Sussex Summer (12 page)

"Why is all the furniture arranged around the walls, Lord Staplefield?"

"Odds hoops and panniers," he replied, "there's no room for ladies to walk if one places furniture in the centre of the room."

"Some of the skirts were over six feet wide," Fanny elaborated. "It is only since hoops went out of fashion that one began placing furniture in the middle of the room."

Marianne admitted the sense of this, and Lord Staplefield led his guests back into the entrance hall. From there they climbed up the beautiful curving stairway of wrought iron to the music room. Like the other rooms, the ceiling and walls, here painted in a delicate blue, were decorated with stucco ornament, the designs reflected in a specially woven carpet beneath. The room contained a harpsichord, harp and pianoforte in addition to several chairs and settees. Jane was surprised to see the pianoforte, which was a new addition, and went to look at it closely. It was a beautiful square instrument of mahogany inlaid with bands of lighter wood. Lord Staplefield noticed Jane inspecting the instrument and came to join her.

"Are you not cheating, Lord Staplefield?" Jane asked with a smile.

Lord Staplefield smiled in return. "No, Miss Hampton. I must inform you that this is a 1773 pianoforte by Shudi and Broadwood."

Lady Juliette, seeing Lord Staplefield talking to Jane, joined them at the pianoforte. The earl begged Lady Juliette to play a selection, to which request she acceded quite willingly.
I
might have known,
Jane thought as she and the others listened,
Lady Juliette is a talented musician on top of all her other accomplishments.
When Lady Juliette finished the Haydn sonata, they all complimented her playing effusively, and when the earl asked if anyone else cared to play, no one was willing to follow Lady Juliette's expert performance.

The last room on their tour was an unusual circular drawing room decorated in yellow and white. The ceiling curved as well, giving the room a feeling of spaciousness. The furniture Jane thought was exceptionally beautiful, for it was all pale yellow painted with delicate flowers. The earl explained that the furniture had been designed by Kauffman, the same artist who had done the round painting on the ceiling of the ground-floor drawing room. The earl bade them all rest a moment while he ordered tea to be served before they journeyed home.

"Lord Staplefield, are you going to continue the custom of the August masquerade?" Christopher Archer dared to ask the question many of them were wishing to ask as they waited for their tea.

"Faith, yes! Although m’uncle did not specifically request that I do so, by the mass, I believe the neighbourhood would miss it sorely if I did not."

The others agreed wholeheartedly, and Lady Juliette, unfamiliar with the balls, asked about the masquerades.

"M'great-uncle began the tradition to show gentlefolk of modern times how a ball should be conducted. Odds feathers and furbelows, they don't have entertainments like Mrs. Cornely's of Soho Square anymore." Lord Staplefield shook his head sadly.

"How did they differ from the ones held today?" Lady Juliette asked, forgetting the earl was not old enough to have attended any of Mrs. Cornely’s masquerades.

Lord Staplefield thought a moment.

"It was in the imagination. Aye. Today it's all shepherds and shepherdesses. Why, m'uncle once saw Lord Atworth attend a masquerade as Adam—clad only in flesh-coloured tights and a small apron with an embroidered fig leaf."

Marianne Archer and the Hampton sisters blushed at the picture the description conjured up, but Lady Juliette looked intrigued.

"The masquerades are of all things wonderful, Lady Juliette," Christopher added enthusiastically. "You will enjoy it excessively.''

"I say, Lord Staplefield," suggested Jamie, forgetting for once to be bored and superior, "why don't you offer a prize to the most imaginative or daring costume?"

"What a grand idea!" Christopher seconded.

Lord Staplefield, looking at Jamie as though surprised he had any ideas, agreed it was worth considering, although such things were usually not done in the fashionable world.

"Captain Tremaine," Lady Juliette cried, "why did you not tell me of the masquerade? I brought no costume."

"I am sorry, Lady Juliette, I did not think of it," Edward apologised.

"There is a seamstress in the village who is quite skilled with her needle," Fanny said. "You may order a costume there."

"A village dressmaker would not have the materials I require," Lady Juliette objected. "I would need to go to London, or at least Brighton."

"Odds life," the earl interposed. "Allow me to come to your rescue, Fair Lady. I have a town house in Brighton. We'll get up an excursion."

The earl's idea was quickly endorsed by the Blackwoods and Tremaines, but the Archers and Hamptons hesitated.

"My sister and I have no maid to accompany us," Jane said, "and it would not be proper for us to travel without one."

"That is no problem," Lady Juliette offered generously. "My aunt will act as your chaperone as well as mine."

Fanny looked at Jane pleadingly, and Jane capitulated.

"Very well, if Father agrees," she qualified.

"I do not think Mama will allow me to go, and I
have
a maid," Marianne said wistfully.

"I shall go, anyway," Christopher said unfeelingly, earning a mutinous look from his sister.

The excursion was set for a week hence, and the day's outing at Bramleigh ended with all except Marianne in high spirits.

* * * *

The day after the picnic, Lady Juliette wandered absently about the entrance hall of Haverton Park, waiting for her aunt and Lady Tremaine, who were to join her on a drive to Staplefield. How dull Sussex was turning out to be, Lady Juliette thought with a sense of oppression. No routs, assemblies, opera or theatre, only country balls and dinners. And as for the company! Lady Tremaine was as prosy as Edward had turned out to be, and the Hampton sisters were hopelessly provincial. She was quite bored out of all patience.

Well, she thought, yawning delicately, as soon as she could bring Edward to the point she would return to London. Or perhaps she should think of transferring her affections to Lord Staplefield—he appeared to be interested in her.

Juliette paused in front of a gilt-framed mirror to adjust the tilt of her gypsy hat and tie the ribbons in a more flattering bow. As she adjusted the hat, she noticed some letters lying on a salver on the table beneath the mirror. The top letter caught her eye, and glancing about quickly to see if anyone was looking, she picked it up. From Colonel Wentworth, she noticed. Was that not the officer Edward had been asking to look into the matter of Sir John? Impulsively she stuck the letter into the bosom of her gown and went back up to her bedchamber, passing Dawkins at the base of the stairs.

Safe in her room, Juliette dismissed Perkins and took the letter from her bosom, fingering it thoughtfully. She wondered what it said. Edward had gone to London to see Colonel Wentworth before. What if he were being asked to do so again? If he were to absent himself from Sussex for a long period of time, she would be forced to leave herself. It would appear odd for her to remain if the person who had invited her was no longer in residence. Or if she did remain, who knew how long it would be before Edward returned? She could not bear to remain in Sussex too long.

Quashing a momentary feeling of guilt, Juliette opened the letter and scanned it quickly. Colonel Wentworth
did
want Edward to come to London, to see the brother of Sir John Moore. She folded the letter up slowly. No, it would not do if Edward were to read this letter. Much as she disliked Sussex, she could not afford to leave now, not without being engaged, and not with the interest Lord Staplefield was beginning to show in her. Juliette carefully slipped the letter under the lining of her jewel box and returned downstairs to wait for her aunt and Lady Tremaine.

Chapter Eight

That Wednesday evening, the Archers held one of the country dinners Lady Juliette so despised for their lack of interesting guests. And indeed the company at the dinner was the same as that which had been at the Tremaines' ball. Except when one family or another had guests, the company was always the same in country society, but it did not lessen their enjoyment of the entertainments.

Jane had been looking forward to the dinner, hoping she would again have the attention of Lady Juliette’s charming brother. Therefore, she was rather disappointed to be escorted into dinner by Christopher Archer and to be seated between him and her father. She looked wistfully down the table where Lord Blackwood and Captain Tremaine were seated, and then scolded herself for being uncharitable. Christopher might be an aspiring dandy such as Jamie, with his high shirt points and outrageously tight and brightly coloured coats and pantaloons, but he was a polite and engaging young man and she should not neglect her neighbour. As the vegetable soup was taken away and the dishes of the second remove placed on the table, Jane turned to Christopher with a compliment on his coat, and the young gentleman’s face pinked with pleasure.

"Thank you, Miss Hampton. Must say, you're in excellent looks yourself this evening. Very becoming gown," he said, viewing Jane with appreciation. It was Jane’s turn to blush with pleasure at the obviously sincere compliment, and she was glad she had chosen to wear the new pink and white gown with puffed sleeves that she had ordered from the village dressmaker after Lady Juliette had arrived in Sussex with her fashionable wardrobe.

Christopher helped himself to some of the fried chicken breasts in the dish before him and offered them to Jane. As she took one and passed the dish to her father, it occurred to Jane to wonder if there would be a repeat of the conversation on the Peninsular War. She hoped for Captain Tremaine's sake there would not be. Fortunately the subject did not come up, and the dinner passed pleasantly.

The arrival of coffee indicated the end of the meal, and time for the women to leave the men to their port and cigars. Lady Archer signalled the ladies to follow her into the drawing room where they would visit until the gentlemen rejoined them.

Jane seated herself on a Sheraton-style settee, where she was joined by the vicar's wife, Mrs. Fairchild, and Mrs. Shirley the squire's lady. Fanny and Marianne took side chairs next to each other, and Lady Martin settled into the most comfortable-looking armchair. Jane noticed that Lady Juliette sat a little apart from the rest of the company, making no attempt to join in conversation with any of the woman. Not for the first time, it occurred to Jane that Lady Juliette rarely exhibited her charm of manner when there were no gentlemen present. At the moment she was making no effort whatsoever to disguise her boredom with the company as she looked restlessly about the room. Lady Archer must have noticed Lady Juliette's
ennui,
for she suggested to her daughter that she play a selection on the spinet to entertain the guests.

Marianne obediently left Fanny to go to the instrument, a pretty spinet of satinwood veneer, and played a light country air, accompanying herself in a clear if weak voice. Fanny joined her at the piano and added her soft soprano to Marianne's, and Jane got up to add her deeper contralto. Lady Juliette did not join the group about the spinet, however, and after a few songs Lady Archer tried another tack with her difficult guest.

"Lady Juliette, would you do us the favour of playing a selection? My son Christopher tells me you are a talented performer."

"Of course, I should be pleased to, Lady Archer," Lady Juliette replied, thus appealed to directly for her participation in the entertainment. She took Marianne's place at the spinet, spreading her silken skirts gracefully about the stool.

“My niece is quite talented,” Lady Martin proclaimed in loud tones as Lady Juliette riffled through the music Marianne offered her. "You will be quite edified by her performance, although, of course, she requires a proper pianoforte to do her playing justice," she finished, looking at the Archers' modest instrument with disdain.

Lady Juliette made her selection and launched into a difficult sonata by Mozart. Much as Jane disliked Lady Juliette, she was forced to appreciate her undeniable talent. It cast Marianne's performance quite into the shade. As Jane listened to the cascade of notes rippling through the room, she wondered if that had not been Lady Juliette's purpose, if she had intentionally chosen a piece that would demonstrate the superiority of her accomplishments to the rest of the company. Jane tried to dismiss the ungenerous thought and enjoy the music, but the suspicion remained.

While Lady Juliette was still playing, the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, and Lady Juliette's playing became even more brilliant. Lord Staplefield and Captain Tremaine stood beside the spinet, watching Lady Juliette's fingers as they flew unerringly over the keys, and at the end of the sonata the entire company applauded enthusiastically. Lady Juliette smiled graciously and inclined her head in recognition of the applause. Lord Staplefield requested she honour them with another selection, and Lady Juliette complied, choosing a short but technically difficult piece by Bach.

As Jane watched Lady Juliette, to whom the music was familiar enough that she was able to smile up at the gentlemen as she played, she mused how gullible men appeared to be. They would never see that Lady Juliette’s charm was a only a veneer, or better, a mask, put on and off at will. They were quite taken in by her pretty face and the pretty manners she could display when she chose, Jane thought resignedly.

Lady Juliette finished her second selection to more generous applause, and would not allow herself to be talked into a third. She rose from the stool with a smile, and was escorted to a chair by Lord Staplefield and Captain Tremaine.

"Come, what say we have a rubber of whist?" Baron Archer suggested before his wife could ask another guest to perform on the spinet. "Let us leave the youngsters to themselves," he added with a wink toward Fanny and Christopher.

Jane smiled at Baron Archer's obvious ploy. The baron was an inveterate card player, and evenings at his home inevitably ended in a game. She had noticed the card tables had already been set up in the smaller drawing room adjoining the one they were in, and she could see the servants moving about, lighting the candles at the corners of the card tables.