Joan Smith (2 page)

Jane observed him closely to see how he had 9

changed. His boyish face had altered. It was not just the complexion, darkened from Spain’s sun. The deep blue eyes that used to dance with laughter had changed, too. They were graver, the whole face more manly. He looked like a soldier, that was it. Discipline had been added to his boyish charms to provide the coup de grace. He was still tall and lean, but he had grown some muscles. He held himself straighter. His black hair was barbered close to his head, removing the wave that used to fall forward to enchant the ladies.

She observed all this in a second, then he was rushing forward to meet the ladies who were rushing to meet him.

“Aunt Lizzie!” He pulled her into his arms and swung her off her feet.

He spotted Jane and came forward with his hand out. He gave her hand a firm shake, and as an afterthought, leaned down to peck her cheek. It did not feel like the kiss of a lover, and her hopes shrank accordingly.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, peering down at her. She saw a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, and wondered at it. Was it the presence of his aunt and Mrs. Lipton that accounted for his mild kiss?

“Welcome home, Nick,” was her discreet answer.

Mrs. Lipton welcomed him, then he took a step back toward the front door. “And now for my surprise, ladies.” His eyes danced in the old way. His lips opened to reveal a flash of white teeth. He pulled open the door and said, “I would like you all to meet my bride, the colonel’s lady, Mrs. Morgan.”

To their credit, none of the ladies fainted, or even screamed. It is true that Lizzie made
a
strange choking sound and clutched at Mrs. Lipton’s gown to prevent herself from falling. Mrs. Lipton turned and stared at Jane as if fearing the girl might go off into a swoon. Seeing this, Jane pitched herself forward to greet the newcomer.

“Mrs. Morgan, welcome to ... your home,” she said, feeling acutely uncomfortable. It was hardly her place to welcome the bride, but as no one else was doing it, she forced the words out. “I am Miss Ramsey.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” the lady replied in a soft, high voice, and curtsied. It was the first time Jane had ever been called ma’am by anyone but a servant.

Nicholas turned to his bride and smiled admiringly. “There, I told you we would surprise them.”

His bride looked less than enchanted with the reaction his surprise had elicited, and Jane for one did not blame her in the least. His aunt and Mrs. Lipton soon recovered from their shock and began babbling to cover their embarrassment. While coats were removed, Jane had a moment to assess the newcomer.

It did not take a genius to see why Nick had married her. If an angel came floating down to earth, it would surely resemble this lady. Her stylish bonnet was removed to reveal a halo of soft blond curls. That sweet face, those blue eyes and long lashes, might have stepped out of a Botticelli painting. The angel had obviously visited a French modiste to acquire that striking blue silk gown. She would have been freezing in the carriage, were it not for the sable lining to her mantle. The lady’s figure was less angelic. Angels did not have such full, round, high bosoms and such small waists. Her age, Jane thought, was not more than seventeen or eighteen. She was certainly in the first flush of youth.

Eventually the little throng moved to -the Gold Saloon, where Nicholas was busy to arrange his bride before the grate, setting a stool in front of her to dry her dainty feet. She continued to smile shyly around without saying much.

“You must forgive us, my dear,” Lizzie said to the newcomer. “Such a shock! We had no idea. Why did you not tell us, Nick? I would very much have enjoyed going to your wedding.”

“So you shall, Auntie,” he said merrily. “We aren’t married yet. We mean to do it up at the beginning of the New Year. I only introduced Aurelia as my bride as a little joke. You know how I like to shock you. Naturally you must all attend our wedding. Aurelia wants a lavish wedding.” His circling gaze included Jane and Mrs. Lipton in the invitation.

“And what is your fiancée’s last name?” Lizzie asked.

“Townsend,” Nick said. “Aurelia is the youngest daughter of Edward Townsend.” He looked expectant, under the misapprehension that this name meant something to his listeners. “You must have heard of him. He’s famous.”

“The Bow Street Runner?” Mrs. Lipton asked in
confusion.

Nick laughed merrily. “Good God, no. Edward Townsend is the second largest brewer in the country, after Whitbread. He is the creator of the famous Oldham Ale that has become so popular.”

“I have heard of Samuel Whitbread,” Lizzie said. “He married Lord Grey’s granddaughter. He was a friend of Charles Fox as well. Fancy a
brewer’s son
—”

Jane saw where this was going and leapt in. “Nick says you are the youngest daughter, Miss Aurelia. Have you many brothers and sisters?”

Miss Townsend looked her gratitude to Jane. “I have one brother and two sisters,” she answered in a perfectly genteel voice. “They are all married. I was visiting my oldest sister, Mrs. Huddleston, in London, which is how I came to meet Nick.”

“Huddleston? Do we know any Huddlestons?” Lizzie asked Mrs. Lipton. “The name sounds familiar.”

Mrs. Lipton refrained from mentioning that she was probably thinking of Sam Huddleston, the cobbler in Amberley.

“My brother-in-law used to be the MP for Manchester,” Miss Townsend explained. “Perhaps you have seen his name in the journals. He works for Papa now, running the administration office in London.”

“Ah, an MP, that would be it,” Lizzie said, nodding, although she seldom glanced at the political news and was hardly aware they had politics in Manchester.

When Miss Aurelia’s position in society had been established
—a papa in brewing, but in such a large way that the aroma of hops was diluted by the sweeter scent of gold—the conversation turned to Nick’s doings.

“Of course, Wellington urged me to join him in Paris,” he said, a little proudly. “I feel myself, and told Wellington, that I think the appointment a grave error on everyone’s part. The ministers fear his popularity, but they might have found something more suitable for him. To send the conqueror to France as ambassador must be a constant thorn in the side of the French. It would be as if Boney had won the war and come to England to rub salt in the wound. It would not surprise me much if Wellington is assassinated. Perhaps that is what they want.”

“Oh really, Nick!” his aunt chided.

Jane saw that his years in Spain had not brought as much discipline and wisdom as they ought. Such outspoken criticism as this might land him in the Tower.

“I know what you are thinking,” he said to his aunt, “but as I have abandoned public life, I can say what I feel, and I feel the appointment was bad. Many agree with me, but they are too wise to say so.”

“So you are coming home to stay,” Lizzie said, gratefully latching on to this safe topic. But the joy had gone out of the homecoming for her. She could not but think Jane must be suffering agonies, and it was half her own fault. She had given Jane the notion that Nick was coming home to marry her. Of course, Jane was concealing her grief admirably. She had great countenance. As Nick’s choice had been made, they must all just learn to love a brewer’s daughter. At least the girl was well behaved. Quite genteel, although she hadn’t much to say for herself. A pretty little thing; one could see why Nick had been bowled over by her.

Jane was certainly disappointed, but she had never allowed her hopes to soar very high. She was relieved to see that Nick had found himself a pretty and nice girl, and that they would be residing at Clareview.

Wine was served, and after some chat, Nick went abovestairs to visit his uncle. “I shall see what sort of mood he is in before taking you up, Aurelia,” he said to his fiancée. “He is old; his mind wanders.”

“He has got worse,” Lizzie warned him. “He probably won’t recognize you. I shall speak to Pillar about supper while you are gone. Emily,” she said to Mrs. Lipton, “perhaps you would just take a look at the table for me. It will leave the girls a moment to become acquainted.”

Jane welcomed the opportunity. Miss Aurelia had little to say in front of the group, but she felt that as Nick was marrying her, she must be something special. He had always demanded more than just a pretty face in his flirts, although
a
good face was certainly obligatory.

“Do you live in London with your sister?” she asked, to get the talk started.

“My home is in Manchester. Papa built a mansion there, but one cannot meet anyone interesting in Manchester.”

Jane blinked to learn that such a large city should be totally devoid of any interesting people. “So you made your debut in London?”

“Not formally,” Miss Aurelia replied, with just a trace of annoyance. “But Mr. Huddleston knows everyone. My sister entertains two or three nights a week. And when she does not entertain, we go out. Do you like London, Miss Ramsey?”

“Oh, indeed, very much. I only visit, of course. I was not presented.”

“I wondered that such an attractive lady had not found a husband. Are there no eligible
partis
hereabouts?”

Now it was Jane who was uncomfortable. “Until recently, I was looking after my mama, who was ill. She died a year ago.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” Miss Aurelia said dutifully. Then she smiled conspiratorially and said, “Don’t rush into anything. You still have a few good years in you. I mean to entertain a great deal after Nick and I are married. We will spend the Season in London, of course, but he will want to be here from time to time to keep an eye on the estate.”

“I see,” Jane replied. It was not her understanding of Nick’s plans, but naturally his fiancée would know.

“How did you come to meet Nick?” Jane asked a little later.

“It was the most romantic thing!” Miss Aurelia said, glowing in pleasure. “It happened while I was shopping. I was just coming out of Miss Lanctot’s— the milliner, you know. She has the best bonnets in London. I twisted my ankle, and who should be coming along to help me but Nick! He bustled me straight into his carriage and drove me home to my sister’s, for I could not walk after giving my ankle such a wrench. He called Dr. Knighton—he is the Prince Regent’s doctor—and stayed for dinner. Nick, I mean, not Knighton. That evening we went out dancing—and two weeks later, we were engaged. Is it not romantic, Miss Ramsey?”

“Just like a fairy tale,” Jane agreed. But she had to wonder how that wrenched ankle had recovered so quickly.

“Is there much to do hereabouts?” was Miss Aurelia’s next speech.

“The riding is good, though not so comfortable in winter, of course. There is a local hunt club. We have a good circulating library.”

“That is nice. Nick tells me I must take up riding. And what about assemblies and routs?”

“Oh, that. There is a monthly assembly in Amberley.”

“Monthly! But what do you do all the other nights? I did not expect theaters or the opera in the country, but there must be private parties.”

“Yes indeed. We visit ten or twelve families.”

Miss Aurelia sighed. “Ah well, I have my wedding plans to keep me busy.” She glanced around the room, from the fading draperies to the well-worn carpets. “There is a deal to be done about the house as well, I see,” she added. “I am happy that I have met you, Miss Ramsey. I daresay you are shocked that Nick is marrying me. I do not pretend to be at home in noble company. I know I have a great deal to learn, but I learn quickly. You are an older lady; you must always tell me if I am making a fool of myself.”

“I am sure you will not do that,” Jane said. She was touched at the girl’s frankness, and her appeal for help, despite that reference to her being “an older lady.” “I expect you will find it is yourself who is looked to to set the style. You certainly put us all to the blush in matters of toilette.”

Miss Aurelia blushed. “Thank you. I had no notion how to dress when I went to London. Marie— Mrs. Huddleston—said I looked a perfect quiz in my round bonnet when I arrived at Grosvenor Square. She took me to her modiste—French, of course. I brought my finest gowns with me, so that I would do Nick proud.” She lowered her eyelids and said in her high, childish voice, “I do love him very much.”

“I am sure you do.”

“Ah, here he is now,” Miss Aurelia said as he entered the room. “Are your ears burning, sir?” she asked playfully. “We have just been talking about you.”

“Don’t believe a word Jane says,” he said, smiling fondly from one to the other. “I wager she told you I boxed her ears when she was in short skirts, but she forgot to tell you she put a burr under my mount’s saddle and nearly got me killed.”

“She did not tell me that. I see I have a great deal to learn about my
mari.
‘Boxed her ears’ indeed, and here I have been taking you for a gentleman.”

“A colonel and a gentleman,” he said, bowing and taking a seat beside her.

Miss Townsend dropped her playful mood. “How is your uncle?” she asked.

“He has deteriorated sharply since I last saw him. We had a short game of soldiers. I let him beat me.”

“And his health?” she asked.

“He seems in good enough health and spirits, I am happy to say.”

As Lady Elizabeth and Mrs. Lipton returned to the group at that point, Jane missed the look of disappointment that seized Aurelia’s face. Lady Elizabeth herded them all in to supper.

“Doesn’t this look lovely!” Miss Aurelia exclaimed. The table had been decorated with more of the evergreen garlands. Silver and crystal sparkled in the lamplight. “You should not have gone to so much trouble, Lady Elizabeth.”

“It is not every day we get to welcome home the hero—and his bride.”

Nick seated his fiancée at his right side and they all enjoyed a hearty supper.

“Tomorrow is the day before Christmas,” Nick said, helping himself to a wedge of raised pigeon pie. “I wrote inviting Pel to join us for a few days. I thought he might be here when we arrived.” He turned to his fiancée and said, “You remember I told you about Pelham Vickers. Pel, for short.”