Rendezvous (31 page)

“Oh, good heavens, no, but …” Clarissa broke off, her expression hunted.

“The second is that my uncle, even though a scholarly sort, has been living for some years now in London and has grown accustomed to a certain style among the women of
his acquaintance, if you see what I mean.” Augusta crossed her fingers on that last bit.

She had a hunch Sir Thomas would not notice whether a woman wore sackcloth or silk, but it would not hurt to have Clarissa make a good impression. And she knew how badly Clarissa wanted to impress Sir Thomas. At this point Clarissa no doubt had only intellectual passions in mind, but Augusta had hopes for a more fundamental relationship developing between the two. Getting Clarissa into a flattering gown was only prudent.

“I see.” Clarissa drew herself up, her eyes going to the array of new gowns in her closet. “I had not realized your uncle held opinions on female style.”

“Well, the thing is,” Augusta said in a confidential tone, “he has spent his whole life studying the lives of the ancients. And I fear that most of those women of antiquity were noted for their stylishness. Only think of Cleopatra and the fine draping on all those Greek statues.”

“Oh, dear. I see what you mean. Sir Thomas has no doubt absorbed a certain classical ideal of how a female should appear, is that what you are saying?”

Augusta smiled. “Precisely. As it happens, the gowns we have ordered for you will give you a classical silhouette and Betsy will arrange your hair in the Greek style. You shall look exactly like a goddess of antiquity when you descend the stairs tonight.”

“I shall?” Clarissa was clearly awestruck by that image.

“Betsy will see to it, won’t you, Betsy?”

Betsy bobbed a curtsy. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

Augusta’s brows rose. “I shall depend upon you, Betsy. Put Miss Fleming in the amethyst tonight, will you? Now, then, I must be off. His lordship will no doubt be pacing the floor, wondering where I am.”

Augusta rushed back downstairs to her bedchamber and threw open the door, only to discover Harry. He paused in midstride and scowled ferociously. He glanced meaningfully at the clock.

“Where the devil have you been?”

“I am very sorry, Harry.” Augusta gazed at him in deep appreciation. Harry looked elegant and powerful in his black and white evening clothes. “Clarissa balked at the notion of wearing something besides gray or brown. I had to convince her that she would severely embarrass you if she did not wear one of her new gowns.”

“I do not care in the least what Clarissa wears.”

“Yes, well, that is somewhat beside the point, my lord. Where is Meredith? I distinctly told her to be down here by half past so that we could all walk downstairs together.”

“I still feel Meredith is much too young to be allowed to attend this sort of thing,” Harry said.

“Nonsense. She has been extremely helpful in the preparations and she deserves to be allowed to participate for at least a short while. My parents always allowed me to come downstairs long enough to be introduced to their friends. Do not concern yourself, Harry. Meredith will be off to bed before you know it.”

Harry looked doubtful, but he apparently decided not to do battle over the issue. Instead he allowed his gaze to skim over Augusta’s golden gown. “I was under the impression, madam, that you were going to start ordering your gowns cut a bit higher at the neckline.”

“The dressmaker made a slight miscalculation, my lord,” Augusta said breezily. “No time to repair it now.”

“A miscalculation?” Harry took two strides forward and inserted his finger just inside the low bodice. He slid the finger slowly, tantalizingly over one nipple.

Augusta sucked in her breath, partly in shock and partly because she always reacted fiercely to his touch. “Good grief, Harry. Stop that at once.”

He slowly removed his finger, his gray eyes gleaming. “Do you know what I think, Augusta? I think the miscalculation was yours. As you will no doubt discover later this evening when I come to your room with a measuring tape.”

Augusta blinked and then laughter bubbled up inside her. “You are going to measure me, sir?”

“Most carefully.”

A knock on the door spared Augusta the necessity of answering that. She opened it and found Meredith in the hall looking very serious indeed. Augusta examined the charming little frock of white muslin which was trimmed with lace and ribbons.

“My goodness, Meredith, you look exquisite.” Augusta turned to Harry. “Does she not look wonderful, my lord?”

Harry smiled. “A diamond of the first water. In fact, I do believe both of my ladies will put all the other ladies in the shade this evening.”

Meredith’s anxious expression dissolved into a smile as she basked under her father’s approval. “You look very nice tonight, too, Papa. And so does Augusta.”

“Then let us be off to greet this houseful of people we seem to have acquired,” Harry said.

At the top of the stairs Harry took his wife’s arm and his daughter’s hand. And as the three of them descended into the hall Augusta felt a little surge of contentment.

“I vow, we look quite like a real family tonight, Harry,” she whispered as they entered the drawing room, where everyone was gathering for the evening.

He shot her a strange glance, but Augusta ignored it. She was much too busy with her duties as a hostess.

With a wide-eyed Meredith at her side, Augusta floated among the guests. She introduced her stepdaughter proudly to those who did not know her, made certain everyone was involved in a conversational group, and kept an eye on the flow of beverages.

Satisfied that all was going smoothly on this, her first social occasion as mistress in her own home, Augusta paused at a small cluster of people that consisted of Harry, Sir Thomas, Claudia, and Peter Sheldrake.

Peter grinned with relief when he saw her. “Thank God you are here, madam. I am being overwhelmed with the
details of some very ancient battles. I vow, I have lost track of which famous Greek or Roman hero did what to whom and when.”

Claudia, angelic as ever tonight in an elegant gown of palest blue trimmed with silver, smiled archly. “I fear Uncle Thomas and Graystone are off on one of their favorite topics. Mr. Sheldrake has apparently grown bored.”

Peter was aggrieved. “Not bored, Miss Ballinger. Never that. Not as long as you are near. But history is not my favorite subject and even you must admit the endless details of some very old battles do become a bit tedious after a while.”

Augusta grinned as her cousin blushed a lovely shade of pink. “Actually, Meredith and I were having a most interesting discussion about historical matters ourselves just the other day. Is that not so, Meredith?”

Meredith brightened. Her serious eyes were lit with a familiar gleam that was not unlike the expression in her father’s gaze when he was involved in a discussion of this sort.

“Oh, yes,” Meredith said quickly. “Augusta pointed out the most astonishing fact to me, one I had never noticed before. It has made me think a great deal about the ancient heroes of Greek and Roman legend.”

Sir Thomas flicked a slightly startled glance at Augusta, cleared his throat, and looked down at the girl. “And what fact is that, my dear?”

“Why, how often the heroes in the old legends were obliged to prove they could outfight or outwit a female. Augusta says that fact demonstrates that the ancients knew that women can be very strong and fierce. Just as strong and fierce as men. She says we do not know nearly enough about the ladies of the classics. Aunt Clarissa agrees with her.”

A startled silence greeted this unexpected remark.

“Good Lord,” Sir Thomas muttered. “I had not thought about that. What a singular notion.”

Harry’s brow rose as his eyes rested on Augusta. “I must
admit, I had never put the facts in quite that light,” he murmured.

Meredith nodded seriously. “Only think, Papa, about the famous female monsters the ancient heroes had to overcome. There was Medusa and Circe and the Sirens and a great many others.”

“Amazons,” Claudia said, looking quite thoughtful. “The old Greeks and Romans were always exceedingly concerned about fighting off Amazons, were they not? It does give one pause. We are always being told that women are the weaker sex.”

Peter chuckled, a rueful expression in his eyes. “I, for one, have never underestimated the ability of the female of the species to make herself a most wily adversary.”

“Nor I,” Harry said softly. “But I much prefer the ladies when they are in a friendlier frame of mind.”

“Yes, well, a man would, would he not?” Augusta said blithely. “So much easier for him that way.”

Sir Thomas was scowling in grave consideration. “I say, Graystone, this is an interesting notion. Outlandish, but interesting. It makes one realize that we do not know a great deal about the women of the Greek and Roman cultures. Just the name of the occasional queen. And there are bits and bobs of poetry that have survived, of course.”

“Such as the beautiful love poems by Sappho,” Augusta put in cheerfully.

Harry gave her a sharp glance. “I did not know you read that sort of thing, my dear.”

“Yes, well, you know my frivolous nature, sir.”

“Yes, but
Sappho?
”

“She wrote most charmingly of the feelings love produces in a person.”

“Damn it, as far as we know she wrote most of those poems to other women—” Harry broke off, aware of Meredith’s fascinated gaze.

“I suspect the feelings engendered by true love are
universal,” Augusta said thoughtfully. “Both men and women can succumb to them. Don’t you agree, my lord?”

Harry scowled. “I think,” he said grimly, “that is quite enough on the subject for now.”

“Of course, my lord.” Augusta’s attention was diverted by the sight of a newcomer in the doorway. “Oh, look, there is Miss Fleming. Does she not appear quite stunning this evening?”

Everyone automatically glanced around to where Clarissa stood gazing uneasily into the crowded drawing room. She was wearing the deep amethyst satin gown that Augusta had chosen for her and her hair was done in a classical chignon secured by a fillet. She held herself proudly, shoulders back, chin outthrust, as she prepared to face the uncomfortable social situation.

“Good God,” Harry muttered, and took a swallow of his claret. “Never saw Aunt Clarissa looking quite like that before.”

Sir Thomas was riveted. He stared at the figure in the doorway. “I say, Augusta, who did you say this was?”

“One of Graystone’s relations. A most intelligent female, Uncle. You will find her extremely interesting. She has been doing some research on the very subject we were just discussing.”

“Has she, indeed? I say, I should like to talk more about the matter with her.”

Augusta smiled, satisfied with the reaction. “Yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and fetch her.”

“By all means,” Sir Thomas said hastily.

Augusta detached herself from the group and headed toward the door to catch hold of Clarissa before the older woman lost her nerve and dashed back up the stairs.

“I must say, Augusta, this is turning out to be a most entertaining house party,” Claudia declared the following evening as she and Augusta stepped out of the crowded
ballroom for some fresh air and privacy. “The trip to the seaside at Weymouth today was great fun.”

“Thank you.”

Back in the ballroom the musicians struck up a country dance and the guests took the floor enthusiastically. In addition to the elegantly dressed visitors from London, the colorfully garbed local gentry were out in full force. Every Graystone neighbor for miles around had been invited to the ball. Augusta had laid on a lavish buffet, including plenty of champagne.

Well aware that it was the first time in many years that such an event had been held at the great house, Augusta had wanted everything to be perfect and she was secretly delighted with the results. It was obvious that a talent for entertaining ran in the blood of her branch of the Ballinger family.

“I am delighted you and Uncle Thomas were able to come down to Dorset.” Augusta paused beside a circular stone fountain and took a deep breath of the cool night air. “For so long I have wanted to be able to thank you properly for all you have done for me since Richard was killed.”

“Really, Augusta. No thanks are necessary.”

“You and your father were very good to me in London, Claudia. I fear I sometimes did not always express my gratitude properly, nor was I able to repay you.”

Claudia gazed into the shadowed pool of the fountain. “You repaid us in ways that you did not even guess, Augusta. I realize that now.”

Augusta looked up quickly. “That is very kind of you, cousin, but we both know I was something of a nuisance in your household.”

“Never that.” Claudia smiled gently. “Unconventional and unpredictable and sometimes extremely unsettling, but never a nuisance. You rather brightened things up, you know. I would never have gone out into Society if it had not been for you. I would never have experienced Pompeia’s or
had an opportunity to get to know Lady Arbuthnott.” She paused. “I would never have met Peter Sheldrake.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Sheldrake. I must say he appears quite enchanted by you, Claudia. How do you feel about him?”

Claudia studied the satin tips of her dancing slippers and then raised her eyes to meet Augusta’s inquiring gaze. “I fear I find him most charming, Augusta, although I do not understand why. His compliments are frequently too warm to be quite proper and he sometimes infuriates me with his teasing. But I am convinced that beneath that devil-may-care exterior that he presents to the world, he is really quite intelligent. I sense a serious side to his nature that he is careful to conceal.”

“I do not doubt it. He is, after all, a close friend of Graystone’s. I like Mr. Sheldrake, Claudia. Indeed, I have always liked him. I feel he would be good for you. And you would be good for him. He needs a stable and calming influence.”

Claudia’s mouth curved in a rueful smile. “Are you going on the theory that opposites may attract?”

“Certainly. Only consider my own situation.” Augusta wrinkled her nose. “No two people could be as opposite as Graystone and I.”