A Virtuous Lady (13 page)

One morning, before most members of the ton were up and about, Briony made an excursion to
Hatchard's
book shop on the other side of Piccadilly from Albany House. By some ill fortune she met Ravensworth as she was leaving the premises with her purchase in her hand. It was her intention to ignore him, but he hailed her in a loud, commanding voice, and Briony turned back reluctantly. She greeted him with the "cool appraisal," being careful to lock her eyes on the imperceptible cleft on Ravensworth's chin. She had never noticed it before. She saw it deepen.
"My lord?"
Briony inquired coolly.

She heard him chuckle. "Miss Langland, I should like to present you to Lady Adele St. Clair. Our land marches together in Kent. I believe I mentioned that I have an estate in that county," said the
Marquess
irrepressibly.

Briony's
back grew rigid. She gave the lady with the guinea gold locks one of her steady, clear-eyed gazes. Then Briony curtsied and the lady bowed. When next Briony looked into Lady Adele's eyes, she was met by a hostile stare. The lady's lips, however, curved in imitation of a smile.

Briony perceived at once that Ravensworth's unfriendly companion took her to be a rival for the gentleman's affections and she felt sorry for her. She was, noted Briony, as she openly regarded the dashing cut of the lady's ensemble, exactly the sort of woman to attract the eye of a rake like Ravensworth. Her figure molded tightly by her scarlet morning dress was nothing less than voluptuous. In contrast to the lady's ornate costume,
Briony's
plain, gray- green, kerseymere pelisse was a model of understatement. Briony smiled reassuringly at the lady.

"I don't recall—did you two ladies encounter each other at the
Grenfells
' winter ball?" asked Ravensworth mischievously.

Lady Adele laughed throatily. "One meets so many new faces, how can I tell?" She
clung
a little closer to Ravensworth's arm and her tawny eyes raked Briony from head to foot with vulgar curiosity. Then satisfied that the unprepossessing chit of a girl posed no threat that she could not handle, she said dismissively with an edge of contempt in her voice, "I have no recollection of Miss Langland."

Briony did not admire the lady's tact and wondered what she had done to merit such venom. She noted that one of the ostrich plumes on her ladyship's bonnet was beginning to wilt and Briony was not sorry.

"We have not met!" said Briony in quelling accents for Ravensworth's benefit. "If we had, I am certain that I should have remembered the occasion."

From the corner of her eye, she glanced up at Ravensworth and saw that he was glowering.

"Where is your
abigail
?" he demanded rudely.

Briony
Was
at a loss. "My
abigail
?" she repeated foolishly.

"Your chaperone, girl, your chaperone!"

Briony laughed. "I need no chaperone, my lord. I have only to cross the street and I am home again. What harm can come to me when I am so close to Half Moon Street?"

"You dare to ask that after—" Ravensworth's voice froze in mid-sentence. Briony knew that he was referring to the night of her accident and she sensed that he was trying to protect her from the natural inquisitiveness of the lady by his side. She so far forgot herself as to look frankly into Ravensworth's eyes. His lordship was bristling like a hedgehog.

"I shall escort you home," he said with finality.

"But Hugh," began Lady Adele peevishly, "you gave me your word to accompany me to my man of business. We are already late. Surely Miss Langland can see herself home? I need you by my side to explain all the intricacies of the late Earl's estate. Such complexities are beyond me." She turned to him with an expression of appeal in her disarming smile.

"Pray do not think of deserting the lady," Briony said icily. "I am no schoolroom miss, sir. I am well able to take care of my own person."

Ravensworth sneered. "I take leave to doubt that, Miss Langland! Pray say no more on the subject. I insist! It will delay us by only a few minutes. Adele, if you please."

Briony felt compelled, for the sake of good manners, to comply with Ravensworth's bidding, but she was not well pleased with his high-handed ordering of her life.

On the return to Half Moon Street, it was Lady Adele who exerted herself to engage her two silent companions in the civilities of polite conversation. "May I ask the title of your book, Miss Langland?"

"Pride and Prejudice,"
returned Briony.
"One of my favorites, by an unknown lady.
I left my copy in Richmond and cannot bear to be without it. Do you know it?"

"Pshaw!" interrupted his lordship testily.
"Romantic drivel which ladies wallow in.
I had thought, Miss
Langland, that
a woman of your intelligence would be above such mediocrity."

"Pray do not include me in your censure," Lady Adele quickly interpolated. "I read the book and consigned it to the fire. I hope that my catholic taste is more established than to be taken in by such a
ferrago
of nonsense."

Briony duly noted the slights on her intelligence. They reached the front door of Aunt
Sophy's
house and she turned on the bottom step to survey her companions. She gave them her "go to the devil" sneer.

"I collect that you mistake the intention of the author," she said
cooly
. "The genre is of a more humorous bent than romantic. For some, I
collect,
it takes two or three readings before their intelligence is sufficiently alert to catch the irony."

Lord Ravensworth looked interested. "Perhaps I should give the book a second reading," he allowed. "Can you give me an example of what you mean, Miss Langland?"

"Certainly," Briony replied. 'The very first sentence of the book is the key to the author's style. How does it go? 'It is a truth universally
acknowledged,
that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.'"

"And do you consider that humorous?" inquired Lady Adele derisively.

Briony solemnly acknowledged that she did. "It is hilarious!"

Lord Ravensworth looked at her suspiciously. "The humor escapes my comprehension. Pray enlighten me."

"Perhaps you will see the humor of it if you change the gender of the subject and object," Briony replied demurely.

"A woman in possession of a fortune must be in want of a man," intoned Lady Adele ponderously.

"A ridiculous notion, don't you agree?" Briony flashed Ravensworth a mischievous grin. By the challenging expression she met in his eyes, she knew that he had received the message.

Lady Adele was no simpleton. She was well aware of the undercurrents in the conversation which flowed between her companions. As Briony took her leave of the lady, she was subjected to a look of implacable enmity from spiteful amber eyes and she shivered.

When Briony next set eyes on Lord Ravensworth, she was a guest of Lord Avery in his box at the Opera. Since the experience was a new one for her, she was absorbing the spectacle with wide-eyed, unabashed curiosity. It was Harriet who whispered the
Marquess's
direction in her ear. Briony turned her head and saw that his lordship was in the box twice removed on her right. In his hands
were a pair
of opera glasses which he had trained insolently on her person. She elected not to give him a set-down with one of her stares from her growing repertoire but deigned to bestow on him the frostiest of curt acknowledgments. The glasses were instantly lowered and the
Marquess
returned an exaggerated bow. Then he smiled one of his slow smiles. She watched under lowered lashes as he inclined his head to catch something which the lady at his elbow had murmured in his ear. He threw back his head and laughed, and Briony was sure that the jest had been at her expense. She recognized the
lady at
Ravensworth's
elbow. It was Lady
Adfele
St. Clair. Her gown was cut so low that her ample bosom, a vast expanse of white blubber, thought Briony uncharitably, was almost completely bared. Briony averted her chaste eyes and looked balefully in the opposite direction.

It did not take her long to come to the conclusion that Opera was not to her taste. After what seemed like hours of histrionic caterwauling from the renowned Italian soprano on stage, the first interval was upon them. Briony looked about her, studiously avoiding Ravensworth's box on her right. Her eye was taken by the unmistakable beauty of three ladies who were leaning over the edge of their box on the row above.
Briony's
gaze was arrested. She recognized them as her three angels. She jumped to her feet and waved her hand to attract their attention.

It was clear that she had been seen but the angels averted their heads as if not wishing to acknowledge her presence. She turned to edge her way between Harriet and Avery, who were engaged in earnest conversation. Aunt
Sophy
was dozing at the back of the box, a container of half-eaten sugar plums resting on her lap.

Briony's
eyes were caught by Ravensworth. He, too, had started up. He shook his head vigorously to warn her off. Harriet became aware of the tension in Briony and caught Ravensworth's motion. He gestured to the box above to convey what Briony was about. Harriet clutched at
Briony's
skirt.

"Oh Briony, no!
You cannot! You must not acknowledge the lady. You don't understand," she ended on a wail. Briony tried to remove her cousin's hand. "Oh Briony, it is
Harriette
Wilson, the courtesan. Now do you understand?"

Comprehension slowly dawned in
Briony's
eyes.
"Of course!
How stupid of me! I should have guessed. But how could I when everyone has treated me like the
veriest
child?"

Harriet relaxed her grip. Lord Avery appeared to be
puzzled. "Will someone enlighten me, please?" he asked politely.

Briony looked toward Ravensworth. He stood poised, watching her intently. She threw him a triumphant smile and turned on her heel to dash out of the box. Ravensworth was after her in a flash.

Harriet looked stunned. "Oh damn!" she cursed, and bolted after her incorrigible cousin.

"What the devil is going on?" demanded Avery to no one in particular. He got to his feet with a sigh, removed a speck of lint from his impeccable sleeve, and followed the ladies out at a leisurely pace.

A little breathless and warm cheeked from her exertion, Briony reached the forbidden box in a matter of minutes. The pins had fallen out of her hair in her mad rush and the blond waves tumbled around her shoulders. No need to wonder if she had found the right box, she reflected wryly. The crush of gentlemen waiting to gain admittance verified her conjecture. A few of these noble lords of the realm looked askance as she elbowed her way past, but no one attempted to bar her entrance to the hallowed portals. Ravensworth, only a few seconds behind Briony, did not meet with such a mild reception. Nothing would induce his peers to listen to his feeble excuses for being admitted out of turn. He was relegated to last in line, where he remained fuming and cursing at the inexcusable impetuosity of the ingenuous lady.

Briony's
reception by the three ladies who were holding court was, to say the least of it, chilly. The Vision, who had been
so
solicitous as a nurse, forbade her to speak until the box was cleared of her sisters and the frankly curious gentlemen. When the lady turned at last to look upon Briony, her eyes were sparkling with anger. Briony opened her mouth, but the lady held up a forbidding hand. The voice which addressed Briony vibrated with outrage.

"So! You have discovered me, and think to throw away your own reputation by being seen in my company! Perhaps you thought that my sisters and I would be overcome by such condescension? How dare you! If you care so little of your own good name, at least have a care for mine!"

"I don't understand," stuttered Briony.

"What you have done, little lady, is to jeopardize my position, such as it is, in Society. Do you think I wish it to be said that
Harriette
Wilson has taken to corrupting the morals of young, innocent girls? I should be ostracized by all my friends, and rightly so."

"I never
thought.
. .
I never
meant. . ."
began
Briony
horrified.

'That is obvious. I suppose that you are going to tell me that you meant well?"

Briony nodded miserably.

'"She meant well,'" continued the voice icily. "How much plain spitefulness and
busybodying
is concealed in that alarming epithet. Did it never occur to you once to consider how others might be affected by your rash impulse? Your behavior has been inexcusable!"