Lois Menzel (19 page)

“How are the children?” Anne asked.

“They are well. Busy with their studies. I have never known Tom to apply himself with such energy to anything. Mr. Pearce has worked wonders with him.”

“And Belinda?”

“She was uncomfortable for a time with Miss Twigg, but I think she is getting on much better now. She misses you.”

“I miss her, too. But she writes to me nearly every week. What of Mr. Pearce? Have you remained friends?”

“We have. I often listen to him play. We went for a ride together once and even walked to the lake one evening after dinner.”

“You like him more than a little, don’t you?” Anne asked tentatively.

“I do, yes. I find myself liking him more each day. Unfortunately, I believe he finds me frivolous. He keeps me always at a distance; there is a reserve. Perhaps he ...” She hesitated, conscious of Mrs. Boone listening to every word. “Perhaps he has not forgotten the rose garden.”

“But I thought you said he understood?”

“He said he did.”

“Then, I believe you should take him at his word,” Anne offered.

“Perhaps,” Arelia returned. “Time will tell.”

“Has Lord Tenbury come to town?” Anne asked carefully, trying to sound as if Arelia’s answer would be of only passing interest to her.

“No. He and Jack left last week for the races. I believe they planned on going first to York, then to Newmarket for the St. Leger. I cannot precisely recall. Tenbury has been moody of late. Snaps at a person for no apparent reason. Imagine this: he informed me that I need not bother to clutter the Castle with beautiful women for the hunting season. ‘I am weary of your matchmaking schemes, Arelia,’ he said. He told me to invite what friends I wished and he would invite his, but that I should leave my matrimonial candidates to someone else, for he’d had his fill of them.”

Then, typically, Arelia changed the subject suddenly. “What are you doing this afternoon? Will you come with me to Collette’s? I am having a new ball gown fitted. I should love you to see it. And if you plan on attending ton parties yourself, we will keep Collette busy cutting gowns for you.”

“Perhaps I shall not be invited to parties.”

“No chance of that, dear Anne, no chance at all.”

During the following days, Anne took part in what she afterward described as a frenzy of shopping. With Arelia as her guide and adviser, she was certain she visited every fashionable shop the city held. She was equally certain she purchased something from each of them.

Every day parcels and packages arrived at her house, delivered from the dressmakers or the milliners or the cobblers. Into the empty drawers of her dressing room were stowed stockings and filmy underclothing, gloves and shawls and delicate dancing slippers. In seemingly no time the huge, nearly empty wardrobe was brimming with gowns of every description—walking dresses, morning dresses, evening gowns, and ball gowns of sea green and orchid, apricot, indigo, and vermilion.

Anne’s first public appearance was at a small dinner party held by Lady Tenbury at Tenbury House and including only twenty of her closest friends. Anne had chosen to wear a gown of Prussian blue that made her eyes appear darker green. She stood before the mirror in her bedchamber, admiring the dressmaker’s skill in fashioning the gown.

Tiny pleats fell from a high waistline banded by a piece of wide ribbon that was drawn into a bow at the back. Short puffed sleeves emerged from a modest neckline to overlay long sheer sleeves that buttoned at the wrist, while row upon row of delicate ruffles whispered about her ankles. A pair of slippers, short gloves, and a single strand of pearls with matching earrings completed her ensemble.

She stood for a long time regarding the woman in the reflection. Here was a woman she knew well, but a woman the polite world had yet to meet. Clearly she remembered the duke’s warning that she would be treated differently now that she was a woman of substance. She hoped in her case, he might be wrong. As frightening as it was to enter a stratum of society heretofore unknown to her, it was even more frightening to think she would meet with mendacity or hypocrisy there.

Anne had attended  small gatherings with her father in Cambridgeshire, including several at Sir Hugo Scoville’s. She had danced with the young gentlemen who asked her, but she was shy, so enjoyed most to sit and listen to others talk, seldom taking part in a conversation herself. At Lady Tenbury’s party she found she was no longer tongue-tied. When the gentlemen seated to her right and left at dinner addressed comments to her, she was more than willing to converse with them. As a result, the evening passed pleasantly.

Having introduced Anne in this subtle way to some of the leaders of society, Lady Tenbury suspected that within a few days Anne would receive invitations to various functions. This was indeed the case.

Since Anne had offered nothing definitive about her circumstances, it was left to the London rumor mill to fill in the unknowns concerning this new arrival on the social scene. At first the curious had little to go on: Miss Anne Waverly, formerly of Cambridgeshire, had recently come into an inheritance. She was acquainted with the Saunders family, in itself an excellent recommendation. As she was often seen in company with Lady Tenbury or Mrs. Saunders, clearly the relationship was of some standing. A trifle of information was added when someone said they were familiar with the estate Miss Waverly had inherited in Lincolnshire. Tidy little property, they said. After several of the more curious made morning calls on Miss Waverly at her residence in Charles Street, they reported that she was surrounded in her gracious home by precious Eastern art objects. Once even this meager information had circulated the town, it was clear to one and all that a single woman in possession of such property was someone worth noting.

Anne, not a master at pretext or dissembling, accepted all her new acquaintance on an equal footing, without prejudice. She saw none of the deceit and dishonesty the duke had warned her of. She smiled at those who smiled upon her and enjoyed her acceptance into Arelia’s world.

When she was formally introduced to several of the guests who had been present at Tenton Castle in the summer, their reactions varied. She was certain Lord Wilmington knew her instantly, but after only a slight flicker of surprise, he bowed gallantly at Arelia’s introduction and proclaimed himself pleased to make her acquaintance.

When Anne realized she was to be seated near Lady Mason at a dinner party she spoke to Arelia in an anxious aside, “What shall I do if she recognizes me?”

“It is not likely she will. Persons of her self-importance consider it beneath their dignity to remember the names and faces of insignificant others. But if she does, you need only tell the truth: you were a governess who came into an inheritance.” But when Anne was introduced to Lady Mason, the lady greeted her with a rigid, bored smile, and not the slightest spark of recognition.

It was nearing the end of September before the Earl of Tenbury and his brother Jack arrived in London. After a brief greeting to his mother, who happened to be home when he arrived, Tenbury went off to White’s to spend the afternoon with friends he had not seen in several months. They first discussed the results of the St. Leger, run several days earlier. Within a few minutes, however, one of the men asked Tenbury if he could shed any light on the worth of the new heiress.

“Which heiress would that be, Peabody?”

“Miss Waverly, of course. The whole town is wondering.”

So Miss Waverly had come to town. Tenbury was surprised but took care to hide it as he asked, “Why should I know more than the next man?”

“She seems thick as thieves with your sister-in-law and has driven out more than once with Lady Tenbury. I assumed you might know—”

“I have little interest in the fortunes of my mother’s friends, Peabody. I fear I cannot supply the information you seek.”

“I told you he would not know,” the man beside Peabody said sourly. “It has been kept mighty close. But you can bet it is considerable; the plain ones always have the heaviest purses.”

Tenbury was tempted to say he did not find Miss Waverly in the least plain, but he thought better of it. No one seemed aware that she had served in his house as governess. It would be best if he admitted to a slight acquaintance only. He must warn Jack to be on his guard for questions about Anne.

Peabody’s friend soon spoke again. “I don’t know why you are interested. She will take a title in the end; they always do. Why should she settle for the likes of us, when she can make herself a lady. I have put my money on Farringdon. Of the three, he has the best chance.”

“Of the three?” Tenbury asked politely.

“The three who have set a bet upon the books.”

Instantly angry and again forced to hide it, Tenbury adroitly led the conversation to another subject. Later, after Peabody and his friend were gone, he had recourse to White’s betting book and after a brief perusal found the entry the men spoke of. “Farringdon, Crilley, and Blake wager five-hundred pounds each, the losers to pay the winner upon his marriage to Miss A. W., newest heiress on the town.”

Those three! He would be surprised if they could scrape together five hundred among them. Farringdon held the highest rank, and was often bailed out of his gambling embarrassments by an over-indulgent father. When he did inherit the earldom, Tenbury had no doubt he would run through his fortune in record time. Crilley was a baron with mortgaged lands he had probably never set foot upon. His extravagant living had outrun his income for years. Tenbury was not the least surprised to find him pursuing an heiress. Blake was an impoverished Adonis of thirty who periodically allowed himself to be kept by older, wealthy women.

Taken altogether, they were not a wholesome lot. Tenbury wondered if Arelia had sufficiently warned Anne about them. She might be wealthy, but she didn’t know chalk from cheese when it came to dealing with men.

Suddenly uneasy at the club, Tenbury collected his hat and gloves. Arelia would be home to dress for the evening. He must speak with her.

Chapter 15

When the earl returned to Tenbury House, he found his sister-in-law resting in her sitting room before undertaking the rigors of a ball that evening.

She was, as always, pleased to see him. “Tenbury! So you have finally come to town. How were the races?”

“Much like all races,” he replied shortly. “Arelia, I must speak with you about Miss Waverly.”

“You know she has come to town, then.”

“I could hardly help but know. Within minutes of arriving at my club I was parrying questions about the size of her fortune.”

“I’m not surprised. It is the latest
on dit
. The mere lack of information seems to make people all the more curious.”

“What have you said?”

“Nothing. How could I? I know nothing. I would never be vulgar enough to ask Anne, and if she did tell me anything, I would never share it with sordid tattlemongers. Why are you letting it trouble you? I am sure it is the same with every new heiress. People wish to know everything. They will eventually lose interest, and the gossip will subside.”

“It troubles me because I do not like to see bets laid at the club about people I care for.”

Arelia’s eyes widened in surprise. “They are placing wagers about Anne?”

“About who will ultimately lead her to the altar, yes.”

“How awful!”

“Is she aware—does she know she has false admirers?” he asked. “Have you warned her?”

“I have not. But the Duke of Chadwicke did. She told me so. And I believe she took his warning to heart. She is not a foolish schoolgirl, Nate.”

“No, but she is both innocent and inexperienced, and she has no one to protect her. She has no idea of the snares that might be laid for her by those anxious to acquire her wealth. How long has she been in town?”

“A little more than two weeks.”

“Have you seen her with Crilley, Blake, or Farringdon?”

“I saw her dancing last night with Lord Farringdon. But she dances with many men.”

“What of the others?”

“I believe she drove out once with Lord Blake.”

“And Crilley?”

She shook her head. “I do not think so. But you know there is always such a crush of people at social gatherings. I have not been in the habit of watching her.”

“Well, if you value her, you would be well advised to keep watch over her. You might warn her as well, particularly about those three.”

“Are they the ones who placed the wager?”

Avoiding a direct answer, he replied, “Not a word about this, Arelia, to anyone. If you see Jack before I do, warn him that he may be questioned about Miss Waverly.”

That evening, Tenbury decided to accompany Arelia and his mother to the Margate’s ball. He considered Miss Waverly’s decision to come to London an unfortunate one, yet he could not resist attending on the chance he might see her. Her disapproval of his behavior had seriously damaged their relationship, but it had in no way diminished his regard for her.

Tenbury did not see Anne among the guests, but within an hour after their arrival, he found Arelia at his side.

“Walk with me, Tenbury,” she said, “I must speak with you.”

She took his arm, and they strolled together from the ball room into an adjoining reception room that was less crowded and offered more privacy. “I have just learned from a mutual acquaintance that Anne attended a masquerade tonight at Vauxhall Gardens with Lord Crilley.”

“What?” Tenbury asked in an astonished undertone. “Who else made up the party?”

“Lord and Lady Sumner.”

“I don’t know them.”

“Nor do I.”

“I can nearly guarantee you they are intimates of Crilley, however,” he replied. “I fear I must leave, Arelia. Please make my apologies to my mother.”

As he tried to turn away, Arelia kept his arm. “Nate. You had best stop first in Charles Street to discover what color she is wearing. Otherwise it could be impossible in a large crowd—”

“That is an excellent notion; I will do so.” He patted her hand briefly, then was gone.