What Lucinda Learned (6 page)

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Authors: Beth Bryan

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Devereux followed his friend out of the coffee house and firmly suppressed a rebellious memory of tiny gold stars twinkling in burnished curls.

CHAPTER SIX

Lucinda’s days
grew ever more occupied. The Season was now in full swing. There were afternoon calls, morning calls, balls, assemblies, rout parties, theatre parties, breakfast parties, museum visits, concerts, diversions of all imaginable sorts.

She had eaten a cold supper in the Chinese Pavilion at Vauxhall; she had blushed at Mrs. Salmon’s Waxworks, where the amorous shepherds and shepherdesses sported; she had been somewhat bored by the Elgin Marbles; she had marvelled at the Panorama’s displays of Niagara Falls and of Pompeii and she had been truly amazed at the Appollonicon where “mechanical powers” performed daily.

“But what I have not seen,” she said one afternoon as they walked in Rotten Row, “is the animals.”

“Animals?” Will had been chatting with Patience and looked up at these words.

“I have heard there are tigers and monkeys and even an elephant.”

They had walked almost as far as Stanhope Gate. Around the North Lodge a throng of beaux and ladies was milling. A tall figure detached himself and came to meet them.

“Good morning, Miss Neville, Miss Ryland. Your servant, Ryland.”

“Good morning, sir.” Belle smiled coquettishly at him. “Have you seen the elephant, Mr. Devereux?”

Mr. Devereux blinked. “Elephant? Ah, you must mean Chunee!”

“Is that his name?” Lucinda asked, laughing. “It sounds so outlandish.”

“I hear there are many curiosities of the natural world to be seen in the Exeter ’Change,” Patience said in her soft voice.

“Yes.” Devereux nodded. “In Mr. Cross’s Royal Menagerie. But Chunee is the most famous. Even Lord Byron visited him, you know.”

“I did not know that. Then we must certainly go.”

“I wonder we did not think of it before,” Belle enthusiastically agreed.

Mr. Devereux cocked an eyebrow at Will. “Well, Ryland? We may take a hint, may we not? We are at your service, ladies. We shall conduct you to Chunee whenever you wish.”

Lucinda looked at him in surprise. It seemed unlikely that visiting an elephant was Beau Devereux’s idea of a stimulating afternoon. But he seemed quite serious and she joined her voice to the others’ expression of thanks and pleasure.

But such were the demands
of the social calendar that it was nearly a week later when the outing was finally arranged. In the meantime, Sir Charles had heard of the expedition and added himself to the party. Patience had, however, thought it over and decided that she did not care to view such ferocious animals.

“For you know,” she said with a shudder, “that horses in the street have bolted when they heard the roars from the Menagerie.”

“But what will you do?” Lucinda asked as they gathered in the Granthams’ front salon.

“Will has offered to escort me to an exhibition of needlepoint pictures in Leicester Square, that is, if you do not mind, Lucinda?”

“Of course I do not mind. But,” Lucinda added, turning wondering eyes on Will, “do you mean you would rather look at pictures than at an elephant?”

Will tugged at his cravat. Devereux closed his eyes at the havoc this wreaked on its arrangement. “Don’t mind,” Will muttered. “Saw the animals at the Tower already, you know, so it ain’t the same thing.”

“That’s all right, then,” Belle said happily. “So you may be on your way to Leicester Square and we shall make for the Strand.”

Lucinda had, of course, heard of the Exeter ’Change and its number of small select shops, offering millinery, hosiery, books and any number of luxurious trifles. She knew also that it was a site much favoured for assignations, though that, naturally, was of little interest to her.

They turned into the Strand and stopped opposite the Savoy. Lucinda looked eagerly across the street to the sign of Mr. Edward Cross, Dealer in Foreign Birds and Beasts. Below the sign were a number of painted panels illustrating Mr. Cross’s wares. In the middle was an imposing representation of an elephant.

“Do let’s hurry,” Lucinda urged.

Mr. Devereux looked down at her sparkling brown eyes and laughed. “Come along then, Miss Neville. It’s upstairs here.”

Once the party was inside the Menagerie, Lucinda’s eyes widened. There were cages everywhere and the noise was overwhelming. But Richard took her elbow and guided her to one side.

“Here is the famous Chunee,” he said, gesturing, but keeping his eyes on her face.

Involuntarily, Lucinda stepped closer to him. “I had not imagined him to be so ... so gigantic.”

“Five tons, I apprehend.”

Lucinda looked somewhat nervously at the huge reinforced bars and thick ropes of the cage. “He must be enormously strong.”

“But he is said to conduct himself most quietly.” Sir Charles had joined them. Despite his comment, however, he made sure he stood protectively close to Miss Ryland.

“Lord Byron thought him so well behaved that he wished him for his butler,” Dev told them.

As if overhearing his remark, Chunee lifted up his trunk and trumpeted stentoriously. Both Belle and Lucinda clapped their hands to their ears.

“Heavens,” gasped Miss Neville when relative quiet was at last restored. “I certainly wouldn’t have a butler who did that.” She took a last look at the great grey beast, then turned to the other cages. There were furry grey monkeys whose antics made them all laugh and a cage full of parrots whose splendid plumage contrasted strangely with their raucous cries.

Mr. Devereux had also told them that Lord Byron had enjoyed watching the tigers being fed. But when Lucinda and Belle saw the great buckets of bloody meat being carried in, they both voted rather quickly to leave at once.

Downstairs, they recovered their equilibrium and were more than willing to stroll through the long enclosed gallery, lined on both sides with small stalls. The arcade was crowded and they met many acquaintances.

Mr. Devereux and Sir Charles had stopped to look at a volume of Hogarth’s engravings and Belle had called to Lucinda to see a
diamante
comb in the neighbouring stalls. As Belle debated the merits of the hair ornament, a poster caught Lucinda’s eye.

She read it with widening eyes. “Oh, Mr. Devereux, do look,” she said urgently.

He read it with a slight twitch at the corner of his mobile mouth. “No, Miss Neville,” he said with a twinkle in his grey eyes. “Chunee I can accept. But when it comes to Toby, the Sapient Pig, I cry craven.”

“But do look, sir. It says he will spell and read and tell the time.”

“And play cards.” Belle came and peered over Lucinda’s shoulder.

“No! Really? Let me see.” Sir Charles read, too. “By Jove, I’ve played cards with donkeys before, but never with a swine.”

They all laughed, but suddenly Devereux looked up and stopped. Following his gaze, Lucinda saw Lady Chloris dePoer staring wide-eyed at them.

“Oh!” Lady Chloris was deeply flushed and her bosom heaved as she gazed at them.

Devereux bowed and took her hand. “Chloris! How pleasant, I had not thought to see you here.”

It was too crowded for more than two people to walk together, so Lucinda dropped behind. Sir Charles had reattached himself to Belle, so she had naturally supposed Chloris would take Mr. Devereux’s arm. But to her surprise, she found herself beside Chloris. In front of them, Belle and Sir Charles were flirting again, and ahead of them, Mr. Devereux sauntered nonchalantly.

She stole a sideways glance at Chloris. Today her ladyship wore ice-blue muslin. It flattered her pale beauty but, Lucinda considered, it added credibility to her nickname. However, one had to admit that today Chloris had a little more colour. She was somewhat breathless, as if she had been running.

Chloris, it seemed, was interested in her, too, for suddenly their eyes met and each laughed a little self-consciously.

“You and Mr. Devereux are great friends, are you not?” Chloris asked in an artificially casual tone.

But Lucinda was not deceived. She heard the note of urgency in the other girl’s voice. Surely Lady Chloris could not be jealous of her?

“Oh, no, Lady Chloris.” She made her voice sound coolly indifferent. “I should not say so, not at all.”

“I only asked because I have seen him dance with you on a number of occasions and I believe that you share a common interest in some horses?”

“Mr. Devereux has been obliging enough to honour me with a dance,” Lucinda said, “and he has acquired some horses which were bred in my father’s stables. He has been kind enough to assure us of their safety.” Then, in a rush, she went on, “It is because he is so obliging that he is with us today, for Mr. Ryland was to accompany us, but he was called away.”

It wasn’t precisely a lie, she told herself, and anyway, she had to allay Chloris’s suspicious at all costs.

’ In this it seemed she was successful, for Chloris sighed and was silent for a moment. Then she turned to the stall they were passing.

“Look, Miss Neville. Is this not the most cunningly devised thing? It looks just like a rose, but it is made entirely of tulle.”

Lucinda responded suitably, and with such unexceptionable small talk they came to the Strand entrance.

Chloris gestured to her maid who was following. “We have left the carriage by Simpson’s there. I am afraid I must hurry off for I am to meet my mama.” She bade them farewell and Mr. Devereux conducted her to the waiting carriage.

As though absently, Lucinda shifted her position on the pavement so that she might watch him hand Chloris into the vehicle. They did not look loverlike, she considered. But then, of course, such well-bred persons would never display their private feelings in public.

With a guilty start, she thought again of the love-token. She must do something with it. But if Chloris already suspected her of developing a tendre for Mr. Devereux, she would have to be even more careful in restoring it. She sighed and looked askance at her two companions.

“La, sir!” Belle slapped Sir Charles playfully on the wrist. “How can you say such things?”

Sir Charles struck a dashing pose. “My dear Miss Ryland, you have no idea of how I am willing to dare, especially for so tempting a prize.”

“Come, Charles.” Mr. Devereux had returned and now tapped his friend on the shoulder. “That is indeed a striking attitude, but take my advice, do not waste it on the Strand. Save it for Almack’s or the next ball, where it will have the audience it deserves.”

Sir Charles laughed good-naturedly, and he and Belle got into their own carriage. Mr. Devereux handed Lucinda up and then seated himself opposite her.

The others were in merry pin, but Lucinda felt that all her pleasure in the event had evaporated. Indeed, she refused an invitation to Gunther’s and requested Mr. Devereux to drive her back to Agincourt Circle.

To Mrs. Cleeson’s enquiry as to how the afternoon had gone, she responded only that the noise had given her a headache. She immediately retired to her room till it was time for the evening’s events.

When Lucinda came downstairs
the next morning, she found Mrs. Cleeson standing in the hall with a long list in her hand.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear,” her cousin was muttering. “Did I say the rose brocade or the violet damask? Because, you know, if I said the damask, then I must change the cushions’ colour, for of course the yellow will not suit the damask.”

“Whatever is the matter, cousin Ethelreda?”

“Oh! Good morning, Lucinda. I have just sent a footman off to Chippendale’s and I must send another down to the draper’s and I cannot remember which curtains I ordered for the front salon.”

Lucinda glanced at the list, but it was so crisscrossed with additions and scratchings-out that she could make little of it. “Well, cousin,” she said reasonably, “why don’t you wait till the footman comes back and you can ask him? Then you may send to the draper’s in complete surety.”

“I suppose I had best do so. But I must also see to the wallpaper for the breakfast parlour. Now where is my list for that?”

“After breakfast,” Lucinda urged, and steered her cousin down the hall.

Breakfast, however, did not soothe Mrs. Cleeson’s anxieties. She ate distractedly, peering and muttering at her lists. At length, she put them down.

“Lucinda, I have quite made up my mind. Unless you should dislike it excessively, I shall cancel our morning engagements. We cannot begin to entertain until the house is completely in order, and the time for your ball grows closer. I believe I must go to Gedge’s myself and see about the tablecloths and the other linens and then of course there are the curtains for the bedrooms and...”

Laughing, Lucinda held up her hand. “Very well, very well, cousin Ethelreda. It is most kind in you to have undertaken such a prodigious task. Papa must be overwhelmed when he sees the transformation. By all means take the time you require.”

“You have no objection to not meeting our engagements?”

“Not at all, but I should be glad to help you in your errands.”

“Thank you, dearest; not for me, but for yourself perhaps.”

“How so, cousin?”

“I think you might take Albert and do some shopping. You could do with some more silk stockings. I would like to see a new bonnet for the azure muslin. Then you need gloves, and I have never been happy with the green boots and the sprig-muslin, so you might...”

“Enough, enough, cousin! I shall need more than one afternoon for so many commissions. If you think it fitting, I shall go back to the Exeter ’Change, for I was much taken with the wares there.”

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