June Calvin (15 page)

Chapter Eighteen

A
s the groomsman was summoned, Davida watched her father scrawl a hasty letter, sand it, and seal it with a flourish. Her mother silently crossed the room and sat in an ancient but comfortable overstuffed chair, watching her husband as he penned a second, shorter note.

Davida sank into a chair beside her mother and listened as he instructed Robert to go to the duke’s secretary. “This note will instruct him to let you have a fast horse. You are to ride as quickly as possible to Harwood Court. Here, take this purse—hire fresh horses as needed. I’m hoping you can be there by tomorrow morning. No later than midday. Can you do that?”

Robert’s eyes were shining. The opportunity to ride prime bits of blood neck or nothing about the countryside obviously appealed to him. “Yes, sir. Indeed I can, sir. And am I to await a response?”

“No. The duke himself shall bring the response.”

A silence descended on the three as they watched Robert jauntily walk from the room.

“George, I hope you have not done anything outrageous. The duke . . .”

“I’ve known Justin since he was an unlicked cub. If I can not tell him a few home truths, I don’t know who can.”

“He’s always respected you, dear, and rightly so. Still, he can be quite stiff-necked at times.”

“That’s as may be. Let’s have tea, I’m famished.”

Davida watched in some awe as her father dismissed with a wave of his hand the Duke of Harwood. He might indeed have known him since he was an “unlicked cub,” but today the duke was an urbane, sophisticated, and somewhat enigmatic person, and Davida could not imagine telling him what to do. Still, she wished her father success, for Sarah’s sake if for no other reason. Fancy your own father not attending your come-out ball!

As the date of Davida and Sarah’s ball approached, they were engulfed in a whirlwind of activity, of constant to-ing and fro-ing from the Greshams’ home to Lady D’Alatri’s, to the ducal mansion. In addition to his secretary, the duke had sent his own capable French chef, who was coordinating the contributions of the Gresham and D’Alatri kitchens, plus those of caterers. Decorators must be supervised, link-boys hired, and Gresham and D’Alatri servants fitted out in Harwood livery in order to assist at the ball.

Once it became known that the Prince Regent was attending, acceptances that had been withheld came pouring in. Also, at her father’s suggestion Monty had given Davida a list of relations and special friends of his to invite. Thus the already large guest list expanded. If all came who accepted, it was going to be a squeeze, even in the duke’s palatial ballroom. Davida was a little overwhelmed by the prospect, but Pelham was gleeful. “What a triumph, love. You’ll be a
succes fou
, and deservedly so!”

“A mad success. Yes, if I don’t go mad with these frantic preparations,” she tossed back.

Just then an urgent message came to them from Sarah. They were in the Greshams’ morning room, completing the place cards for the dinner to be served to intimate friends before the ball began. Pelham had willingly offered his assistance in writing them and in planning the seating. He was much more knowledgeable about who took precedence over whom, and who should be seated far apart to prevent hostilities from breaking out.

Their task was made that much more complicated because they had to make up two seating plans, one if the duke attended, and one if he didn’t. “Thank goodness Prinny didn’t accept for dinner, too,” Pelham said with a chuckle as they discussed the complex problem.

“What can Sarah want, I wonder? And why did she not just come here?” Davida shoved an errant lock off her forehead, feeling rather put-upon.

“We’ll soon know. Come, we’ll walk. The exercise will do us both good, and we will get there before we could have the horses put to the carriage.” After informing her mother, who was diligently addressing wedding invitations, Davida walked out with Pelham, smiling with pleasure at the sun and fair skies.

At Lady D’Alatri’s, they found Sarah and her aunt entertaining a distinguished-looking young man who introduced himself as an equerry in the service of the Prince Regent. He had come to instruct them on the protocol involved in entertaining His Royal Highness. The women listened with eager faces, Davida making notes as he talked. Pelham leaned back in his chair, swinging one leg over the other and looking very amused.

After the equerry left, Davida took him to task. “Just what did you find so humorous, sirrah?”

“Ah, forgive me. My republican tendencies are showing. All this folderol about precedence and protocol. How I envy the Americans!”

Sarah was uninterested in Pelham’s political views at the moment. “Wasn’t he the handsomest creature you’ve ever seen?”

Eyebrows raised, Davida and Lady D’Alatri stared at Sarah. She had paid no attention at all to any of the dozens.of young men who had attempted to court her.

“Gregory had best look to his mettle,” Davida said with a laugh.

“Perhaps he had! He’s not even written me, and I’ve written him almost every day. And that Lord Meade is all the crack! Handsome and well spoken, and with influence, too. Just think of working directly with the Prince Regent!”

Pelham laughed. “A third son, Sarah, his title is merely honorary. If his family was not so plump in the pocket, he’d be training for a parson or a soldier.”

Heatedly Sarah snapped, “I don’t care about that! What matters is that he’s so . . . polite and, well, kind.”

“Too bad it is so late in the game, I would write Gregory Allensby and tell him to get up here to protect his interests!” Davida laughed. “But the ball is tomorrow night.”

Cast down, Sarah nodded. “And Gregory has never bothered to reply to my invitation.”

The day of the ball dawned as clear and as beautiful as the one before. Lady Elizabeth insisted that Davida have an easy day, sleeping late and spending most of her time on grooming, so as to be rested for the ball.

Davida donned her gown that evening with trepidation, hoping she had not lost any more weight. To her relief, it still fit quite perfectly. Her sapphire necklace solaced her for the white dress. Her hair was artfully arranged by the hairdresser hired for the occasion. He had fashioned a dainty circlet of blue-and-white flowers similar to those decorating the ballroom, and fit it skillfully among her dark curls. “
Parfaítement
,” he exclaimed in a very phony French accent.
“Vous est très adorable.”

Her maid seconded the opinion. “Oh, yes, miss. It is just right for you. Simple, yet elegant.”

Davida smiled. “Well, I hope I will do.” She turned around in front of her mirror, and privately thought she looked very fine, indeed.

Pelham apparently agreed. When he called for her and her parents to go to the ducal mansion for dinner, he whispered in her ear, “Exquisite.” She smiled up at him, her spirits high.

They received a further boost when Sarah met them at the door, crowing, “Papa has come after all. He just arrived two hours ago. He will be down shortly.”

Most of the dinner guests were assembled by the time the duke joined them. He looked, as usual, like the very pattern card of a duke. If there were lines of strain around his eyes and in the set of his mouth, only those who knew him best were aware of them. As Davida drew Monty over to introduce the two, she felt a pang of sympathy. Her father’s old friend had been forced at last to return to the house where his wife had died, and it was clearly costing him.

But nothing of this showed in his manner as he acknowledged Pelham politely. Turning to Davida, one eyebrow arched, he said, “Then I take it I am not to have to marry you after all?”

Davida was surprised to find that he did indeed remember his teasing remark. She grinned pertly at him. “No, Your Grace. Are you not vastly relieved?”

“Vastly,” Harwood intoned dryly. “But you are a fortunate young man, Pelham, as I hope you know.”

“Indeed I do, Your Grace, I thank you.”

At that moment dinner was announced. Pelham’s table arrangement seemed to work, as all went smoothly, and the elaborate meal was much praised. By the time it was over, it was time to take up their places in the receiving line for the ball, so the men did not linger over their port.

Davida had smiled so much her cheeks ached by the time she had greeted, it seemed, the entire
ton
except the Prince and his party. They were not expected to arrive until after supper.

At last the duke suggested that they go in. The ball would be opened by himself and Sir Charles, dancing with their daughters in a minuet. Davida had been practicing the stately older dance so as not to disgrace herself, and from that moment until the supper dance never knew a moment’s rest, as partner after partner claimed her.

The supper dance was a waltz, and she went happily into Pelham’s arms. “What did I tell you, love?
Un succes fou
!” he whispered triumphantly as he whirled her around.

“Oh, I do hope so. At least it is a squeeze. If Prinny does not appear, we shall be in the suds.”

“He rarely fails to show when he has committed himself, I’m told. I’m pleased to see you’ve changed your mind. You were upset when he first accepted, I seem to recall.”

“Well, it is a little daunting, entertaining the one who is, to all purposes, one’s sovereign. I was afraid I’d make a mull of it.”

“Never did I doubt your ability to cope.” Pelham smiled down at her. “You will make a fine political wife, though Prinny may be less than pleased to find you on the Whig side. I shall rely on you to turn him up sweet. Perhaps we can return him to the Whig fold.”

Davida shook her head. “If I can just get through without disgracing myself, I shall be relieved.”

Pelham smiled tenderly. “You underestimate yourself. But I was funning, actually. I don’t want you having anything more to do with that old libertine than absolutely necessary.”

The train of thought this engendered made Davida’s pink cheeks rosier than ever, and she looked away in embarrassment—to see Lady Elspeth standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring at them. “Oh!” She missed a step.

“What is it?”

“When did she arrive? I hadn’t supposed she would attend.”

Pelham followed her gaze and then snorted. “Elspeth stay away form the ball of the season, with Prinny coming? How little you know her! Do you dislike it?”

Davida looked up at him. “Of course not. I know we must meet often. It would be unwise of me to let my sensibilities be affected.”

“Wise as well as beautiful.” He gave her a swift whirl just as the music was ending, then led her from the floor with a flourish.

Sarah’s face glowed with pleasure as she and her father welcomed Davida to their table. Her pleasure was partly for the success of the ball, but mostly because beside her was Gregory Allensby, who had come up with the duke for the ball. A shy, quiet young man, he had not joined them until the party was in full swing.

Before the second half of the ball began, Davida and Sarah decided to go to the withdrawing room set aside for the ladies. They found the room a very busy place as young and not-so-young women put hair to rights or touched up cheeks with pinches or rouge. Just as they were leaving, Lady Elspeth entered. She rushed up to Davida. “Miss Gresham, I must have a word with you.”

Alarmed, Davida replied, “We cannot, not here.”

“Come with me, then. There is a small study just this way.” Davida reluctantly followed, ignoring Sarah’s hissed advice to refuse. When she entered the room behind Elspeth, the latter turned on her. “You promised me you would break off with him. You promised!”

“I said I would if it was what he wanted, Lady Elspeth. But he doesn’t. He insisted we continue our engagement. We are to be married in . . .”

“I know when, but you mustn’t. He loves
me
, I tell you! I went to see him the day after the Duke of Ormond’s ball, to tell him you were willing to cry off. He refused to allow it. He told me it would be dishonorable and might damage your chances of making a match. He didn’t want to hurt you. His very words were, ‘I could never do anything so shabby to Davida.’ ”

A wave of agony washed over Davida. Was Elspeth telling the truth? Before she could think of a reply, the door burst open behind them. Pelham entered swiftly, followed by Lady Howard and Sarah. Elspeth retreated a step. “Come, dear,” her mother said in a tone that indicated she would take no refusal. “Your partner is looking for you for this dance.”

Pelham glared at her retreating form as Elspeth left the room, eyes downcast. “What did she say to you?”

“She wants me to cry off.”

“The devil! You’ll do no such thing. I take it you told her?”

Just then the music suddenly stopped, and a fanfare was heard. “Oh, no, the Prince!” With Pelham right behind her, Davida fairly flew to the front of the house, finding her place in the receiving line just in time. She watched His Royal Highness greet the Duke of Harwood, exclaim with pleasure over his daughter, whom he pronounced lovely, and then greet her father. “Sir Charles, it is a pleasure. I remember reading your name in the dispatches when I was a youngster trying to learn my future duties. A brave soldier!”

Obviously pleased, Sir Charles gave him another deep bow, then presented his wife and daughter to the rotund Prince. “Enchanting,” the Regent exclaimed as her mother sank into her deepest court curtsy. “I am sorry I have not met your family before, Sir Charles.” He raised her mother, looking her over with pleasure as he did so.

Davida, still somewhat breathless, also curtsied deeply and then smiled as the Prince, all affability, raised her. “I must have a dance with each of these three ladies,” he informed them. “Lady Sarah, will you do me the honor?”

Davida watched in awe as the Prince led her friend onto the dance floor. The Prince signified that the duke should join them, so he gave his arm to Lady Elizabeth and the four began a minuet. After several moments other dancers joined, and Davida turned to Pelham, limp with relief. “Thank you for rescuing me, Monty. What a disgrace if I had missed his entrance.”

“I would like to wring Elspeth’s neck, but I shall do something much better, which is ignore her entirely.” Pelham’s brow knit as if worried. “I hope that aging roué doesn’t ask you to waltz with him.”