A Virtuous Lady (14 page)

"I have been so stupid." Briony swallowed. "I never thought to embarrass you."

The voice softened. "Perhaps something can be contrived. Where is your escort? Is it Ravensworth?"

Amid the howls of protest of the impatient swains at the door, Ravensworth was finally admitted. Briony stole a glance at him and quickly looked away. His expression was murderous.

"Lord Ravensworth," said
Harriette
Wilson sternly, "
permit
me to give you some advice. You will ensure that this young lady is removed from town until such time as the scandal has died down. I take leave to tell you that not only have my sisters and I been deeply embarrassed by her unwarranted conduct, but her friends, if she should have any willing to admit to that name by tomorrow morning, will find themselves in the same pass. Perhaps, in a few months' time, this deplorable indiscretion will be forgiven and forgotten, but until such time, it were better that this young woman be kept out of harm's way."

"Sc—scandal?"
Briony asked on a tremulous note.

"Do you think that this latest folly has gone unremarked?" demanded Ravensworth cuttingly. "By this time tomorrow, your name will be on the lips of every low-bred roué and voluptuary in London. These are not men of honor, Briony, believe me! I know them. By your conduct tonight you have indicated that you are available for the taking!" Briony shrank from the savagery in his voice, as much as from the words he was saying. His hand reached out to grasp her wrist. "Look around you!" he said implacably. He pulled her closer to his side. "Look at them gawking!"

Briony cast a fearful glance over the dress circle and orchestra pit. She saw with horror that Ravensworth spoke the truth. A sea of opera glasses in the hands of the more flamboyant dandies and boisterous young bucks was riveted to the box they were occupying.

"Look at you," he went on with a sneer. "Your hair, your conduct, everything about you proclaims you, in their eyes, a woman of easy virtue."

Briony shrank from him.

There was a commotion at the door and Harriet burst breathlessly into the box. She took in Ravensworth and Briony at a glance and her eyes glittered belligerently.

"Let her go, Ravensworth!" she commanded, her voice shaking with anger. His hands dropped to his sides and Briony ran to the safety of Harriet's arms. She began to sob softly.

"Oh no," groaned his lordship in disbelief. "Now there are two of them! I don't believe that this is happening to me. What have I ever done to offend the gods?"

Harriette
Wilson laid her hand on Ravensworth's sleeve. "May I suggest that you escort these young ladies home before they cause a riot?" Her eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement.

Ravensworth returned her smile wanly. "I apologize for the intrusion, ma'am." He held the door open and a weeping Briony clinging to a bellicose Harriet slunk past him.

"A moment, Ravensworth."
He turned back to the lady. Her words were for his ears only. "Be kind to the child. I like her."

It was a chastened Aunt
Sophy
who sat with shoulders slumped in abject wretchedness as Lord Ravensworth, in high dudgeon, enumerated the besetting sins of her scapegrace nieces. She winced as much from his brutal tone as from the damning words.

Briony listened with only half an ear. She had a strong suspicion that his lordship was relishing his role as moral arbitrator and was by no means displeased to have the opportunity of taking her down a peg or two. She sat stiffly in one corner of a long sofa paying him scant attention. Her mind turned to the details of the ignominious evening, of how Ravensworth had hustled them out of the theater halfway through the performance as if they had been deranged criminals.

She stole a quick glance to the other corner of the sofa, where her cousin sat weeping softly. Lord Avery, who had stationed himself close to Harriet, proffered his handkerchief. Harriet dabbed ineffectually at her watery eyes. Her fit of bravado in the opera box when confronted by the spectacle of an irate Ravensworth menacing her beloved cousin had, by this time, evaporated. Harriet was acutely conscious that in some unspecified way which she could not fathom she had failed Briony and the thought made her
inconsolable. For her own place in society, Miss Harriet Grenfell cared not a brass button but that her cousin should forfeit the good opinion of the ton through ignorance or an ingenuous disregard for propriety was more than she could bear.

It was poor Harriet's sudden collapse which had put some starch into
Briony's
spine. She would not cower like some poor-spirited creature. To be chastised for embarrassing a lady of
Harriette
Wilson's gentle disposition would have been just and accepted without demur. But to have her character held up to ridicule for merely inhaling the
odd
pinch of snuff, imbibing the
very
infrequent glass of wine, and being caught out smoking on only
one
occasion was intolerable meddling on the haughty nobleman's part.
Tittle
-tattler, thought
Briony
sourly, as she glanced forebodingly in his direction.

Briony looked approvingly at Lord Avery as he reassuringly patted Harriet's hand. That nobleman was more truly the gentleman, for his manner had been everything that was solicitous. It had been he who had escorted the ladies home, having been instructed curtly by Ravensworth to await his pleasure in Half Moon Street. Briony conjectured that the impatient Adele
must needs
be attended to first. With
unmaidenly
curiosity, she speculated about the lady's relationship to Ravensworth. No doubt the aristocratic lady would find favor with His Grace, the Duke. I'm sure I wish them happy, thought Briony magnanimously. She sniffed, and the wrinkle on her brow deepened to a frown.

"But Lord Ravensworth," Lady
Sophy
interjected timidly when his lordship's harangue appeared to be coming to an end, "these are merely high-spirited pranks. Perhaps I have been somewhat remiss in my vigilance as a chaperone, but now that I am apprised of the facts of the case, I shall endeavor to do better." She gave him a tremulous smile.

"Madam," he intoned as though he were lecturing a backward child, "it is too late to make amends. These 'ladies,' for want of a better word, have become too hot for London to hold! Their ill-considered conduct has put them beyond the pale! This evening's imbroglio was the final straw." His lordship's voice, if anything, became more heated. "They forced, yes, forced their way in, uninvited, to
Harriette
Wilson's private box. I see by your blushes, ma'am, that you are acquainted with the lady's name. Would to God that these delinquent rapscallions," he said fiercely, riveting the cousins with his piercing blue eyes, "I beg your pardon, would to God that these gently bred females had mastered the maidenly blush!" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Harriet' shoulders shook even harder, but Briony gritted her teeth and sat up a little straighter in her place.

Aunt
Sophy
swallowed but went on with dogged persistence, "Does—does this mean, my lord, that the girls have ruined their chances of gaining admittance to
Almack's
?"

There was a shocked silence, broken only by Harriet's irregular breathing.

"
Almack's
?" roared Ravensworth, striking his fist forcefully to his head.
"
Almack's
?
I beg leave to tell you, madam, that the only place where these 'ladies' will be welcomed is the bed of every licentious libertine in town."

Aunt
Sophy's
eyes dilated in horror. She emitted a long, sobbing wail and fell back against the cushions in a swoon. "My vinaigrette," she whispered hoarsely, her hand clutching convulsively at her throat. Harriet bounded up and bolted from the room. Avery went after her.

"Now see what you've done!" said Briony, choking with anger as she bent over her aunt to slap her wrists. "Did you have to enact us a Cheltenham tragedy? You have no right, sir, to ring such a peal over poor Aunt
Sophy
. Nor does your conduct in the past toward me entitle you to pass yourself off as a pattern card of rectitude. You, sir, are a hypocrite!" Briony saw the twinkle in his eyes and turned away primly to
give her attention to her swooning aunt. "There, there, Aunt
Sophy
, do not take on so! Lord Ravensworth exaggerates. Miss
Harriette
Wilson is a most unexceptionable lady. You would like her!" Aunt
Sophy
fainted in earnest. Ravensworth sat down holding his head between his hands, but whether in horror or laughter, Briony could not tell.

Harriet returned in a moment and held the vinaigrette under Lady
Sophy's
nose. The lady came to herself with a shudder. "It is the Grenfell blood," she moaned softly. "I should have known better than to think it had missed a generation. Like father like son, like mother like daughter."

"What Grenfell blood?" asked Ravensworth, thinking the lady's mind had become
unhinged.

"The girls are tainted," Lady
Sophy
lamented as if she had not heard him. "It's in the blood, you see. I warned my niece, your mother dear," she said, turning to Harriet. "I warned her to have nothing to do with John Grenfell. We
Woodwards
have always been most circumspect in our manners and morals, while the
Grenfells
never cared a fig for propriety. The duels he fought! The high flyers he had in his keeping! But your dear mother would have him—and see what has come of it!" She looked mournfully at Harriet.

"My father?" asked Harriet, her tears suddenly arrested by Lady
Sophy's
shocking disclosure. "I don't believe it. Why, he is so straitlaced, so sanctimonious. Do you tell me that Papa
was . .
.
a
rake?" She giggled nervously at the thought.

"Well, not latterly, of course, but his reputation, to put it mildly, was not quite the thing before he wed your mother— a long time ago, I grant you. Oh Harriet dear, it's in your blood." She groped for her vinaigrette once more.

"What did I tell you?" said Avery in an amused aside to Ravensworth.

"And Miss Langland's mother?" inquired Ravensworth blandly.

"Oh—even worse! They were known as the Scapegrace
Grenfells
. There was no tomfoolery that the tear-away Jane

Grenfell would not dare! She had a veritable talent for mischief—but how could she help it with that knave of a brother as her guardian? He encouraged her! It pains me to tell you, Briony, but your mother was not received in the best drawing rooms. Not that she cared. She snapped her fingers at the world and went her own way."

Briony was scandalized. "Do you tell me, Aunt
Sophy
, that my mother was licentious?"

"Not in the way you mean! Of course not!
But.
. .well. . .
how can I put it? She was a headstrong gel inclined to wildness. Why, she got herself compromised and
had
to marry your father!"

"My father?" asked Briony dumbfounded. She looked bleakly at Harriet and the two girls moved closer for comfort.

"Never could understand that," mused Lady
Sophy
aloud. "Graeme Langland's deportment was always of the first stare. A gentleman in every sense of the word! But he compromised your mother—no getting round it, and her brother, Sir John, compelled him to marry her. Of course, by that time Sir John was married himself and had become quite respectable."

"But—but Mama was always so
proper.
. .
so digni
fied . . .
so ladylike."

"Daresay she was, in later years. But I assure you, she and Sir John were the talk of the town. When they got shackled, everybody called it The Taming of the
Grenfells
.' Matrimony can do that, you know—reform even the worst of characters."

Ravensworth suppressed a chuckle, and glanced at Briony. He caught the cool, speculative look in her eye and raised his brows quizzically. He gave her a sly wink and smiled broadly when she bristled.

"That's the solution!" exclaimed Aunt
Sophy
in sudden inspiration. All eyes rested on her with expectant interest.

The color came flooding back to her cheeks. When she spoke, her voice became quite animated.
"Of course!
Don't you see?" She sat up stiffly in her chair. The girls must marry as soon as possible! Sir John will arrange it. They must leave for Bath at once. Tomorrow! We shall send for your brother, Briony, and have him escort you! I, of course, shall remain in town. I am too old to travel, and I really could not bear to have my sanctimonious nephew ring a peal over me. Is some ways," she added apologetically, "I liked him better as a rake."

"A moment, please," interposed Ravensworth smoothly. "No need to send for young Vernon. He is too inexperienced for such a task. Why, these girls would have him twisted round their thumbs before they reached Kensington. May Lord Avery and I offer our services, Lady
Sophy
? This is a labor for men, if not for Hercules himself." He smiled condescendingly at Briony. "I put my carriage at your disposal. We shall escort the ladies, and with the presence of an
abigail
, I believe the proprieties shall be observed?"