing and evaluating the town scents which assailed him. At this point, Ethelred, who had slept quietly in a basket on Cassie's lap, woke up and demanded to be set free. With a loud quack and several flaps of yet unformed wings, he hopped down, beady

eyes eager to take in all the new sights. Catching sight of their protege, Wellington and Nelson instantly forgot their delight at being set free in the metropolis and, adopting the most jaded of airs, sauntered in a blase fashion toward the stables with Ethelred and Teddy in hot pursuit.

"I daresay they shall have the place at sixes and sevens in no short while," Frances observed as she descended, a bandbox in one hand, to greet the staff. Cassie, clutching Ethelred's now deserted basket, followed suit, and with Higgins's assistance the travelers were soon ensconced comfortably in the drawing room in front of a well-laden tea tray and a welcoming fire.

In no short order, Wellington, Nelson, Teddy, and Ethelred appeared. Having explored the nether regions and discovered there that tea had already been sent upstairs, they had lost no time in hastening to the scene. Wellington and Nelson took up their accustomed places on either side of the fire while Ethelred padded around snapping at a curtain tassel here, pecking at a design on the rug there, until he was entirely satisfied with his new surroundings. He then joined his friends by the fireplace, where all three, along with Theodore, concentrated on the tea table.

As Theodore, consuming a hot buttered crumpet, expounded on the wonders of the stables, Frances absently nibbled a scone and perused a stack of gilt-edged invitations. Such abstraction made an ideal situation for the crumb-snatching brigade which watched every gesture of Teddy's that scattered bits of crumpet or every piece of scone that fell unnoticed from Frances's hand as she sorted through the mail. In fact, Cassie was the only one doing justice to the beautiful array that Higgins had brought in.

"Itth a bang up thtable, Cathie, though it doethn't hold a candle to the one at Crethwell," enthused Teddy, sending an irresistible shower of crumbs in Ethelred's direction. The little duck pecked happily until the other two, unable to restrain themselves, pounced at the same time on a large piece that had dropped beyond his reach under the cake stand.

"Cassie, my love, here is a card for Lady Delamere's rout tomorrow evening. That should do quite well for your first introduction to the ton,* Frances remarked, not bothering to look up from her correspondence as she automatically caught the cake stand, which teetered precariously after Wellington's dive for the crumb. "Her affairs are always quite brilliant, though it's sure to be a sad crush so early in the Season. There is no time to have Madame Regnery make up anything new for you, but your white gauze with the blue satin pipings that we had made for the Alton assembly should do very well. It was fortunate that the snow made it impossible to attend."

"Teddy, if you eat another crumpet, youll become ill," Cassie admonished before turning an anxious face toward Frances. "That dress may have done very well in Hampshire, but are you quite certain it will do for London?"

"Of course, love. It's very simple, but the lines are quite elegant and you're so lovely that you don't need rosettes and ruchings to disguise your flaws." Frances smiled fondly at her younger sister.

"Oh, give over. Fanny, do. You know that brunettes are all the rage and blondes sadly out of fashion now. At any rate, blondes are supposed to have complexions of peaches and cream." Cassie made a face in the gilt-framed mirror over the fireplace. "And despite the quantities of almond paste that Rose insists I use on them, my freckles will persist in appearing." Here Cassie wrinkled a beautifully straight nose, whose only flaw was its light sprinkling of freckles. Though it was not a face that exhibited the rosebud lips, velvet brown eyes, and delicately rounded chin that were all the rage, it was one that reflected far more character than those commonly encountered. The eyes were a brilliant dark sapphire, revealing a sparkle of humor in their depths which had disconcerted more than one self-satisfied young buck. Her hair was gold rather than blond and showed a definite tendency to break out into curls unless taken severely to task. The chin was a trifle determined for the taste of most amorous swains, but its challenge was softened by a generous mouth that hinted at a passionate nature below the surface. It was a vivacious face, which created a first impression of vitality and interest, and it caught the attention of those sensitive or clever enough to recognize the intelligence and strength of character that lay behind it. But even those who failed to appreciate the promise of a keen mind and a lively sense of humor rated Lady Cassandra Cresswell a very taking thing.