The Chocolate Debutante (9 page)

Harriet sat next to Susan and lectured her, ending up with, “And you simply walked in there by yourself and ate the whole thing?”

“No,” said Susan sleepily. “That nice Sir Thomas Jeynes took me in.”

“Sir Thomas is a
bad man
and you are to have nothing more to do with him. It was a wicked and silly thing to do, and unless Dangerfield can arrange things and if Sir Thomas talks about it, there will be a scandal and you will be damned as greedy. My stars! Debutantes are supposed to eat hardly anything.”

Harriet then looked up in surprise, for Lord Moulton was once more asking her to dance, followed by several men who were obviously hoping for a dance with Susan.

Susan watched her aunt go and then smiled radiantly on her courtiers. “I cannot dance,” she said. “I must repair a rip to my gown.”

She made her way out of the ballroom and ran lightly down the stairs. The hall was temporarily empty of servants. She pushed open a door and found herself in a rather dark anteroom, the sort of room used for dealing with tradespeople. But it boasted a black horsehair-filled sofa. With a sigh she stretched out on it, put her thumb in her mouth, and fell fast asleep.

And that was where Lord Dangerfield found her after being appealed to by a frantic Harriet.

He shook her awake. “Come along, Miss Colville,” he said. “Time to rejoin the dance. Are you trying to frighten your aunt to death?”

“I was so tired,” moaned Susan.

“I have no doubt you were, having gorged yourself like a serpent.”

“Why do you look at me so angrily?” asked Susan, getting to her feet. “I have never known a gentleman to be angry with me before.”

“Perhaps because I am immune to your beauty, miss.”

“But not to my aunt’s?”

“You think your aunt beautiful?”

“She is not beautiful, but she has become extremely attractive,” said Susan, stifling a yawn. “I thought it was the new clothes, but her eyes are very fine, do you not think?”

“Yes, miss, very fine.”

“Are you going to marry her?”

“I am weary of the Season before it has begun. I do not think I shall marry anyone.”

“Oh, what a pity you do not want Aunt Harriet. But there are plenty of men who do,” said Susan.

That artless remark irritated the earl. He thought Harriet was indifferent to him. He had not considered that she might be attracted to someone else, and began to feel angry with her.

The sharp eyes of Sir Thomas Jeynes watched them enter the ballroom together. So that was Dangerfield’s interest! His brain began to work busily. He still wanted revenge on Dangerfield because of that old humiliation, and perhaps if he thought hard, he could get at him through Miss Susan Colville.

Harriet dressed very carefully in preparation for calls the following day. Surely Dangerfield would come in person. It was the custom for gentlemen to make calls on the ladies they had danced with the night before. On the other hand, some of them contented themselves with sending a servant with a card.

She tried to put the earl out of her mind. He could not be interested in her. Susan looked the image of his Griselda. Therefore it followed that he meant to get her to favor him so that she would accept his suit when he asked her permission to pay his addresses to her niece.

She went to Susan’s bedchamber, where the maid was brushing the girl’s hair. “Susan,” she said, sitting down next to her, “are you interested in Lord Dangerfield?”

“I am not really interested in anyone, Aunt. I thought Mr. Courtney was pleasant but such a rabbit. I asked him to get me some of that centerpiece and he would not.”

“That was not the act of a rabbit, that was the act of a gentleman.” Harriet sounded every bit as exasperated as she felt. “Thanks to Lord Dangerfield’s quick wits, remnants of the centerpiece were found in the fireplace and the act was blamed on some young bucks who had had too much to drink and fortunately could not remember exactly what they had been doing. Susan, if you get a reputation for being greedy, then no beauty of yours will make you appear attractive. No more chocolates or sweetmeats. The servants have been told not to buy you any. I want your pin money… now!”

“But how can I enjoy myself without sugar plums?”

“Very easily. Now, hurry and make ready. Our callers should be arriving soon.”

Susan surrendered her pin money. “Dangerfield is already weary of London and has decided not to get married after all,” she said. A shadow passed over Harriet’s face. Susan felt slightly guilty at having hurt her, for she was sure her aunt was attracted by the earl, but Aunt Harriet deserved to be punished a little for having cut off the supply of sweets, and after all, she had only repeated what the earl himself had said.

So when Lord Dangerfield arrived, it was to find Harriet’s drawing room full of gentlemen callers and to be welcomed by a very subdued Harriet, who did not pay him any particular attention. He felt offended. He deserved better than this. Had he not rescued Susan from disgrace? And so he flirted amiably with Susan and stayed only for ten minutes before taking his leave.

Every bit of Harriet’s body was aware of his departure. She continued to smile and talk and pour tea. And all the while she thought how she had so recently looked forward to returning to her old life when the Season was over.

After the callers had left, she felt all she wanted to do was lie down with a cologne-soaked towel on her forehead and forget about the earl, the Season, and Susan, but her butler entered and said, “Sir Thomas Jeynes to see you, madam.”

“We are not at home.”

The butler bowed and left. He returned after a few minutes and said apologetically, “Sir Thomas knows you are at home, madam, and humbly begs a chance to offer his apologies.”

Harriet was suddenly too weary to argue. “Send him up.”

Sir Thomas entered the drawing room bearing a large bouquet of flowers. He had wondered whether to bring a large box of chocolates for Susan but had decided that after the girl’s eating of the centerpiece such a present would not be welcome. He bowed low.

“Miss Tremayne, I am come to offer you my humble apologies for having encouraged your niece in the folly of eating the centerpiece. But she begged so prettily. Do not look daggers at me, ma’am. You surely know how persuasive your niece’s beauty can be. Is there anything I can do to make amends?”

“Just do not encourage her in any such prank again,” said Harriet.

She sat down. He flipped up the long tails of his coat and sat down opposite her, placing the large bouquet on a side table. “But in faith, madam, you must realize that I expected her to eat only one of the little figures. It was when she started on the battlements that I took fright.”

He looked at her in such comical dismay that Harriet began to laugh. “She is a truly dreadful child. Yes, I accept your apology, Sir Thomas.”

“That is good. I have another request. Do you go to the opera this evening?”

“Yes, sir, both Miss Colville and myself plan to attend.”

“Would you do me the very great honor of allowing me to escort you?”

“You are too kind. But young Mr. Courtney has offered to escort us.”

“I see the faint light of old scandal behind your beautiful eyes. You have heard the
on-dit
of my duel with Dangerfield? I thought so. It is old history, Miss Tremayne. You must feel the duties of bringing out an unconventional miss such as Miss Colville onerous. I am a man of the world and could lend you my experience in order to steer the young lady away from unsuitable men.”

“Sir, if you are interested in courting Miss Colville yourself…”

“Heaven forbid! She is the fairest thing that London has seen this age but too immature for a man of my years.” He grinned at her. “Confess, you would dearly like some help.”

If she turned up at the opera with Sir Thomas, then perhaps that might annoy Lord Dangerfield, and she did so want to annoy him. Besides, this Sir Thomas was attractive and amusing. What was so very bad about that duel over the mistress, a mistress that she was sure Dangerfield still had in keeping?

She smiled at Sir Thomas. “I am delighted to accept your escort.”

He strolled home, feeling well satisfied with himself. The route to Susan’s greedy little heart was through Harriet. If he could ruin the girl in some way, then he would get even with Dangerfield.

He had just reached his house when he heard himself being hailed. He turned around.

Verity Palfrey was beckoning to him from a closed carriage. He walked over to her.

“And what can I do for you?” he asked.

“I need your help,” she said. “Dangerfield never calls on me. I want to know why.”

“And why should I tell you? Why should I not want to see you suffer?”

“Because,” said Verity, “you want to make Dangerfield suffer, do you not? And I can help you to do it!”

Sir Thomas looked at her curiously. “How can you do it?”

“I swear, if you can get that little simpering miss to lose her heart to you, then he will turn to me.”

“That is my part. What is yours?”

“I am invited to the Debenhams’ picnic in the Surrey fields tomorrow. I have ascertained that this Susan is invited. You go, too?”

“Yes.”

“I shall befriend the young miss.”

“Difficult. That dragon who chaperones her, her aunt, will drop a word in her ear.”

“Believe me, before that the damage will have been done. Then the field will lie open for you to find the way to her heart.”

“I already know the way to Miss Susan’s heart.”

“That being?”

“Chocolate.”

If one has never been in love before, then it is difficult to recognize the beast when it comes along. Such was the state of Harriet’s mind. When she had vaguely thought about being in love, she had imagined it a gentle thing, a growing respect and mutual admiration between two people. And so she did not recognize her feelings for Lord Dangerfield as love, this odd mixture of pain and distrust. Not being normally of a jealous nature, she did not recognize, either, in her determination that he was unsuitable for Susan, a desire to have him for herself.

She told Susan that Charles Courtney was to drive them to the picnic, and Susan gave a pink yawn and looked indifferent. Harriet had never attended a fashionable picnic and fondly imagined it would be an informal affair, sitting on the grass and eating simple food.

But Lord and Lady Debenham preferred, like most of the aristocracy, to tame the countryside into a semblance of a comfortable dining room, and so tables were set up on the grass by the river and there were just as many servants to wait upon them as there would have been in the town house, and the fare was sumptuous.

Lord Dangerfield was there, and so, Harriet noticed with a sinking sensation, was his mistress, Verity Palfrey, the lady she had seen at the Hyde Park toll. The day was unusually sultry and hot for early summer. Harriet picked at her food and tried hard not to look at Verity Palfrey. Sir Thomas Jeynes was there as well.

Harriet eyed him speculatively. He had been good company at the opera. She had danced with him at the ball after the performance. But that had not prompted Lord Dangerfield to approach her or even to speak to her. She had hoped he might have been moved to warn her against his one-time rival. He had danced with Susan—twice—and had made her laugh, but when Harriet had asked Susan what he had talked about, what he had said to make her laugh, lazy Susan only looked blank and said she could not remember. She was seated a little away from Harriet beside young Courtney, and they appeared to be getting along famously. What was up with the boy? fretted Harriet. Why couldn’t he propose and get the whole nightmare of this Season over with?

She forced herself to talk to her admirer, young Lord Moulton, who was next to her. When the meal ended, people began to rise and walk along by the riverbank.

Verity Palfrey covertly watched Susan, hoping for a chance to speak to the girl alone. And then suddenly she saw her chance. Sir Thomas had approached Harriet and asked her to walk with him; Susan had seen an unfinished chocolate pudding on another table and had promptly forgotten all about Charles and was heading in that direction with a single-minded gleam in her beautiful eyes. Verity moved quickly to her side. “Miss Colville?”

Susan gave her a mildly irritated look, saw over Verity’s shoulder a footman take the pudding away, and heaved a little sigh. She focused on Verity.

“I am Mrs. Verity Palfrey,” said Verity. “We have not met. You are Miss Colville.”

“If we have not been introduced,” said Susan vaguely, “then you should not be talking to me.”

Verity gave a silvery laugh. “Tish, at an al fresco event like this, one does not stand on ceremony. Walk me a little. I must warn you.”

Susan, who was trying to learn to be dutiful, looked around for her aunt, but Harriet was well away from her, walking along on the arm of Sir Thomas Jeynes.