A Heartless Design (12 page)

Finally, Mrs Smallhand departed, and Elly took a breath. “She would shape the world to her own vision, wouldn’t she?”

“What?” Cordelia asked. She had barely heard Elly’s comment.

“Cordelia, you are miles away! What are you thinking of?”

She sighed. “Am I old, Elly?”

Elly looked at her. “Old? Did that harridan’s remark sting you? You’re not a debutante, dear, but you’re not on the shelf yet. Why? Regrets?” she asked shrewdly.

“A few, perhaps.” Cordelia fiddled with a spoon on the table. “I always chose to pursue the things that interested me, with little thought for what others might think. But perhaps I will pay for it soon. I have few friends, and hardly any family. You heard what Mrs Smallhand said about the Brecknell woman: tall and odd! Dismissed with two words. How could I have tricked myself into thinking society would just let me in when it suited me? I see now that an unmarried woman doesn’t have many places to fit.”

“Neither does a married woman,” Elly pointed out. “Our paths are laid out for us, no matter who we are. But marriage does confer some privileges. You would get the protection and the wealth of your husband. You’d be sheltered, even as a widow. A good husband would take care of you.”

“But I’d lose all my rights,” Cordelia objected. That was the core of her fear of marriage. A husband would be able to stop her from designing ships. He could stop her from working as Lear. He would certainly stop her from hiring servants as she did now. If he so much as suspected the servants’ history, they’d all be punished severely, and Cordelia would be to blame. In fact, any man who knew even one of her secrets would be unlikely to consider her suitable for a wife at all. “You say a good husband would take care of me. But what if I chose badly? I couldn’t function as a man’s property.”

“It’s marriage, not slavery.”

“That decision is the husband’s to make,” Cordelia said sourly.

“You’re exaggerating. You have been cooped up too long. You are still attending the dinner at the Priestley house tonight?” she asked. “You promised, and it’s been planned for weeks.”

“Yes, I agreed to go for your sake.”

“Good. Mr Ramsay will escort us, but I know he’ll talk business with Lord Priestley all evening.”

“We shall entertain ourselves,” Cordelia assured her friend, little suspecting that the dinner would prove far more entertaining than she expected.

Even after sunset, the warmth
of the day lingered. Cordelia didn’t know how she’d handle a hot and stuffy dining room, but a promise was a promise. Bond selected a new gown for the evening, one cut along the same lines as Cordelia’s morning gown. This one, however, was of an even finer weave, the white zephyr almost as smooth as silk, with a layer of shadow lace floating above it. Cordelia glanced at herself in the mirror. “It looks a bit low cut.”

“It fits perfectly, madam.”

“That is my concern,” Cordelia muttered.

Bond laughed as she tied a wide green ribbon at the high waist of the dress. The band of satin ran under Cordelia’s chest, and the maid fluffed the bow at her back.

“The jade necklace and earrings, madam,” Bond said next, presenting the items. “They will complement the green ribbon…and your eyes.”

Cordelia put the jewelry on, and felt only slightly more comfortable with her appearance. The neckline was fashionably low, and Cordelia didn’t remember her bust being quite so…

“Will people look at the necklace?” she asked nervously. “That is, I hope that’s what they will look at.”

The maid chuckled. “Not all the diamonds in the world will distract some men! But the necklace is a lovely thing, ma’am,” Bond noted professionally. “Never seen a jewel like it.”

Cordelia touched the heavy, strangely twisted jade pendant that hung on the gold chain. “My father bought it on one of his voyages to the South Seas when he was a young man. It’s a sort of native good luck charm, so he was told. He gave it to my mother on their first Christmas.” Her vision grew misty for just a second. She had been barely more than a baby when her mother had taken sick, but she knew her parents had been happy together.

“Oh, I love it when a stone has a story to it,” the maid said. With a critical eye, she checked her mistress over, then opened a small glass pot and applied the tiniest bit of color to Cordelia’s cheeks. Young ladies of the upper classes never wore cosmetics, but Cordelia was just old enough that their judicious, subtle use would not be seen amiss. “Nothing too dramatic, but you have been a touch pale these past few days, ma’am. That’s better. And look at your eyes now! You’ll be the envy of all the ladies.”

“Bring my shawl and fan,” Cordelia stood up, blinking to clear her eyes. “If I shall be the envy of all the ladies, I’d best get it over with.”

Elly and her husband had arranged to take Cordelia with them to the dinner party, since Leona would not be accompanying them that evening. Elly cooed over Cordelia’s ensemble, reassuring her, and even Mr Ramsay seemed to be in a reasonably good mood. Their new landau was exquisitely appointed, and Cordelia allowed herself to hope that the dinner might be as comfortable as sitting on the plush cushions.

Lady Priestley’s home was fronted by tall Grecian columns in white painted wood. Behind the columns, the tall glass windows were all alight, even those on the upper stories, so that the whole house sparkled.

“Don’t forget to compliment the columns,” Ramsay warned. “She just had them put in at great expense. I suspect this dinner is being given solely to garner praise for the house.”

“Fortunately, they look quite impressive,” Elly added. “I always feel so wretched when I have to say something kind about some garish ornament a lady has insisted on.”

Cordelia laughed, feeling that this conversation was proof that her life was heading back onto an even keel. Leaving the carriage, they avoided the mud in the streets and stepped up to the door, which was opened instantly by a footman.

As the hostess greeted them effusively, Cordelia caught a glimpse of someone she’d rather have avoided. Her frequent admirer Mr Hayden was there; he would no doubt be seated next to her at dinner. She sighed inwardly. Everything was quite back to normal, and she had to fend off her admirers, just as she had done for years.

Elly gave her no help. “Oh, there is Miss Brecknell! Come, Mr Ramsay, we must congratulate her on her engagement!”

Before Cordelia could evade Hayden, he saw her and lost no time in adhering himself to her side. The slim, dark haired man was attractive enough, but he had no idea when to stop. He praised Cordelia, claiming ever more extravagant things about her beauty and grace. She suspected he got most of his compliments from volumes of poetry. She listened with half an ear while surveying the rest of the dinner guests.

“Miss Bering, your eyes are like jade butterflies,” he was in the midst of saying.

“How pretty, Mr Hayden. But a butterfly made of jade would have a difficult job of actually flying, wouldn’t you say?”

“How clever you are, Miss Bering,” he said, his enthusiasm in no way dimmed. “Brains as well as beauty. You must have pity on me and accept my adoration at some point.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes.  She was used to the attentions of gentlemen, many of whom made proposals. Theodore Hayden, however, had not done so, though he laid broad hints of his deepening interest. Furthermore, she had grown nervous of the way he looked at her…as if she were a meal to devour. But he never said anything outwardly offensive, or made any move so bold that she could feel justified in refusing his attentions completely.

She looked for Elly, hoping that her friend would rescue her from this conversation. But Elly was talking to another couple, clearly as ensnared as Cordelia. Before she could decide what to do, there was a commotion at the entrance. A male voice echoed through the rooms, and something about the tone made a shiver run up her spine. It couldn’t be…

A moment later, the all-too-familiar shape of Sebastien Thorne appeared, just visible through the double doors. The hostess betrayed herself with an utterly panicked look before she bustled over to find out why the earl had appeared in her hallway before a dinner party. Elly, quick to notice any new person, also saw Thorne’s entrance. She looked at Cordelia from across the room and raised her eyebrow significantly. Cordelia almost fainted. It would never do for anyone, even her close friend, to think that Thorne was pursuing her.

Snippets of the conversation that floated over to her made Cordelia more than suspicious. Thorne appeared to be convinced he had been invited to dinner, and the poor hostess could hardly tell an earl he was wrong. She suddenly remembered Aunt Leona’s casual mention of the dinner party when he was in the room. Thorne must have crashed the party for the sole purpose of getting near her.

Within a few moments, an accommodation was apparently reached, for Thorne stepped into the room where the guests gathered and began to circulate among them, his manner easy and not in the least lordly. He seemed to know several people in passing, and the comments he made to ladies certainly had an effect. Every woman in the room, married or not, had an eye on him.

Cordelia was no exception. She couldn’t stop herself from surveying his progress. He was dressed in the height of style, with a perfectly cut jacket in a rich chocolate shade, which only made the white lawn of his shirt look whiter. Buff-colored pantaloons hugged his legs like a second skin. Combined with his height and natural grace of movement, he was undeniably handsome.

When he caught her gaze, she looked away quickly. A second later, she heard him laugh, ostensibly at something his companion said. She flushed in embarrassment. Thorne was far too perceptive.

Her heart thumped, despite the fact that she hardly knew him.
Don’t be foolish
, she told herself, trying not to stare at the figure, which was difficult considering how different he was from everyone else there. Taller, darker, much more vital than the dandy who hovered nearby.

Hayden sniffed loudly. “Such a peacock. These high-born lords, who have never known what true hardship is.” As a member of the gentry, Hayden couldn’t have been terribly accustomed to the rough life himself.

Cordelia bristled at the characterization. “If I recall correctly, Lord Thorne served in the army for several years. Surely that entails some hardship.”

“You are too kind, Miss Bering, too kind. He deserves no sympathy from you, and yet you give it freely. Your heart is too beautiful for this world.”

“But I have heard that Miss Bering is quite heartless,” a voice broke in. In the few moments during which Cordelia hadn’t been riveted by his appearance, he’d managed to move right next to her.

Hayden looked affronted. “What a horrible thing to say to a lady!”

“There is no need for offense,” she interjected. “I myself told Lord Thorne that when we first met.”

“So you know him!” Hayden said, surprised.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Cordelia said dryly. She turned to Sebastien. “Good evening, my lord. I didn’t know you would be in attendance tonight. What brings you here?” Driven by some odd impulse, she offered him her hand.

He took it and bowed elegantly. “Why do you think I came, Miss Bering?” He paused for one moment before releasing her hand. “Even a lord has to eat.”

Unaccountably, she smiled at his evasion. Talking with Sebastien kept her on her toes, at least.

Hayden was not so amused. “So you eat at other people’s tables?”

“Did you bring a picnic lunch this evening…I’m sorry, you have the advantage of me, sir.”

The sarcasm in the words was clear. Thorne didn’t think much of Hayden.

But Cordelia thought she should level the field. “Lord Thorne, this is Mr Theodore Hayden. Mr Hayden, as you already know, this is Lord Sebastien Thorne, the Earl of Thornbury.”

The two men exchanged a look that made Cordelia glance heavenward.

Then Thorne said, “Well?”

“Well, what?” asked Hayden, irritation in his voice.

“Did you bring a picnic lunch…sir?”

Before Hayden could do something rash like call Thorne out, Cordelia said, “I think we will all enjoy Lady Priestley’s fine supper…if we make it to the dining room without doing battle.”

Thorne accepted her warning with a suspicious alacrity. “Certainly, Miss Bering.  As it happens, though, I did have another purpose in coming here tonight.”

“And that is?”

“Merely to ascertain that you and your household have suffered no more acts of burglary or other things of that nature.”

“I thank you for your concern. There has been no repeat of the event.”

“Once ought to have been quite enough,” Hayden agreed. “Imagine the distress Miss Bering felt on finding her father’s work missing!”

“Did I mention that to you?” Cordelia asked, suddenly looking at Hayden. She didn’t recall doing so in the short time at the dinner party.

Hayden looked flustered. “I think so…yes. Or how could I have known?”

“How indeed,” Thorne said, looking harder at the man.

At that moment, Lady Priestley called out that dinner was served. Thorne offered his arm, and Cordelia accepted it before she fully comprehended what it meant.

Hayden, however, noticed immediately, and objected. “I had expected the honor of escorting Miss Bering into dinner.”

“Oh, I told Lady Priestley that I didn’t mind in the least.” Thorne’s deliberately casual response left Hayden floundering for a suitable reply.  

Cordelia, realizing she would sit next to Thorne instead of Hayden, felt a moment of giddy relief. “No doubt there is another lady in need of your charming company,” she told Hayden.

Sebastien smiled tightly and walked Cordelia through to the dining room. “So quick to rid yourself of an ardent suitor.”

“It will take far more than that to get rid of Hayden. He is persistent.”

“When did you meet him, if I may ask?”

“Last November. He was presented to me at some function. I think it was at the Athenaeum. Why?”

“Curiosity.”

“Well, I assumed as much, or you would not have asked,” Cordelia replied.