Danse de la Folie (15 page)

Clarissa entered with her customary calm demeanor, but Kitty
thought she detected the shadow of a pucker in her forehead.

Lord Wilburfolde rose to his feet, and with the same
ponderous deliberation, bowed over Clarissa’s fingers.

No sooner had everyone sat down again and exchanged another round
of polite nothings when Mrs. Latchmore surprised Kitty by snatching up her
stitchwork and saying, “My dear Lady Chadwick, I just bethought myself that we
must speak to Mrs. Bith about the supper. It is already late.”

Lady Chadwick looked from her aunt-by-marriage to Lord
Wilburfolde, then blinked and murmured something unintelligible before
following Mrs. Latchmore out. Lord Wilburfolde stood once again, bowing to both
ladies until the door shut behind them.

He then began to inquire into the accident to Clarissa’s
vessel. Kitty looked round-eyed from one to the other, trying to comprehend why
the gentleman’s questions were so lengthy, yet the lady’s answers were wondrous
short.

This had gone on for some time when the door opened a little
way, but instead of Pobrick, it was Mrs. Latchmore.

“Do not let me intrude, pray,” Mrs. Latchmore said. “I just
wish to request Lady Catherine to help me find my needle, for I dropped it on
the landing, and I require a pair of young eyes to find it.”

Of course Kitty must rise. As soon as the door was shut
behind her, though, she discovered Mrs. Latchmore already at the other end of
the landing, whispering to Lady Chadwick, “I told you that this would be the
Occasion. You’ll see that I am right.”

Lady Chadwick cast a look toward the salon. She seemed
uncertain, and Kitty wondered if she were waiting for Clarissa to appear, or
some other sign or signal. But the door remained closed, Mrs. Latchmore was
insistent, and so the ladies vanished into the breakfast room, leaving Kitty
standing uncertainly on the landing outside the salon.

Kitty had glanced at Clarissa while passing. How to interpret
the look that she had seen in Clarissa’s eyes? Did she wish to be alone with
this caller? Then she remembered something curious that Clarissa had said when
they first met, and prompted by instinct, she eased the door opened slowly.

She did not intend to eavesdrop, but Lord Wilburfolde’s
voice was not a quiet one. “... And I addressed your esteemed father, who was
flattering enough to encourage my suit. If you would name the date that will
make me the happiest of men, I will thus be able to carry the news back to my
good mother, who I feel certain would rejoice enough to rise from her bed of
discomfort.”

Kitty was then astonished to hear Clarissa say in a soft
voice, “After the summer season, it shall be as you wish, Lord Wilburfolde.”

Clarissa cast her tear-sodden handkerchief aside and sat
down at her dressing table, where she gazed resolutely at her red nose and
swollen eyes. No one would ever call her beautiful, or fall in love with her.
That was life. She could count up all her blessings — she knew she ought to —
except that would not make her feel better.

She turned away as fresh tears burned her eyes. Married to
Lord Wilburfolde, she would be the lady of her own establishment, and therefore
no burden on James’s future wife. Why had she never looked at Aunt Sophia and
considered her position? Because she’d grown up with it.

I will not be Aunt Sophia to my future nieces and nephews—that
must be a consolation, she thought resolutely. Another consolation would be her
own children, eventually, and until then, she would dedicate her life to being
useful to others. That must be her chief pleasure.

She thought of Kitty and the guest chamber and the urge to
confide in her was nearly overwhelming. Kitty’s amazement had been more
difficult to endure then Mrs. Latchmore’s triumph, and the careless
congratulations of her family. She had expected her father’s relief, and her step-mother’s
benevolent indifference. She had expected her sisters’ gleeful expressions
about weddings, bride clothes, and fuss. She had not expected the mute question
in the Kitty’s countenance. There was true concern! There was unselfish
sympathy!

Clarissa was also certain of Kitty’s heartfelt sympathy if
she were to confide her feelings. But that was the very reason she must say
nothing. She already sensed that Kitty was not fond of her sister-to-be. Confessing
the incipient sensibilities, or fancies (for she would not dignify a three days’
acquaintance with the term
regard
)
she had developed toward the marquess could only be a burden for Kitty.
She
could do nothing. However irregular
the engagement with Lucretia Bouldeston might be, it existed. Kitty had told
Clarissa. Her brother had hinted at it. He had enough feeling for the young
lady to wish to make her his wife, and Clarissa would keep honor with her sex
by not even permitting herself to think of the gentleman.

She did not go down to dinner when Rosina came in to help
her dress. The maidservant, who knew her quiet mistress best, withdrew to
inform the family that Clarissa was laid down with the headache.

o0o

Kitty woke late the next morning. When she thrust back the
curtain around her bed, she gave a contented glance around the lovely
bedchamber. She never tired of admiring the smart, fresh hangings on the wall,
the matching Sevres vases on the mantelshelf, the leaping fire in the
fireplace.

This is truly the way
to live
, she thought as Alice shouldered her way through the door,
carefully carrying a loaded tray.

“I thought you might be waking up, Lady Kitty,” Alice said
as she set the tray down. “Lawks! The household is turned a-bedlam.”

In other circumstances Kitty might have found herself
diverted by Alice’s evident pleasure at the stir and noise of ‘bedlam’ had she
not suspected the cause.

Kitty recollected all the hints that Clarissa had let drop
about not wishing to be married. What could make her change her mind? Little as
was her experience of the world, Kitty was very certain she had not seen any
signs of love in that woeful countenance.

The only way to solve the mystery was to get out of bed. And
indeed, Clarissa was the subject when she joined the family for breakfast.

The first voice Kitty heard was Mrs. Latchmore’s. Apparently
she had not got enough praise for her efforts in matchmaking, for she was going
on above the noise of the younger girls trying to get out of having to pay a
call on Lady Wilburfolde. “So affecting! Clarissa will always be in reach, and
as Lady Wilburfolde, she may entertain in London, which will be to Eliza’s and
Matilda’s benefit.”

“Not she,” James put in. “The old dragon won’t let Clarissa spend
a groat. She’ll go right on spending their fortune quacking herself. You watch.”

Kitty was interested to see Lord Chadwick give an actual
shudder at the words ‘old dragon.’

There was a pause, then Tildy stated, “And that is why I do
not wish to go calling. I am not being married. It is horrid enough when Lady
Wilburfolde calls, smelling of horrid medicines, and all she talks of are her
symptoms.”

Lady Chadwick murmured, “You will go because it is the
civilized thing to do. But we will only stay fifteen minutes, for no more is
required when someone is unwell.”

Tildy gave a loud sigh, but spoke no more.

As Kitty had not yet been introduced to Lady Wilburfolde,
she was not expected to join the Harlowe ladies and Mrs. Latchmore in paying
this call. She was more relieved than curious, especially when she saw Clarissa
looking, as she thought, very much like Marie Antoinette entering the tumbril
as she climbed into the carriage with the others.

Sorry as Kitty was for her friend, she could do nothing in
her aid. Meanwhile, Clarissa’s woeful profile inspired Kitty to fly to her room
and dig her novel from the bottom of her trunk. Paper, ink, and pens were
a-plenty on the pretty desk, and so the morning sped by as Andromeda’s
adventures included a forced betrothal—her features taking on a semblance of
Clarissa Harlowe’s.

On the ladies’ return, once again Clarissa retired with the
headache, after a softly murmured apology, and so Kitty joined the younger
girls at their invitation, as Amelia described, in detail, the wardrobe she was
accumulating for her launching into Society.

o0o

Kitty’s curiosity about the mysterious Lady Wilburfolde was
assuaged the next day, when they were all gathered in the morning room after
breakfast. Clarissa had said that she must write some letters, then she would
devote her day to Kitty. The latter said she would be happy to occupy herself
with a book, as the younger girls ran in and out, and Mrs. Latchmore busied
herself with mending a fire screen, speaking at least ten words to a single
stitch.

That was when Pobrick came to the door. His voice, Kitty
thought, was even lower than normal when he announced, “Lady Wilburfolde.”

Everyone rose, Lady Chadwick as quickly as the schoolgirls.

Lady Wilburfolde walked in, a tall woman of formidable mien,
who much resembled her son, except her hair was iron-gray. She let Lady
Chadwick advance to her to shake hands, and introduce her to Kitty, who
detected the faintest sniff on the words ‘St. Tarval’ as this lady looked Kitty
over from hair to toes, then bowed from the collarbones.

Lady Chadwick invited the caller to sit, whereupon with
stately assurance, Lady Wilburfolde took the best chair. Lady Chadwick sat on
the sofa beside the girls.

“I count nothing, least of all, my own health, when it comes
to a question of what is due to our positions in life,” Lady Wilburfolde lady stated
in what Kitty suspected was a well-rehearsed speech. “Edmund, as you may
suppose, is quite pleased.”

“The girls have been in transports,” Lady Chadwick answered,
sounding like a girl herself.

Aunt Sophia started in eagerly, “Oh dear, oh my, yes, just
as I’ve always said—”

“It seems odd to me, then, Mrs. Latchmore,” Lady Wilburfolde
interrupted, frowning, “that this business could have been conducted with a bit
more firmness and celerity. I might have had an heir growing under my
instruction by now. But Providence has granted me this much time, so I intend
to put it to good use before I am reunited with my sainted Wilburfolde.”

Kitty sustained a sudden, horrid picture of this formidable
lady supervising a marriage bed, an image that caused her to take her lip
firmly between her teeth. She was relieved as the tea things appeared, and a
bustle and fuss must be made over that.

The lady then went on. “We spoke yesterday of the Hymeneal
arrangements. Edmund and I conversed upon this head last night, and he agrees
with me that a new house is an unnecessary expense. It is not only economical
for the marital couple to live in The Castle, where there is so much space, but
we desire the Wilburfolde heir to grow up in his ancestral home.”

Nobody said anything. Clarissa looked startled.

Before she could speak, Lady Wilburfolde turned her way. “That
does not mean that the young people ought not to have their treat. I have no
objection to Edmund and Clarissa going up to London for a week or two each
spring. Edmund tells me he finds the metropolis improving, but of course he is
always glad to return home from the noise, stink, and frivolousness of London
ways.”

Again, no one had anything to say to that, except to make
polite noises. Kitty’s mood shifted to indignation. It was very clear that this
household was about to embark on a lengthy stay in London, so that speech could
only be understood as a kind of rebuke.

Lady Wilburfolde eyed her untouched tea and macaroons as if
they were spiders, then said, “The question was also raised yesterday regarding
the nuptials themselves. I wish to settle this question while I have the health
to deal with such matters.” She then turned toward Clarissa with stately
deliberation. “I believe it is traditional for older and wiser heads to come to
decisions, but I feel that a bride, when she has shown that she has earned so
marked a tribute, ought to be consulted. Therefore, Clarissa, I desire you to
make your wishes known.”

Clarissa lifted her head. “Perhaps next spring?”

Mrs. Latchmore gasped, for she had been speaking of a June
wedding.

Lady Wilburfolde nodded minutely. “I quite agree that
persons of our order must not display an unseemly haste in nuptial
arrangements. But may I remind you that you are no longer a girl.
Five-and-twenty is not a youth of eighteen, and the Wilburfoldes historically
do not breed like persons of the lower orders.”

Mrs. Latchmore gasped. The girls giggled, hilarity instantly
quenched when the imperious eye turned their way. Amelia turned her laughter
into a cough, and begged pardon.

Lady Wilburfolde ignored her. “It was quite fifteen years
before Providence enabled me to present to my sainted Wilburfolde the fruit of
our affections. If my health permits, I would be inclined toward a September
wedding, as is traditional in the Wilburfolde family. It is a respectable
half-year from now.”

Clarissa looked around her, like (Kitty thought
compassionately) a bird in a gilded cage. “Oh, but my sister Amelia—if she
should—”

The dark brows rose. “I should hope, Lady Chadwick, that you
would not repeat the harum-scarum haste of your eldest daughter’s marriage last
year. Weddings in summer. Extraordinary! And in any case, I believe that you
must have precedence over a mere girl, Clarissa.” Lady Wilburfolde then trained
her guns on Amelia. “If you are as pretty-behaved as your eldest sister, there
is no reason why you should not contract an equally eligible situation. And
there is something to be said for a Christmas wedding.”

Amelia made polite noises, looking very much as if she had
received a threat.

Since no one vouchsafed an answer, Lady Wilburfolde rose in
her stately manner. “Very well, then, it is all settled. Clarissa, you and I
will closet ourselves upon your return from the metropolis, which I trust will
be soon. I have only one last piece of business: the dress-party, before you
leave. Would the week of the fourteenth be acceptable?”