Gayle Buck (11 page)

“Then most definitely you should not become a sobersides, or Captain Hughes will become bored to tears with you,” Michele said teasingly.

“He would not dare,” Lydia declared. “I would kick up such a fuss that he would be forced to take notice of me. Indeed, he would wonder if he had not married a very vulgar female!”

“Perhaps you should try a little of that tactic on your unwelcome suitor. I doubt that his ardor would remain white-hot in that instance,” Michele said. “He was always a proud man, and he appears to me to have grown more so.”

“High in the instep is more like it,” said Lydia. “I should be forced to suppress even my smiles if I were to wed that gentleman. His lordship is so controlled in his manners, so remote! I doubt there is even a dram of ardor in the gentleman.”

Michele blinked at her cousin’s sweeping statement. She could recall a number of occasions when Lord Randol had exhibited a strong sense of ardor. But she said nothing, not wishing to open yet another painful door in her past.

Lydia did not notice her silence, being busy with her own thoughts. She sighed as she looked over at her cousin. “It is not my nature or even my person that his lordship finds appealing, you know. Not long before your arrival, I overheard a loud gentleman tell my father that Lord Randol is on the lookout for a young lady with an impeccable bloodline who can be expected to fill his nursery with blueblood heirs. I suspect that any young lady would do, so long as she met his high criteria and could be expected to toe the line.”

Michele felt every nerve within her protest against the picture that Lydia painted of Lord Randol. She forcibly reminded herself that he was no longer the gallant young officer that she had known and fallen in love with. She wrinkled her nose in a wry expression. “How can my uncle then be pleased at Lord Randol’s suit? He appears such a doting parent. I am surprised that he would look favorably on a gentleman who does not bid fair to make his daughter happy!”

Lydia shrugged somewhat unhappily. “It is all because Papa is so dazzled by Lord Randol’s condescension. After all, his lordship is a viscount. You would not think it, but Papa can be quite the snob. Why, Bernard is of particularly good family and he has excellent prospects quite apart from his military career. He is investing in the ‘Change, you know. But Bernard is a younger son, whereas Lord Randol may bequeath a title upon his bride. Oh, how I wish that Lord Randol had chosen someone else!”

Michele said thoughtfully, “It becomes clearer to me every day that you must take fate into your own hands, Lydia. Lord Randol will not simply disappear. If it is Captain Hughes that you are resolved to have, then you are behaving unfairly toward Lord Randol. He obviously has not a clue to what you feel. The gentleman that I knew would have wanted to know.”

“But I simply cannot talk to his lordship. You have seen how it is, Michele. He is so cold and forbidding that he discourages one’s intentions.”

“Do you wish to sit across the breakfast table from this gentleman you describe as forbidding for the remainder of your long life?” demanded Michele. She threw out her hands in exasperation. “Lydia, if you allow this indecision on your part to continue, you will discover yourself backed into a corner that you cannot escape, and you will end by wedding his lordship whether you wish it or not.”

The thought of Lord Randol married to another assaulted Michele with unexpected pain. She muttered an incoherent exclamation. “Pst! I have not the patience to discuss the matter further. I am going upstairs to change for dinner. And I suggest that you become more of a woman, cousin!” She swept from the drawing room, leaving Lydia sitting with a shocked and betrayed look on her face.

The force of her emotion carried Michele up the stairs, but before she had entered her bedroom, her heart misgave her. She should not have flared up in such a fashion at her youthful cousin. She, too, had once been painfully young and was used to rely on the guidance and wisdom of others for her decisions. But that had come to an end more than a year ago, when she had resolutely turned down Sir Lionel Corbett’s proposal of marriage.

Sir Lionel had made it known that he loved her passionately. He had said he was willing to marry her even though she was devastated by the news of Lord Randol’s death, and he had expressed the hope that eventually she would grow to love him. But Michele had not wanted to be given everything by a man and be unable to return to him anything but kindness. Instinctively she had known it would have been unfair to Sir Lionel and to herself. In the end she had sent Sir Lionel away, and she had never regretted it. But she had yet to discover the full consequences of that momentous decision.

Chapter Ten

Michele had expected that Lydia would treat her coolly after the manner in which she had scolded her, but Lydia was in perfect spirits at dinner. She chattered and laughed much as usual, and if there was a hint of reserve in her eyes, it was only Michele who detected it. Certainly none of the guests at dinner thought anything was out of the ordinary.

Lady Basinberry had set up a rare convivial evening at home. She had invited a small number of guests to partake of dinner and to play cards or parlor games afterward, as took their fancy. The elder members of the party were a couple well-known to Mr. Davenport, which put him into an expansive mood. When the ladies had left the table, he asked that the best claret be brought out and served to his old crony, Mr. Hedgeworth, and the other gentlemen.

Afterward the gentlemen followed the ladies’ example and retired to the drawing room. Mr. Davenport and his crony got up a friendly hand of piquet, establishing the bet at a penny at point, and settled down to business. There were three young gentlemen, one of whom had accompanied his sister, Elizabeth Hedgeworth. That young lady was a friend of Lydia’s whom she had not seen in some time, and the two quickly put their heads together to whisper confidences. Michele was not left to her own devices, however, because Clarence Hedgeworth chose to make her the object of his clumsy gallantry. Not to be outdone, the two other youthful gentlemen followed suit. Michele treated their fulsome attentions with a good deal of laughter and kindness.

Meanwhile Lady Basinberry and her older companion, Mrs. Hedgeworth, enjoyed a quiet
tête-à-tête
beside the fire, each busily plying a needle to her embroidery. “I do not mind it very much, Winifred. I own that I am often tired, but squiring my nieces about gives me a certain satisfaction, much the same as I experienced with my own girls,” said Lady Basinberry.

“But naturally you are not burdened with the same anxiety that one of them may end as an old maid,” said Mrs. Hedge-worth, a twinkle in her eyes.

Lady Basinberry laughed. “Too true! They have their own parents, who may entertain that concern. My object is to introduce them into polite society and to maneuver opportunities for them to be in the company of eligible gentlemen.”

“Then why ever have you brought this particular party together? Though I am naturally partial to my grandson, and the Murray boys are also well enough, I know that none of them fit your notion of a suitable match for Lydia. Why, she has known them all her life,” Mrs. Hedgeworth said.

“Exactly so. The pressures of the Season have been such that Lydia and Michele have begun to deal with the gentlemen with almost an air
of ennui.
I hope to disarm them with this little gathering and renew their freshness of spirit. I have few concerns for Lydia. She is flighty enough to be easily influenced, though her persistence over a certain military gentleman does surprise me,” Lady Basinberry said.

“Oh, my, has Lydia formed an attachment to someone completely ineligible?” Mrs. Hedgeworth asked with sympathy.

“He is not entirely ineligible, no. But my brother has greater hopes for her. I suppose it will do no harm in telling you, my dearest and oldest friend, but Edwin has been approached by a lord for Lydia’s hand. Naturally he has granted his lordship permission to pay court to Lydia, but she, still in the throes of her infatuation with a uniform, has thus far declined to accept the offer,” Lady Basinberry said.

Mrs. Hedgeworth chuckled. “You need not tell me Edwin’s reaction to it all. The gentlemen are always such fools in these instances. Edwin denied the house to the soldier, did he not?”

“Very nearly as bad. He informed Lydia that her young military gentleman was unacceptable, which naturally set up her determination to spurn the offer from his lordship,” said Lady Basinberry. “But I think that I have the situation well in hand. I have allowed Lydia to see her soldier, thus stripping him of unnecessary romance, and I am confident that his appeal must eventually pale beside that of other, more glamorous gentlemen. I anticipate a satisfactory ending with Lydia. However, my elder niece poses something more of a challenge. She has openly disclaimed any intention of marrying.”

Mrs. Hedgeworth shot a surprised glance toward the young lady in question, who was laughingly disavowing the pretty compliments showered upon her in a spirit of competition by her group of admirers. “She does not appear in the least shy with the male sex. Whatever is the matter with the girl?”

“She lost her fiancé at Waterloo and ever since has steadfastly refused to accept any suit. My sister sent her to us in hopes that a change of locale might shake her out of herself. Michele goes along quite well in society and she has her share of admirers, but she treats them all quite impartially. You have only to look at the manner in which she orchestrates those three calflings to have a notion of how she deals with the gentlemen,” Lady Basinberry said with a disgusted shake of her head.

Unaware that she was the object of such interest, Michele had succeeded for the most part in jollying her youthful admirers into thinking of her as their elder sister. She suggested a game of sticks and drew Lydia and Elizabeth Hedgeworth into the circle. In a very short time all six young people were absorbed in the nursery game, which was played with a great deal of laughter and bated breath as each tried his skill in picking up the tumbled sticks. Lydia was quickly seen to have the keenest eyes and nimblest fingers of the group, and after vanquishing all contenders, she was declared champion.

“I had no notion that you were so quick, cousin,” Michele said, laughing.

Flushed and pleased, Lydia smiled. Her eyes were completely unshadowed as she looked over at her cousin. “I used to play quite frequently as a small child with my nurse. This was great fun. I do not know why we do not do such things more often. Actually, I enjoy all sorts of childish things, like the Tower Zoo and Astley’s Circus,” she said.

“Do you, by Jove!” exclaimed Toppy Murray, who had earned his unusual nickname for his unmanageable shock of fiery red hair. He impatiently brushed aside an unruly lock so that he could eye Lydia in approval. “We must go to Astley’s, then. I never tire of the equestrian feats that are performed.”

“Nor I,” agreed his brother, Edward, who sported a less noticeable copper head.

“I should like it too, Edward,” Elizabeth said, smiling hopefully at the young gentleman.

He reddened and made an awkward bow to her. “I shall be delighted to escort you. Miss Hedgeworth,” he said with an assumption of formality.

“And you, mademoiselle? Do you also enjoy spectacles of horsemanship?” asked Clarence.

Michele smiled at the young gentleman, in whose eyes still lurked a good deal of admiration. “I enjoy anything to do with horses, Mr. Hedgeworth.”

“Then I offer myself as an excellent escort, for I have been to the Royal Circus countless times and I daresay I may point out every subtlety of the performance,” Clarence said loftily.

His pompous air earned him a good-natured shove from Toppy Murray. “What rot! But what can one expect of a Cambridge man, after all?” he said.

The evening ended nearly two hours later with much good humor and friendly good-byes. Promises were exchanged of planning a future outing to Astley’s Royal Amphitheater. As the front door closed on the dinner guests, Lydia pronounced herself eminently satisfied with the evening. “I had such fun tonight,” she said, giving a small skip.

“And I,” Michele said. “Such informal company was a breath of fresh air after the round of entertainments we have been attending. I shall be more able to bear the rest of it.”

Lydia nodded. “I never thought a Season could be less than exciting, but after one meets everyone one should, and sees the same faces over and over, it becomes rather boring. Such stuffy functions! But I am actually looking forward to it again, especially since we are to go to Astley’s Circus as well.”

“I am glad to hear it, for tomorrow we have several calls to make,” said Lady Basinberry. She smiled as her nieces gave a mutual groan. “Morning calls are a necessary evil, my dears, and we have neglected ours for too long. Even Edwin would agree, if he would but come out from behind his newspaper long enough to attend the conversation.”

Her acid tone caused her brother to give a guilty start. After saying good night to their guests, he had promptly settled himself in a wing chair before the fire and buried himself in the day’s happenings. He lowered the newspaper. “Eh? What was that, Beatrice?”

But Lady Basinberry turned her shoulder on him. “I fear that your visit to the Royal Amphitheater must be put off for a time, Lydia, since all our evenings have already been spoken for. However, if the anticipation will make the time pass more swiftly for you, I shall plan to leave one evening open so that you and your friends may have your little treat,’’ she said.

“Thank you, aunt,” Lydia said, much gratified.

“And now I shall say good night. Tomorrow will be a lengthy day and I wish to be well-rested for it. I might suggest the same for you, Lydia, and for Michele as well,” Lady Basinberry said, rising from her chair.

“Of course, my lady. It will be a rare treat, indeed, to slip into my bed before the small hours of the morning,” Michele said humorously.

“When you become as ancient as myself, Michele, you will have yet a keener understanding of what a luxury it is,” Lady Basinberry said with a flash of tartness. She beckoned to her elder niece. “Lend me your arm, Michele. I wish to speak with you on the way upstairs.”