Ridiculous (24 page)

“This reprehensible creature is the one of whom I spoke,” said the dowager before North could speak. “I have no understanding of how someone with no rank and such a weak chin could gain influence over my grandson, but there he is. A more degenerate, repulsive, reprobate individual you could hope never to meet. No doubt he will end his days dangling from a rope.”

Shoffer sighed and added. “Lady Jersey, my friend, Mr. Anthony North.”

North paused, rubbing his chin with his free hand. “Jersey? Jersey? Surely, I know that name. Ah, yes, one of the patronesses of that assembly place … what is its name? Oh, dear. It has quite escaped me.” He focused on the frowning woman. “But surely that cannot be you. I heard that was a woman of a certain age. You are far too young for such responsibility.”

Before Lady Jersey could reply the dowager snorted. “Do not think to ingratiate yourself with Lady Sally. Almack’s is one portal through which you shall not pass.”

North turned his head just enough to regard the dowager. “Surely, madam, I may have some aspiration to invitations. I may be not of noble blood, but I am of an old and respectable lineage. Added to that I may claim an annual income of twenty thousand pounds. Someone must marry those girls presented on the marriage mart. I dare to think that should I present myself, appropriately clad, at Almack’s door that the patronesses will pause a moment to consider my application before I am thrown to the curb.”

“Possibly,” said Lady Sally, causing the dowager to gasp and stare.

“You cannot be serious,” cried Lady Philomena. “This fellow is beyond the pale.”

But the words “twenty thousand pounds” had their own power. Lady Sally flicked a glance up and down North’s form, no doubt imagining him appropriately attired. Then she examined Shoffer’s face. Since the duke did not immediately declare North was exaggerating his fortune, Lady Sally’s eyes narrowed and she nodded to herself.

“What do you have to accuse him of?” asked the countess.

“Nothing at all,” replied Shoffer. “My grandmother is a snob and sees no virtue in friendship outside of the rarefied heights of our class. As I wish to have conversations with more than eight persons in the realm, I will consort with intelligent, educated persons even if they have no rank to dignify them.”

Shoffer could almost see the thoughts passing through Lady Jersey’s mind.

“In comparison to our own rank, yours is a recent creation,” Shoffer smiled. “I should not, in my grandmother’s opinion, be speaking to you. Nor should my sister attend Almack’s being that those gathered within those portals are so far beneath her that to speak to them would be a disgrace. A degradation. I am certain you have heard my grandmother say so.”

Shock and offense passed across Lady Sally’s face as she rose to her feet. “I am not…” she began.

“Of sufficiently ancient rank,” Shoffer nodded sympathetically. “Sadly, no. But all of London, except those few who share my grandmother’s preoccupation with rank, do not think less of you for your family history, Lady Jersey, despite your scandalous relatives. I shall continue to urge my sister to take advantage of your entertainments during the season. I cannot make the same promise for my grandmother.”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” protested the dowager, coming to her feet. “Your manners have degraded far further than I had feared. It is painfully clear you are not the appropriate person to promote Lady Elizabeth. I am certain Lady Sally would agree.”

“W…” began Lady Sally, but Mr. North stepped forward.

“Now, what is all this? Surely we have interrupted the ladies at tea, my dear duke. And here we are with birthday gifts for Lady Beth that are already late.”

“Of a certainty,” agreed Shoffer and pushed a brown paper and string wrapped parcel into Beth’s hands. “Here you are, my dearest sister. The first installment of the gift I promised you. Open it now, so we may admire the fit.”

Beth cast a baffled look in his direction, then crossed to place the heavy parcel on a nearby table. It was the work of a few minutes for her to unwrap and open the box within.

With a gasp Beth flung her arms about Shoffer’s neck and kissed his cheek.

“You remembered. You remembered. I feared you would not.”

“Of course, my dear Beth. I knew how important it was to you.”

“What do you have there, Shoffer?” demanded the dowager, attempting to peer around North’s obstructing body.

Beth reached into the satin lined box and pulled out a dueling pistol, turning it over and over in her small hands.

“Oh, Timothy, they are wonderful. Look at the chasing, so delicate!”

“Pistols!” shrieked the dowager. “Shoffer, do you intend to fully destroy Elizabeth’s reputation?”

Shoffer cast a narrow-eyed stare in her direction. “If Elizabeth chooses to take up shooting I have no doubt she shall bring it into fashion. But that is irrelevant. I have promised that she shall have a pistol for every day of the week, one to match each of her costumes and so she shall.”

Under the weight of his stare the dowager sank back. Beth clutched her new pistol in both hands and spine straight and chin up, faced her grandmother.

“I am sorry your visit will be of such short duration, Grand’Mere. Please have your secretary keep us apprised of which entertainments you choose to attend so that I may go elsewhere. There are so many hostesses and so few of ducal rank that we must distribute ourselves to the greatest effect. For now, I pray you will excuse me,” she smiled at Shoffer and North. “Come with me to my private sitting room, Timothy. I want you to help me display my new pistols to their best advantage.”

With that she proceeded from the room, Shoffer and North on her heels.

“I hope you will like the pistols I have chosen,” said North. “His Grace chose one of English manufacture, but mine are all the way from the Americas.”

“We were at war with the colonies,” said Shoffer.

“I am well aware of the uprising against the lawful overlordship of King George by those ungrateful colonists, but that does not mean that their guns are of poor workmanship!”

Beth led the way along the corridor and around a corner. A footman appeared to open a door for her. Before they could enter Beth’s sanctum rapid footsteps sounded behind them. They turned in time to see Lady Sally hurrying down the grand staircase and away.

“The gossip that we are estranged from the dowager will be all over London before the end of the day,” said Shoffer with some satisfaction.

“All the hostesses will know that if they want you to attend, dear brother, they may not invite Grand’Mere. Since you are unmarried and she is a harridan, I know who the hostesses will prefer.” Beth grinned broadly and waved her pistol toward the blue parlor. “She was so shocked when you gave me this weapon I thought her eyes would fall out of her face.”

North placed his parcel on a side table and crossed to stare out of a window.

“I hope this will not ruin your cousins’ chances of vouchers for Almack’s,” said Shoffer to North.

“Oh, fear not, we were not in expectation of such a thing or I would not have been so bold with her.” North smiled over his shoulder at them. “Wednesday will be, for my family, a day of rest while you suffer in overheated rooms, drink weak lemonade, and dance with giggling vir … young women.”

“Oh, but you must come with us,” cried Beth. “If you appear at the door in our train you will not be denied.”

North gave her a lopsided smile. “I have no wish to appear encroaching. Or more encroaching than we already appear. To do so would validate Her Grace’s opinion of me. No, do not worry about us, dear Lady Beth; we do not repine. Invitations to other entertainments are already arriving.”

“But…”

“There are other matters to discuss.” North gave Shoffer a speaking look.

Shoffer frowned. If there was something he had agreed on with North, then the events of the afternoon had quite driven it from his mind.

“I do not know if this is the best time.” North tried and failed to raise his pale eyebrows. “The armoire?”

Beth paled at the word and sank onto a tapestry chair, pistol clenched until her knuckles were white. Shoffer considered, briefly, dismissing his friend’s advice. Beth was too affected and should be permitted to keep her own counsel. Time would make that horrible episode fade in her memory. Reminding her of it would do no good, of that he was certain.

 “My dear,” Shoffer covered her hand with his own. “Do not think on it. I urge you; put it out from your mind. It will never happen again. I am certain once she gave the matter some thought, Grand’Mere regretted doing that to you.”

Beth burst into tears. Shoffer cast an angry glance toward his friend. They should have left the matter alone since reminding her only distressed Beth. North’s face was set and stern even in the face of the tears.

“Dear Lady Beth,” said North. “How many times did…”

“I lost count!” cried Beth.

“Oh, God!” Shoffer wrapped his arms around his sister and held her close. “Dear girl, I am so sorry.”

“I never knew what would cause it. A word, a look and I would be locked in.”

“Where?” asked North calmly.

“Always in Grand’Mere’s armoire. When she put me in I must be quiet as a mouse. If she heard me moving about, waking her in the night, she would hit the armoire with her father’s cane. If I ruined her clothes she would shout and shout.”

“You will never live with her again.” Shoffer tightened his grip on Beth’s shoulders, marveling at how tiny she was. He had left this fragile person in the claws of her grandmother and never thought to check whether she was happy. He might never forgive himself. “Do not think on it. You are safe now.”

“I was worried that you would be ashamed of me. Angry at me.”

“You were wronged, my love. I should never be angry with you for this.”

“I need you to teach me to shoot really well. If she comes near me again, I shall … shoot the feather out of her hat!”

Mr. North laughed. “She has grown her claws, our little golden kitten. We should take care not to offend her.”

“Oh, you do not need to be afraid,” said Beth, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “I would never shoot you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Lady Beth and thank you. I shall leave my gift for you to examine later.” So saying, North rose to his feet.

“No, you cannot leave yet. Stay a while. Until my grandmother leaves, at least.”

“So kind an invitation, but I cannot.”

“But…” Beth reached a hand to the departing North.

Shoffer caught it and drew Beth’s attention to himself.

“My dear sister, Mr. North must go. We have much to discuss, you and me. Alone and private. I wish to know all that the dowager did to you. I must know the whole no matter how painful it may be for you to remember and for me to hear it. In future when I promise to protect you, to see to it you do not suffer at the dowager’s hand, I want you to know that I understand the extent and shape of what I am promising.”

So saying, Shoffer handed over a larger handkerchief to replace the scrap of lace Beth was pressing to her face. North, wise fool that he was, slipped from the room and faded away.

Aside from deciding he should thank the man in the morning, Shoffer put him from his mind and concentrated on his sister. By the time Beth had finished explaining all that had happened to her, he was ready to have the magistrate arrest the dowager and throw her into Newgate prison. Since that particular satisfaction was denied him, Shoffer growled and grumbled and let the matter settle into the back of his mind.

This, all this, was the reason his sister did not trust him. Damn that woman. Lady Philomena was never again to be alone with his sister.

* * *

The next night Shoffer took up the Boarder family and extended his invitation to a soirée to include them. Mr. North spent part of the evening deconstructing the subject of feathers. Feathered hats, feathered fans, feathered fashions, all were subjected to his wit. The following evening they all attended a musicale where during the intermission Mr. North expounded on his theory that it was a deaf, bald gentleman who liked to comb his one remaining long hair with a narrow comb who accidentally invented the violin.

The next night they attended a ball where Mr. North tried to teach how to judge if someone were an Englishman, a Scots, or a Welshman by the way they dismounted a horse. Each night more people sought him out and hung on his every word.

On the fourth day when the Boarder family gathered for luncheon, Millicent stared in astonishment at the huge pile of gilt edged pasteboards Merit carried in on a silver salver.

“Good Lord.” Millicent lifted one, then another invitation. “Who would have thought there to be this many parties being held in London?”

“The season is begun, Mr. North,” said Felicity, rising to run her hands through the pile. “This is all due to the duke. I hope you will thank him for us.”

“And the Beau,” said Maude. “Mr. Wentworth informed me that the Beau referred to us as ‘charming.’”

“He said the same of Lady Beth,” said Mildred. “We shall have to coordinate with her. We should make a list of the invitations we have received and see which ones we have that match.”

Felicity resumed her place and, ignoring her food, started shifting through the pile.

“We should not assume that His Grace will take us in his carriage. Indeed, I would prefer he did not. We do not wish to appear country cousins to him and the other evening when I was ready to go home His Grace and Lady Beth were about to go on to another party.” Felicity fixed Millicent with a piercing stare. “We should have our own carriage.”

Millicent sighed and concentrated on her meal. Another expense. Still, she could not bring herself to deny her mother and sisters anything they required for the London season. Guilt made her generous. Guilt from knowing she still had not told them about the late Christopher North’s will and their lack of dowries.

As yet no gentlemen approached her asking about settlements and expectations and as long as no one did, she would avoid discussing the matter with her family. At least until she had thought of a solution.