Ridiculous (20 page)

Shoffer, she knew, would die of shock if she suggested appearing in public in such smelly secondhand clothing, so she would not ask him to countenance it.

With luck and a little fast talking, her alternate plan would carry her through.

* * *

When Shoffer collected her the next morning, he was surprised to see her carrying several packages bound up with brown paper and string.

“It is customary to return from shopping with burdens, Mr. North,” said Shoffer, poking one with a fingertip and wrinkling his nose at the odor that rose from it. “Not depart.”

Millicent arranged the packages on the seat beside her and refused to respond to the hint. “Shall we go to Tattersall's after the tailor's? It is my observation that carriages move so slowly along the streets that a horse is better for getting about if the distance is too far for walking.”

Still staring at the parcels, Shoffer responded. “I brought down that mare you favored from my own stables. It is in the mews behind my house. Have one of your footmen run across to fetch it whenever you need it.”

“Oh, excellent. That is very kind. And speaking of kindness, my cousin is overwhelmed to receive her first
ton
invitation. If it were not necessary to present it at the door, I believe she would have it framed and hung in the front hall.”

Shoffer smiled.

“She may frame it with my blessing. We are all invited to dine with the Englethorpes before the ball begins. A singular honor, I hope you know. I shall come by to collect your family so she will not be required to present her invitation.”

“Oh, excellent. The ladies will be pleased.”

The journey to the tailor’s was an unusual one in Shoffer's experience. His own first trip to London had been accomplished in the presence of his late father and uncle, both of whom discouraged youthful curiosity and bouncing about by dent of much frowning and scowling and one slap across the back of his head. Mr. North felt no compunction toward restrained behavior in Shoffer's presence. Indeed, Shoffer was convinced that even his father would have found it difficult to keep North in his seat. Disdaining even the appearance of fashionable ennui, North slid across the polished leather seat from one window to the other, dropping the glass and leaning out the better to peer at the buildings and the fashionable people strolling the sidewalks. There was nothing that did not excite his interest and Shoffer found himself cast into the role of tour guide for his country friend.

“You will save yourself much humiliation, Mr. North, if you remember not to display your ignorance in society,” scolded Shoffer, when they disembarked at the tailor's shop front.

“Oh, bother that, Your Gracefulness.” North stood, hands full of his damned packages and gazed openly up and down the crowded street. “I will not laugh at jokes if they are not funny nor pretend to understand gossip if I do not. And I shall not remain in ignorance if there are books that can enlighten me.”

With that the annoying man detoured toward a publisher’s shop just two doors away from the tailor.

“Oh, no,” cried Shoffer, seizing his friend by the upper arm. “Books are for later. A reward for good behavior.” He dragged North forcibly through the door of the tailor’s establishment, bundles and all. “Lord above, you are worse than a litter of untrained puppies.”

Mr. Nestor was a tailor so exclusive, so proud and disdainful, that he routinely effected to be offended when approached to sell his wares. More than one presumptive
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buck crept out of his store empty-handed, ashamed for having suggested Mr. Nestor engaged in something as demeaning as “trade.”

It could, therefore, be assumed that Mr. Nestor had never met anyone resembling Mr. North.

Shoffer watched in amazement as North pushed aside the fabrics delicately arranged on a table and began undoing the knots of his parcels.

“There you are,” he cried, as Mr. Nestor emerged through a curtain. North opened the package revealing a neatly folded coat of uncertain provenance. “My friend the duke here informs me you are a dab hand with the needle. Excellent. As you can probably tell even across a crowded room, I am in dire need of new clothes.” He paused and smiled at the shocked Mr. Nestor. “I do not expect you to make me over in the duke's image. I know I lack in many respects, the necessary … ah … style? Gravitas? Shoulders? However, I do know what I want.”

North pulled out the coat and held it up for the tailor's inspection.

“This style suits me, well enough I think, or close to it. Be a good fellow and do me a couple like this, the size is close enough, in a good blue and black.” He pulled trousers and satin pantaloons out of another package. “And these, they are my length. Waistcoats, I suppose I shall need. Maybe I should leave the colors to you, assured as I am of your superior judgment.”

By this time the tailor was gasping for air – for many reasons, including the stale stench rising from the secondhand clothing.

Next, North reached into his coat pocket and drew out his purse, counting out, as the tailor's eyes grew round as saucers, a pile of gold sovereigns, which he tossed onto the pile of clothing.

“I expect I have to go elsewhere for silk stockings and linens,” said North.

The tailor raised a trembling hand and pointed in the opposite direction of the bookstore.

“Excellent. Such a helpful fellow. Goodness, it is a relief to lessen the weight of that purse. It was beginning to make me walk lopsided. Well, now. I do not need anything immediately for day wear, but I shall need something for a ball on Saturday. Make me all that you think necessary, suitable for
ton
events. Have it sent around when you are finished. My card.” North dropped a card, so newly printed that the ink was still scented, onto the pile of clothing and money and granted the tailor a bow. “I know we shall get along famously. Your good health, sir.” And with that Mr. North swept from the store, a gasping duke trailing in his wake.

A few steps past the tailor’s, Mr. North stopped and turned to face Shoffer, such an entirely innocent expression on his face that the duke collapsed laughing.

“One thing I must say about you, Mr. North,” said Shoffer, when he had regained his composure. “Life is never dull.”

“Your servant,” said North with a grin.

“Although, you do yourself no good at all by paying so much in advance. The shopkeepers will never accept your account when it gets out.”

“I shall survive.”

“But the others of the
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. The ones who live on credit from quarter day to quarter day, they will hunt you down for paying cash!”

“Shoffer,” came the cry from a nearby open carriage. “Back in town, are you?”

Shoffer recognized the voice and took his time turning. Not so quickly as to indicate an interest in the person who hailed him so familiarly, and not so slowly that offense could lead to insult.

The carriage contained three men past their prime years, but not yet in the dotage. All were dressed in the first stare of foppish fashion, which was a shame since the brilliant red, blue, and purple hues of their waistcoats only enhanced the similar colors of their noses.

“Ah,” said North, in a voice so soft only Shoffer could hear. “So
that
is what dissipated looks like.”

“Degenerate, also,” muttered the duke and took only one step closer to the carriage. “Mickleton, Benson, and De Clerk. Yes, as you see, I am back for the opening of Parliament.”

“And for the season,” said the tallest, leaning across to speak in a confidential manner to his fellows, but without lowering his voice in the slightest. “He has a sister to fire off. Such a sweet little morsel. All pink and creamy softness.”

“Oh? Really?” A pale, balding gentleman with watery blue eyes replied. “Perhaps we should call? When is her at-home?”

“Do not exercise yourselves,” said Shoffer, allowing just enough coldness to enter his voice to make the polite words a threat. It would do Beth no good at all to have that clowder of old cats cluttering up her drawing room.

“Shall you present your new friend to us?” inquired the last, and eldest. “He has a fresh country face. I can see you have taken over the dressing of him. That can only be to his benefit.”

“Tell Nestor not to waste too much fabric on his unmentionables,” said the first and all three broke into giggles.

Shoffer found himself feeling almost as protective of Mr. North as he was of his sister. Despite all his clowning, North was an innocent. There was no malice in his jests. No harm at all. He would not for the world expose North to such degenerates, but there was nothing for it; the forms must be observed and introductions performed.

“Mr. North of Yorkshire, the Earls of Wallingford and Trentonlie and the Comte of Le Forhend.”

The men exchanged head bobs and bows. To Shoffer's complete surprise his friend did not begin his usual clowning. In fact, beyond the neat bow, he made no move to acknowledge the existence of the other three. After a pause containing no conversation the Earl of Wallingford affected to check his fob watch.

“We must be going, Your Grace. We are expected at … well. We must not be stingy. There are any number of at-homes that we must honor with our bachelor presence.”

“Do not let me delay you,” said Shoffer and stepped back out of the range of the splatter from the wheels.

“Those three should be beyond the pale,” continued Shoffer, when the carriage was well away. “Warn your cousins to stay clear of them.”

“Do not worry for my cousins.” North's eyes were uncharacteristically shadowed and grave. “They know very well how to keep their shoes clear of horse droppings. They seemed pleased to see you … in the same manner as a fox regards a chicken. Why is that?”

“I know not and care less. They are not of my set, being older and more degenerate than any in London. Avoid them, insult them as you please. I will not be offended.” Shoffer paused and added. “Attelweir travels with them when he is in London.”

“That is information enough,” said Mr. North, folding his hands neatly. “But we should not let them put a damper on the day. Silk stockings, I believe, are next on my list. And I have a whim to put silver buckles on my garters.”

“Dear God,” sighed Shoffer.

“’Twas your idea to change my dress.” North reminded him, maliciously, Shoffer thought.

“And here I receive my just punishment.”

* * *

The formal dinner at Lady Englethorpes’ residence was the first foray into London society for the ladies of the Boarder family. Beyond the immediate Englethorpes family, there would be few guests at the pre-ball dinner. Shoffer and Beth were the guests of honor and would have been placed at the head of the table except for Shoffer's particular request that the girls of the Boarder family be placed near Beth. Mildred's and Maude's manners were genteel enough to show their earlier upbringing was good, but lacking in a few finer points which Lady Beth gave softly to them between the courses. Altogether, Shoffer was confident he could present the Boarder ladies without being ashamed of their acquaintance.

It was a shame Shoffer did not feel the same enthusiasm for Mr. North's clothing. Poor Mr. Nestor had done his best considering he was unable to take measurements or have a fitting and perform adjustments. No. He was forced to take Mr. North's word for the fit of the clothing. Consequently, Mr. North was preparing to parade before the highest levels of society in unfashionably loose clothing. Worse, he had chosen the style of older, more dignified persons – pantaloons, silk stockings, silver buckled shoes, and a frock coat of deep blue velvet. He appeared more like someone's undernourished child dressed up for an adult party than the intelligent gentleman Shoffer knew him to be.

North's reaction to Shoffer's pained expression and critique was to bow and laugh. Silly man.

Dinner went well, Mr. North having been placed at the undistinguished end of the table and having been threatened by his cousins with terrible punishments if one toe was put out of place, spent the meal in near silence.

After, as they awaited the beginning of the ball, Mr. North spent a few moments with the new chaperone. Lady Edith Englethorpes’s only besetting sin was a tendency to regard people as devices whose only purpose was to carry around adornments and her conversation was therefore filled with commentary about feathers and flounces, diamonds and rubies. She was good natured, kind, and uniformly cheerful, which gave Mr. North hope for the season.

The Boarder family passed early down the receiving line – for the sake of practice – and went into the ballroom. They found a good corner with several chairs and a long couch where Beth, Mildred, and Maude arranged themselves to their best advantage with Lady Edith and Felicity seated nearby, and prepared to be admired. Mr. North and Shoffer prowled the outer edges of the ballroom as it slowly filled with guests.

“When does the dancing start?” asked Mr. North, as they circled the room for the fifth time. “If it is not soon, I am convinced I shall be exhausted from the promenade and never have the strength to waltz.”

“In half an hour or so. Ah,” Shoffer turned and headed toward the stairs leading down from the main hall. “I know those names just announced. They are members of my club and are not complete cabbage heads. Let us take them over and introduce them to the ladies. I do not want to be in the position of leading Beth out for the first dance. It does not do for a young lady to be dancing always with her brother and last year, I suspect I was her only partner.”

Shaking his head Mr. North trailed along behind the duke to collect two young aspiring Corinthians. The taller, Nigel Wentworth, second son of the Earl of Brigham, had skinny legs not shown to advantage in his tight trousers and the other, the Honorable Mr. Micheal Offen, square faced and pimply, wheezed when he made his bow to the ladies. Shoffer presented them to his sister as acquaintances of his with a smile upon his face. A smile that withered away as the minutes passed. Mildred and Maude fluttered and flattered and received invitations to dance, but Beth was struck dumb and sat unmoving on her couch. Mr. North waited for Lady Edith to move or speak on her charge’s behalf, but no, that Lady's attention was caught by the complicated decorations on a nearby turban and she did not notice Beth's withdrawal.