The Darcy Code (3 page)

She looked around her and whispered to Freddie that she hardly knew a soul there. Inwardly she said, Where is Mr. Standish?

He was announced, he came in, and unable to restrain herself, her eyes flew to him and her heart leapt in her bosom.

"Devilish handsome fellow, Standish," Freddie observed seeing where her eyes were focused. "Devil of a one with the ladies too."

Why did he not come over to her, had he not seen her? Now he was standing over by one of the tall windows, in conversation with that disagreeable Mr. Vere. Both of them looked her way for a moment, but Mr. Standish didn't smile, didn't even acknowledge her presence, and, instead of making his way through the little throng towards her, was walking away from her to a distant corner of the room, where a number of gentlemen were gathered around a young lady in grey silk, closer in age to Anna than most of the people in the room, but someone she did not know at all.

Her eyes narrowed. Mr. Standish was bowing with great punctiliousness and exerting all his charm on that young woman. She was modishly dressed, and was, Anna had to admit, rather beautiful if you liked that type of dark long-necked looks. She herself didn't. Now another woman had joined the group, an older woman, and Anna certainly recognized her, it was Lady Castlereagh.

"And that's the Princess Lieven next to Lady C," Freddie said in her ear. "All the coven there."

"Coven? What do you mean?"

"Oh, it is my name for them, all these women who are so strong and influential in political matters, they are witches, they bewitch men, including their husbands. They aren't content to just make discreet suggestions and listen to their husbands, no, they must thrust themselves in and feel that they must play some important role. Princess Lieven is the worst of them, and a foreigner, to boot."

"She is one of the patronesses of Almacks, she gave me my vouchers," said Anna.

"Oh, I dare say, she has a finger in every pie."

"And who is the younger woman, the one in the pale grey silk?"

"So she's in
London
, is she? That's Lady Flavia Gibson. Now, I wonder why.. then her father must be here too, which means that he is back from
Paris
." Freddie lapsed into a rather thoughtful silence, which annoyed Anna, who wanted to hear more about Lady Flavia.

"What an odd name, who is she?"

"I told you, Lord Gibson's daughter. He has been in
Paris
for several months, attached to our embassy there. Lady Gibson died when Lady Flavia was a child; she was an Italian countess, you know, that is why her daughter has that name, and so she has acted as his hostess practically since she came out of the school room."

"Whatever she's saying, all the gentlemen seem to be hanging on her every word."

"Well, the situation in
France–
" Freddie began, and then he stopped himself, with a wry smile. "Of course, you don't wish to talk of such things."

Now Mr. Vere had gone over to the group, bowing over Lady Flavia's hand, smiling and saying something that appeared to amuse her. Her calm beauty grew in animation as she spoke, another woman and some more of the gentlemen joined the group. Anna watched them, disliking them for being so at ease with one another for being - yes - so grown up. It wasn't merely a question of her age, however; no, she instinctively knew it was as though these people inhabited a different world from hers.

Mrs. Rufforth was among the company, and her sharp eyes had noticed Anna looking over to the cluster of people in the corner of the room. "You are admiring Lady Flavia, I daresay, such a beautiful creature, and such poise."

Anna flushed, "I was thinking what an elegant gown that young lady is wearing."

Mrs. Rufforth looked amused. "Yes, Lady Flavia is always elegant, and of course her gown was made in
Paris
."

Anna longed to ask how old Lady Flavia was, but didn't have to as her aunt went on, "Dear girl, she must be quite two- or three- and twenty now, time for her to be looking around for a husband. They say that her father may be going to marry again, that would put her nose out of joint."

Good, Anna thought; she looked as though she could do with a set-back, how smug she was.

"She will find herself a husband within the political world, she was born to be a political hostess."

"The gentlemen seem to be hanging on her every word," Anna said. She knew she sounded peeved, she must watch her tongue.

"They are bound to, for she is new back from
Paris
and everyone is agog for news of what is happening there," Mrs. Rufforth said.

No they aren't, Anna thought to herself. I'm not agog to know what is happening in
Paris
, all I care about
Paris
is that dear Harriet is there, and I hope she is having a wonderful time and is safe. A thought occurred to her, and with a curtsey she excused herself to Mrs. Rufforth, hating her for that knowing smile, and made her way across the room. If Mr. Standish would not come to her she would go to him, and she had just thought of a reason to join his group.

For a moment she hovered outside the circle, feeling excluded, an outsider. But her chin went up, she was not going to be daunted by the phalanx of men in well-fitting broadcloth who surrounded Lady Flavia.

A smile, a touch on an arm, a polite request, a gap appeared in the phalanx, and there she was beside Mr. Standish. He made a slight bow and smiled at her, but there was none of the warmth and none of the eagerness that she was used to. Why was he so serious, so severe? Had she offended him in some way?

But here she was, and she needed to explain her arrival in this group since the men were eyeing her with what might be admiration or could be surprise. She addressed Lady Flavia, directly, "Forgive my intrusion, we do not know one another, I am Anna Gosforth. My aunt just told me that you are recently back from
Paris
and I have a cousin who is there at present, Miss Harriet Fenton. I wonder if you chanced to have news of her. She promised to write, but she is not a regular correspondent, and I have heard nothing from her recently."

"It is difficult with the posts at the moment. The authorities in
France
open and read all correspondence for
England
. I hope your cousin – what did you say her name was?"

"Miss Harriet Fenton."

"No, I'm afraid I've never met her, I know no one of that name. What is she doing in
Paris
? I hope she has been discreet in her letters."

Anna's honesty forced her to say, "She is there as a companion to a Mrs. Carteret."

The dread word companion dropped into the group, and a couple of the men looked amused.

"Mrs. Carteret? Oh indeed, yes I am slightly acquainted with Mrs. Carteret. Miss Fenton, yes, I do believe I have seen a young woman with her, but I can tell you no more than that." With that she gave Anna a polite, distant smile and turned back to the others. "As I was saying–“

Anna felt snubbed, and smarted at what she heard as contempt in Lady Flavia's reply. And why was Mr. Standish not coming to the rescue, why was he turning back to listen to that odious woman?

She didn't know what to do with herself. She faced a wide expanse of carpet; people were looking at her, they had noticed the interruption, the little scene, and she would have to walk across conspicuously back to the other side of the room to Freddie and Mrs. Rufforth, who were looking at her, amused.

Rescue was at hand, and from a most unexpected quarter. Mr. Vere, of all people, detached himself from Lady Flavia's court and strolled up to her. "Good evening, Miss Gosforth. We met at Mrs. Rufforth's, if you recall. Are you still enjoying your
London
season?"

To which the answer was at this moment, No, not at all. But she couldn't say that, so she pinned a smile to her lips, and said, "Yes, it was very agreeable, and she was looking forward to the ball."

"All you young ladies love to dance."

"I am sure you dance too, Mr. Vere, I have seen you do so."

"Indeed, I do, and I hope you will honour me with a dance this evening."

He moved away, but his good deed had been done, dinner was announced, people began drifting towards the doors, no one was looking at Anna any more.

Keeping well away from Lady Flavia and her little party, Anna found a seat at the centre of the table. She would like to have sat next to Mr. Standish, but he was with that horrid woman, far away at the end of the long mahogany table.

Freddie slid into a seat beside her; well, she would have someone she knew to talk to. Footmen moved softly about, the polished table reflected the light from the numerous candles set in silver candelabra along the length of the big table.
Crystal
sparkled, silver gleamed, the scent of flowers tumbling from silver cups filled the air with a sweet fragrance. Anna made herself look and not think, she must clear her mind, breathe carefully, put a good face on it to hide her hurt and troubled feelings.

Vere, seated on the other side of the table, watched her from under hooded lids. Poor Miss Gosforth, she clearly had lost her heart to Standish, which was unfortunate and a waste of her affections.

Standish, with a promising political career ahead of him, had to marry a woman not only of fortune and breeding, but someone who would further his ambitions. He would inherit a comfortable estate, but would need to marry well if he were to make his mark in government. Especially so if it were true, as Vere had heard, that he was losing money at the gaming tables. He must make some enquiries about that.

It would be good for him to marry, it might settle him. But he would need the right kind of wife, and pretty Anna Gosforth was definitely not the right kind of wife. No, she wouldn't do. But he felt sorry for her, trying to keep her countenance calm but clearly disappointed by Standish's sudden indifference. Damn the man, couldn't he behave better than that? There was that young puppy beside her, clearly more than half in love with her, but she had no eyes for him; well, he could understand that.

Anna didn't have the heart to flirt with Freddie, it wouldn't be kind. He was rather keener on her than she wanted, and she wasn't going to encourage him. She might be a flirt but she wasn't cruel. And besides, Freddie had once more grown serious after she had remarked that all the conversation was about nothing but
France
, she had heard enough about
France
to last a lifetime, she had never been at such a tedious dinner.

Freddie said, "It is inevitable at this moment that
France
will be on everyone's lips, it is a subject at the forefront of all our minds."

"Why? We are at peace with
France
, the war is over, why should people want to talk about
France
all the time?"

"I don't know so much about it but from what my father says and from what I hear in the clubs it seems that the peace won't last, and we shall shortly be at war again."

Anna said with a sigh, "Oh, that again, it is all boring stuff, Freddie, tell me something to amuse me and lift my spirits, I don't want to hear about horrid old wars."

So Freddie began instead to talk about art, and although Anna was happy to go to an exhibition and look at whatever her mama said she should, and liked pictures well enough, she found it hard to express any real interest, and so Freddie's conversation was a mere monologue. He could talk to the woman on his left, she seemed interested in what he had to say, and she had better make the effort and talk to the gentleman on her other side.

Oh, Lord, the man on her left was a clergyman, How had she not noticed that before? It was because he was so well-dressed, and with his long nose and humorous eye, she couldn't imagine him preaching a sermon. Nonetheless, he was indeed a clergyman and he was inevitably going to be even duller than Freddie.

It turned out he was no such thing; she had no idea that a witty clergyman could exist, but here was one beside her. He seemed to know everyone, and, even in her present unhappy mood, she couldn't help laughing at his clever observations.

"That man in the rather old-fashioned wig, that looks as though it were not a wig but as if some poor creature had perished upon his head, that is Sir Wrekyn Silk. He is important, because he has the ear of the Prince. The Prince of Wales I mean. Beside him is Lady Harbinger. She is a rich widow, and seems to consider it is safer to wear the contents of her jewel box about her person than leave it in her house where it may be burgled."

Anna had to suppress a giggle at this, because it did indeed look as though Lady Harbinger were decked out in every jewel a woman might possess.

"She must jingle when she dances."

"Let us hope we will be spared that spectacle," said the clergyman. "Now, that man next to her is Mr. Standish. A very fine young fellow, considered one of the handsomest men in
England
. He has broken a score of hearts, and I daresay will break a score more."

Anna stiffened. He glanced down at her, but went smoothly on. "He will marry soon, and marry well, for his family always do. And I suppose he will be a good husband within the meaning of the act."