Evelyn Richardson (8 page)

“I shall be happy to inform Arabella of our decision.”

“Oh, would you? You are too generous.” The marchioness reached for her vinaigrette and lay back on the sofa where she had been reclining with a book of sermons when Lucian sought her out.

It was nothing even remotely like generosity that compelled Lucian to return to Bath, but there was no point in disabusing the marchioness of that notion. The more she believed him to be acting in their best interests, and the more she relied on him for guidance and support, the better off they would all be. Her impulses were always the best; however, the marchioness was a kind but weak mistress whose indecisiveness had nearly reduced the household to utter confusion before Lucian had been able to get there and set things back to rights again after receiving the news of his elder brother’s death.

No, it was not generosity, or even concern for the welfare of his niece, who would be perfectly well protected on her journey with the coachman, her maid, and several burly outriders, but an intense desire to see Catherine again that made him volunteer to accompany Arabella to Bath.

Lucian had forgotten what a potent effect Catherine had always had on him, but it had all come rushing back to him in a moment as he had stood staring at her across her desk that first day at the academy. There was a vitality about her, an intensity, and a sense of purpose that had always intrigued and challenged him. It was her eyes that had first attracted him. Filled with a lively intelligence and lit with a sparkle of humor, they told him that their owner was a person worth knowing.

He smiled as he remembered their first waltz together. They had immediately become involved in such a heated discussion of the importance of common lands and the economic effects of the Speenhamland System that at one point they had stopped dead on the floor while the other couples swirled around them like so many butterflies, as Catherine argued that supplementing wages with parish poor rates would bring disaster.

Lucian had never known any other woman, or man, for that matter, who was so interested in so many things, and he had sorely missed their conversations after he had left London, but other events and other concerns had soon overtaken him, and over time he had forgotten how much he missed those conversations until he saw her again.

He admitted to himself that after ten years there was still no other woman who could stand up to him as she did, and certainly no one clever enough or strong-minded enough to make him feel foolish. He could not help chuckling as he recalled her shocked disapproval as she questioned him about his selection process of schools for his niece. ‘What? Not even one?’ Even though his own lack of thoroughness in reviewing other possible choices for Arabella’s schooling was all to her advantage, Catherine could not stifle her innate integrity. And who else among his acquaintances would have dared to call him to task for his intellectual laziness or would have cared that he find the best possible place for his niece, regardless of personal interest?

Rejecting the offer of a servant to fetch his niece, Lucian himself went in search of Arabella, whom he eventually located in the rose garden, though he suspected from the lopsided angle of the bonnet, its carelessly tied ribbons and the muddle of scissors and gloves in her otherwise empty basket that she had arrived there only moments before.

Clearly she had wished him to find her there. And just as clearly she had chosen to pose in the role of country gentlewoman for some particular purpose. The last time he had seen his niece, she had been equally determined to prove to him that she was an avid equestrienne. Unlike her weak and vacillating mother, Arabella never did anything by half measures, and never without a reason, obscure though that reason might be to the rest of the world.

“Uncle Lucian! How delightful to see you. I vow it has been an age since you were at Charlmont.”

Lucian ignored the gracefully extended hand. “Cut line, Arabella. It has been less than a month; furthermore, you are quite aware of how long it has been and all the reasons for it.”

“Ah yes, the enchanting Lady Granville, I believe. Undoubtedly she grew bored without the flattering attentions of her latest flirt.”

“You know full well that my presence in London was required for other reasons, business reasons. But that is quite beside the point. What sort of company are you keeping that amuses itself by wasting its time spreading idle gossip? You sound like the worst of the town tabbies.”

Arabella glanced at her uncle nervously. His tone was light enough, but there was a hint of steel underneath. “I was merely repeating what is common knowledge. Lady Partington and her daughters were speaking of it not long ago, and naturally I informed them that it was business and not pleasure that had recalled you to town.”

Lucian hastily stifled a grin. She might widen her eyes, the picture of artlessness, but despite her innocent tone the defiant tilt of the chin betrayed her; there was no doubt that Arabella was a minx or that her weak-willed mother was simply no match for her lively daughter. It was high time that his niece was sent someplace where she would not be able to ride roughshod over everyone.

“Then it is Lady Partington and her daughters who sound like the worst sort of town tabbies, and it is time you were introduced to more fitting company. Fortunately, I have come to speak to you about that very thing.”

“You have?” Arabella eyed him suspiciously.

“Yes. A young lady of your expectations should be expanding her horizons, growing beyond the provincial sort of thinking that inevitably pervades country society.”

“But I like the country. It is peaceful here, and I am happy with simple country pursuits.” She waved a dramatic arm to include the vista of green fields dotted with sheep as well as the basket that she had laid at her feet.

So that was it, the reason behind the carefully staged scene in the garden! She knew he had come to take her to school and this was her way of convincing him that it was a waste of time. “I am more than seven, you know, Arabella. You would insist on being a nun if it suited your purpose. And I do recall that not long ago you were equally insistent that life at Charlmont was intolerably boring.”

“That was ages ago. I have grown up a great deal since then.”

“Yes, all of six months ago, I believe. And I know you have grown up since then,” he responded grimly, thinking of young Foxworthy. “However, it is high time you acquired knowledge commensurate with your age. I have found a place that will give you all that, believe me. It will also prepare you for a future that encompasses a world far beyond Charlmont.”

“But I have no wish to leave Charlmont. I do not want to become some lady of fashion who spends her entire day at her toilette in the hopes of being more a la mode than her rivals. There is no need for me to have a Season in London, for I plan to spend the rest of my life in the country. And surely if you are concerned about my wasting my time ‘spreading gossip like the worst sort of town tabby,’ it would be more sensible to keep me here in the country away from the influence of town tabbies,” Arabella concluded triumphantly.

Lucian was silent for a moment, picturing another strong-minded young lady many years ago who insisted she had no use for the
ton
, who had resisted her parents’ efforts to give her a Season. But surely, Lady Catherine had enjoyed that Season just a little bit? Certainly it had been the most memorable Season in Lucian’s experience. Every Season after that had been a stale repetition of the one immediately before it. “No,” he responded slowly, “I do not wish you to waste your time in trading gossip and the latest
on-dits
, which is precisely why I am escorting you to Bath, where you will learn to think for yourself, to develop a mind that can appreciate many things beyond mere
on-dits
and the latest whims of fashion.”

“Bath? You are taking me to Bath?” Arabella looked thoughtful.

“Yes, that is where the academy is.”

“Oh.” It was almost a sigh of relief.

Lucian could almost see his niece’s mind working feverishly. She knew him to be a man of his word, a man who was immune, or nearly immune, to the machinations of females far more sophisticated than she, and she knew there was no resisting him. She also knew that Bath was a good deal closer to Charlmont than other places he could have selected. Further resistance would arouse his suspicions and perhaps make him think seriously about sending her some place farther away.

“Very well, but I must be able to come home to visit Mama. She has been suffering a great deal from her nerves since Papa’s death.”

“I will make sure that whenever I come to Charlmont I shall stop along the way to pick you up and bring you with me.” Lucian did not think for a moment that the Marchioness of Charlmont’s nerves, her chief claim to anyone’s attention, were any more present after her husband’s death than they had been before, but regular visits to Bath would give him the opportunity to pursue interests of his own, and that was reason enough for him.

Chapter Nine

Arabella had submitted to her uncle’s plans for her future, she appeared biddable enough, and if she remained closeted in her chamber for long periods with her maid, it was presumed that she was supervising the packing for the trip.

On Saturday she bade her mother and the assembled servants at Charlmont a fond but cheerful farewell and composed herself for the journey with such equanimity that Lucian’s suspicions were immediately aroused.

He kept a weather eye out for lone riders along their route, but none appeared, and he was forced to conclude that either her relationship with young Foxworthy had cooled considerably or she was far more skilled at clandestine relationships than he had given her credit for.

They pulled up in front of number 16, the Royal Crescent, late that evening just as the sky was deepening from pink to azure and the stars were beginning to come out. The academy was ablaze with light and the butler opening the door smiled benevolently at them. As he ushered them upstairs to Lady Catherine’s office, the sounds of laughter drifted enticingly down the stairs.

Closely observing his niece, Lucian was pleased to see the carefully bored expression Arabella had maintained throughout the trip brighten into one of curiosity and interest until she felt her uncle’s eyes upon her and the mask of boredom came down again.

Lucian was not the only one to see beneath this carefully assumed appearance. As Catherine greeted her prospective student she studied her carefully. It was a merry face with a generous mouth, a hint of dimple at one corner of it, and large brown eyes that were clearly more accustomed to examining the world with frank curiosity than remaining fixed demurely on the carpet as they were now. Obviously this was a young woman of spirit who was doing her utmost to hide that fact under the best imitation of a meek exterior she could manufacture.

“I am delighted that you could join us here at the academy, Lady Arabella.” Catherine rose and extended her hand. “I do hope you will enjoy the girls as much as I do. They are a lively bunch so I am sure you will soon feel quite at home.” She smiled at the sparkle of interest that flashed in her prospective pupil’s eyes despite her best efforts to remain expressionless.

“In particular, I expect you will enjoy Olivia, the Countess of Morehampton’s daughter. She was one of our first pupils and is about your age. As she lives very near here, I count on her to be your guide to the shops in Milsom Street and the many delightful walks in the area. She is also an excellent student, though I imagine that is of less interest to you. Shall I ask for her to show you around? You are far more likely to learn what you wish to know about us from someone your own age than from one of the teachers or the headmistress of this establishment.”

“Oh, yes, please. I would like that.” Arabella smiled shyly. There was no resisting Lady Catherine’s frank, easy manner and her genuine concern for her new pupil’s future happiness. In fact, Arabella quite forgot her resolve to maintain her air of meek indifference and was soon responding readily to Lady Catherine’s questions about her journey, the number of trunks she had brought with her, and her concern for her horse whom she had been forced to leave behind.

“At the moment we have no accommodations for horses as we are but a small establishment. As we grow, however, I fully intend to offer stabling for our students, as I know I could not do without my regular exercise, and walking is just not the same thing as riding. Ah, here is Olivia. Olivia, may I introduce you to Lady Arabella, who has just arrived. I hope you can show her around, introduce her to the others, and make her feel welcome. I have already assured her that you are our authority on the best shops to be found in Bath.” Catherine turned to welcome a tall young woman with masses of golden hair and a decided air of fashion which clearly made an impression on the newcomer. There was no mistaking the envious admiration in Arabella’s eyes as she took in the higher waist, tighter shape, and long sleeves that proclaimed the gown Olivia was wearing to have been very recently created by an extremely skilled modiste.

“I shall be happy to show her around.” Olivia smiled in the friendliest of fashions as she led Arabella towards the door. “It will be delightful to have another member of the academy who is the age of the older girls. Is this your first time in Bath, Arabella?”

As Catherine turned back again to Arabella’s uncle, the sounds of girlish laughter wafted up the stairs. “I think I can safely say that at the very least your niece will enjoy the companionship here. In addition to Olivia, we have two other students who are very close to her age as well as a few who are only slightly younger, and they all appear to be on the best of terms.”

“Credit for which I am sure is due to you and your instructresses. Nevertheless, I intend to remain in town several days to ensure that Arabella is feeling quite at home before I return to London.”

Catherine’s eyebrows rose in faint surprise. There was no need for his concern. Though Arabella’s attitude had at first been rather unforthcoming, it had been quickly discarded in favor of one that was far more animated the minute she had become involved in conversation. Catherine did not have the slightest worry about the new pupil’s fitting right in with the rest of the girls. In fact, she was willing to wager a good deal that the girl would prove to be the most redoubtable of a group that had already been characterized by any number of people as “extremely lively.”