The House in Grosvenor Square (8 page)

It occurred to her that Mrs. Southcott might take her interest for an endorsement, but Ariana would have to take that chance. As soon as his lordship had taken leave, Ariana went to her chamber and wrote the letter at once.

T
hat evening at the O'Brien's house on Blandford Street, Westminster, the talk was more animated than usual. In addition to discussing the elegance of the Paragon's home, while they sat in the parlour listening to Miss O'Brien play the pianoforte from the next room, Miss Beatrice Forsythe was also regaling them with her most decided opinions. She was delighted to be the sole guest of the family and the centre, therefore, of attention. This, combined with the family's determination to be pleased with her, ensured an agreeable arrangement.

Feeling at home, Beatrice gave her audience a firsthand account of her fondness for Peter. It was her determination to soothe his dashed hopes for her sister by marrying him herself, at the earliest age of consent. All this caused Peter to purse his lips and shake his head at her fondly. If he had not already apprised his family of Beatrice's sentiments, it might have been a shocking pronouncement.

Mr. Ian O'Brien, the eldest son, was home on shore leave and perhaps derived the greatest pleasure of them all with their guest, having now discovered a pleasant way to plague his sibling at every turn. He had merely to hint to Peter of his future “engagement” and that it was now a matter of honour, and there would be no escaping it.

Ian, in fact, could hardly contain his laughter, which caused Peter to lean in closely to his brother and deny any such declarations. Beatrice had spoken so earnestly to Mrs. O'Brien that the lady could only nod, amused. The girl, after all, was only twelve. No sense in dashing her hopes when age and maturity would set all to rights.

And if it did not? Mrs. O'Brien would not object to her son's connexion with a Forsythe—her sister was marrying the Paragon. Her aunt was Mrs.
Bentley, well-known and respected. Beatrice was perhaps too outspoken for one so young, but was not her elder sister also known for her forthrightness? She could not wholly dislike the trait.

Before the night had ended, it was determined that Miss Beatrice's stay with the family was a triumphant idea. The invitation was extended to the end of the season.

Peter chafed at the thought of having his young admirer on hand day and night, but he felt her presence to be a link, however feeble, to that of the elder Miss Forsythe. With that in mind, he could countenance it with equanimity.

Ariana's letter requesting a new set of writings from Mrs. Southcott had some unforeseen aftereffects. Mrs. Southcott, not being told of the demise of the first set of writings, assumed that the young lady wanted another copy to give to someone else, which she was happy to provide that very day. She also provided her friends (those who had not abandoned her, in any case) with the news that a new benefactress had been discovered. Mrs. Southcott hadn't received a shilling yet, she had to allow, but Miss Forsythe had asked for another copy of her writings! What could be more apparent than that she regarded Mrs. Southcott's cause favorably?

The two ladies who had accompanied Joanna Southcott also did their part in passing around the
on-dit
that Miss Forsythe had been friendly toward them. With remarkable speed, they mentioned it to their little circle of nonconformists. From there, who knows how it spread? But within hours it seemed that every outcast from traditional religion, those whom the Church of England did not approve of or wholly embrace for one reason or another, sent a solicitor or an emissary to Hanover Square, seeking support for their cause.

In a matter of days, yet more charities and causes somehow learned of this new philanthropist, and then word spread further so that even many of the traditional and orthodox charities threw in their invitations to fund-raising events. The sparkling salver in the hall at Hanover Square overflowed with correspondence near twice a day. And many representatives of these places came in person to try to see Miss Forsythe.

Haines had been given an earnest combing for having allowed Mrs. Southcott in the door, and so he was more than prepared to handle solicitations
when they arrived. Due to his authority as the butler, he easily fended off all such persons. Even if Miss Forsythe was in the breakfast room or ground-floor sitting room, she never knew of their attempts to see her.

For all his soft-heartedness, Haines was very serious about his role as butler. He was the gatekeeper. His was the best defense the household had against the wrong sort of people who might try to gain entry. To Mrs. Bentley's mind, ever since Mrs. Southcott had dared to call, anyone having to do with a charitable organization—of any sort—must be denied access. Therefore, no matter how legitimate the cause, such as when the British and Foreign Bible Society called, hoping to speak with Miss Forsythe, Haines replied, “Certainly not! Be off with you!” Neither would he accept a card.

Such a reception was not encouraging, to be sure, but neither was it sufficient in and of itself to completely dissuade charities from trying their luck in some other way. Therefore, letters went out to Hanover Square and, to be safe, Grosvenor Square too. Word on the street was that the soon-to-be wife of the Paragon was philanthropically minded, and somehow this message reached the ears that were most interested in it. More missives went forth, courtesy of messengers or the London mail.

It was easy to turn away letters that came by mail and had not been paid on despatch. At the same time, living emissaries, who had been turned away at Hanover Square, went in a determined course toward Grosvenor Square. A small ripple at first seemed to quickly become a steady wave. More and more gentlemen and women knocked at the door, seeking support for a cause. Not a one got past Frederick to the master, but cards and letters did.

Mr. Mornay deduced quickly that Ariana had a hand in his sudden popularity with the charitable institutions of the city (indeed, more organizations than he knew had ever existed!). He did not wish to upbraid her for it. But one afternoon, Frederick came in, carrying his salver of letters. He was followed by two footmen, each carrying a similar salver. The three emptied the trays onto his desk, right in front of him. At the sight of such a large pile of correspondence, Mr. Mornay's countenance took on an unpromising look.

At that moment, a knock on the door revealed a worried looking Mrs. Hamilton. She had come to report another missing item and that the work-men in the dining room had a question for him regarding some plasterwork details. Mr. Mornay closed his eyes and reminded himself that his wedding was soon to occur and that Ariana, who was bringing all these annoyances to his life, was the woman he adored. He then opened his eyes and stood up, without having lost his temper.

“What item this time?” he asked, as he rounded his desk.

“Your gold-handled letter opener, sir.”

He stopped and returned to his former position and opened a slim desk drawer. His look revealed the answer. It was gone, all right.

His face finally took on the severe demeanour that could send people scattering. “How in blazes did anyone gain access to this room?” His eyes fell upon Frederick. The man swallowed uncomfortably but clearly had no answer.

“It was brought to the kitchens for polishing, sir.” Mrs. Hamilton spoke up. “When I instructed Molly to return it to its place today, she said it was gone.”

“
Molly
said it was gone?”

“Yes, sir.” Her face was carefully void of feeling.

“Who was in the house besides the usual servants?”

“This happened yesterday, sir, during Miss Forsythe's second visit.”

Mornay frowned at the thought of Molly being involved. Ariana had asked after the servant numerous times. She had kept up her personal interest in the little maid so that Phillip had given his word that he would keep her on indefinitely.

“Neither of you will say aught of this to Miss Forsythe. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Hamilton replied and left the room.

“Yes, sir,” Frederick said. When his master dismissed him, he turned to leave but paused and picked among the letters on the desk, saying, “You'll want to know of this one, sir. It came by a footman from Merrilton House.”

Mr. Mornay opened the elegant invitation and found that he was being asked by Lady Merrilton to appear on the following night. The lack of notice was explained by the fact that the Regent had suddenly agreed to show and Lady Merrilton wanted to ensure his comfort by having his friends present.

The invitation included Miss Forsythe—a rather daring move, he thought, since they were as yet unwed. But it meant he would see his future bride. Although his heart lifted at the thought, he knew caution would be the order of the day. She surely would look as charming and beautiful as ever, and he would need to remain aloof.

He sent word to Hanover Square so she would expect him to call, and then started on the stack of letters before him. The Mornay family had
never shirked its responsibility to those less well-off. He tried his best to see that his tenants in Middlesex were not neglected and always held a large Harvest Home even making a quick appearance for the event. Mingling among his tenants was not something he particularly enjoyed. They were generally a cheerful bunch, and it had always intensified his own peculiar lack of cheer.

Looking down at the slew of requests, he felt no desire to be clutch-fisted now, but why in thunder was there such an onslaught of solicitations? He thought of Ariana's pleasure at the orphanage when she had been able to suggest the amount to give, and he knew she had a hand in this. He'd have to broach the subject with her. There were limits to what he could do!

When Mr. Mornay called at Hanover Square the following evening, Ariana was thrilled to see him. No matter that they had only been apart for two days, it was wonderful to be near him. He received her hands warmly, kissed them, and greeted her quite satisfactorily, and she could not help but notice that he looked even more handsome than usual in his crisp evening wear. When he caught her studying him admiringly, he laughed in response and then quickly turned her toward the street and his waiting equipage. To her surprise, he had come for her in an open curricle, very unusual for a formal event. He remarked breezily that the weather was fine enough for it, but barely looked at her throughout the drive.

The roads were clogged with the usual
ton
traffic as people traveled from one engagement to the next. Mr. Mornay drove as swiftly as possible, going from Hanover Square, across New Bond Street, and along Brook Street. He continued along Grosvenor Square, adjacent to his own house, and then onto Upper Brook Street, where many coaches were stopped, dropping off or picking up passengers. Once that avenue had been cleared, he made a westerly quick turn onto Park Lane and did an admirable job manoeuvering through equipages to bring them right up to Merrilton House.

Lady Merrilton was a wealthy Tory hostess whose palatial dwelling over-looking Hyde Park was often the scene of heated political debate. It was also a town mansion that Ariana had not yet seen. She soon discovered that the grandeur and elegance at Merrilton House made even Grosvenor Square pale in comparison. There were whole rooms full of rococo art of the past century. Gilded furniture, domed alcoves, roundels and statuary, pilasters and
columns, and elaborately carved plasterwork were everywhere and in such quantity, they brought Carlton House to mind. To her surprise, she found that it was rather too elaborate for her tastes and that she began to appreciate the measured gracefulness of Mr. Mornay's house more than ever.