Althea (21 page)

“To tell the truth, Mama has had so much spirit always that
I felt it best to temper what I had. Mama is so
very
forceful, you know.”
Althea wondered if “forceful” was not a charitable word for Mrs. Laverham. “I
know Edward really was not right in trying to make you feel warmly toward him.
Were you much distressed when you found him out?”

“I?” Althea was startled by the question. “Do you know, I
don’t believe I have given it much thought since — well, I have had other
matters to fret me since. I was angry, of course, but I cannot recall that I
was very hurt. But what of you? Cannot you think of yourself? How did you truly
feel when you learned that Pendarly was being enticed by some hussy lately come
to London?”

Georgiana opened her mouth to reply that she had thought
poor Edward much maligned, or that he was justified in seeking consolation
while she was ill. But Althea had followed this train of thought and shook her
head sternly.

“I felt — ?’ Georgiana began tentatively. “That is, I was
displeased.”

“Yes?”

“And hurt?”

“I should imagine so!”

“And angry. And out of patience with Mama for enjoying
having to tell me about the whole thing.”

“Splendid!” Althea said in triumph. “Of course you were
angry and hurt. Anyone less a saint or less fond of Mr. Pendarly would have
sent him packing immediately.” Georgiana shook her head and looked at Althea
with alarm. “I am being an interfering wretch, and I am sorry. I am entirely
out of sorts with mankind today, and have been trying to infect you with my
displeasure, which is shameless of me. Let us talk of other things.”

But Georgiana, relieved of the tension she had carried in
her own anger, was now loath to depart from the subject of Mr. Pendarly’s
infidelities.

“I always thought it was wrong of me to complain of
anything, but I never knew how much better it can make one feel. You are right.
I was ill treated. And you, too, of course.” Intoxication with her new freedom
had put a becoming glow in Georgiana’s cheeks, and her eyes had darkened
indignantly. “You cannot know how good it is to speak this way. I hate to think
how mealymouthed I have been previously.”

Althea stared at her companion in some alarm. “I had no idea
of despoiling your calm this way — only raising your opinion of yourself
somewhat. I am so glad if that worked, but what an about-face you present me
with!”

Georgiana calmed down a trifle under Althea’s concerned
eyes, but a militant light still shone from her own when she spoke. “I am
sorry. It is just that it is such a relief not to pretend to myself that
everything is well and suits me when it is not and does not.” She sighed. “Mama
always looks as if I have become a harridan if I dislike something. You can see
that I count you as my friend for this. And as my fellow victim. Think how
Edward would enjoy that thought. I think he would rather like to have a victim
somewhere.”

Althea smiled and thought of the other men who had been so much
in her thoughts lately: her father, her brother, Francis, and finally, Calendar
— always Calendar. “Why is it that men imagine they can play their nasty tricks
and still be assured of our affections? Lord, I wish l had some game equal to
their own that I could play in return that would vex them as mightily as they
have vexed us. But I do not suppose there is any way we can do it. We can sit
and net purses and paint watercolors, all the while praying that someone will
keep us from the shelf. I feel like a pair of gloves to hear Mary talk of my
success. I shudder to think what must have been my fate had Brummell not
declared that I was in good taste.”

“Your sister cannot come close to Mama. I wish I could
picture for you her face the day Pendarly offered for me. As though the Kingdom
of Heaven had been offered her. Of course, I suppose I looked just the same
way, but then, I was — I had learned to esteem Edward.” Georgiana’s voice
broke. “And he betrayed my confidence.”

“He was too sure of you,” Althea pronounced grimly. “That is
the whole problem of it. That was why I left home, you see. Papa had been
pronouncing my disinheritance regularly these years, all because he thinks that
a mere female cannot be as important as his heir. I showed him what he had in
me! If you could see his letters to me — each a little more distraught than the
last. He has no more idea of how to run that household than to fly. Should I
return, I imagine I should be better appreciated. Lord, but I sound vengeful,”
she added thoughtfully.

“But how could I make Edward appreciate me?” Georgiana
stared bleakly into her teacup. “I cannot run away.” Althea nodded, and for
some minutes she and Georgiana sat with brows furrowed, pondering the problem.

“You
can
run away!” Althea said at last with such
force that Georgiana made a very small ladylike jump from her seat. “Not only
can you — I mean
we
— but you — I mean
we
— must!”

“My dear Miss Ervine — Althea — whatever do you mean?”
Georgiana asked nervously.

“I don’t mean really run away, of course. That would serve
little purpose for either of us —”

“But I thought you had already run away,” Georgiana
interrupted.

“That was merely from my father, and that was
only
running away. But what I did was to make Papa feel my absence. Georgiana, do you
see? We shall contrive to make them appreciate us, and to do that we must make
them feel the lack of us. And show them that others do appreciate us.”

“Who is
them
?” Georgiana asked. “Who else appreciates
us?”

“Them is — them are — bother —
they
are your Mr. Pendarly
— and my Sir Tracy. And why should not other people appreciate us? And I know
just how to go about it — the oldest thing in the world, but we shall be more
organized than any Greek or Roman comedy.”

“Greeks? Romans? Are what — is what you are planning
strictly — uh —
convenable
?” Georgiana asked. “I mean, are we to make
them jealous in some way?” Althea nodded. “But that is ridiculous. Not for you,
of course, but for me. Who in the world is there to make Edward in the least
jealous? No one pays me the least bit of attention at Almack’s, not since my
betrothal was announced, and before that I think it was only my fortune.”

“You are not to talk that way anymore,” Althea said briskly.
“Your attitude is all wrong. Besides which, I can think of one person at least
who has been — well, not languishing after you, but studying you through his
quizzing glass quite speculatively — I saw him do so last night at Almack’s. I
was very amused, for he used to squire Maria about, and now she is so taken up
in her Darby and Joan relationship with Francis that she has not given him the
least glance. He would never ever do for a husband, of course, but what an
admirable flirt!”

“Will you please tell me who you are speaking of?” Georgiana
pleaded in a tone between curiosity, trepidation, and laughter.

“One of Maria’s old cicisbeos, John Wallingham. He thinks
himself a famous rake, and is very good at romantic posing, so you see, if you
could just carry on a flirtation for a little while, it would serve the purpose
admirably.” Althea smiled broadly. “Did you not say that Edward liked
melodrama? Here is a fine one for him. I think he would be delighted in the
picture of himself rescuing you from the arms of Rake Wallingham. Think what
joy he would get from a duel.”

“You cannot mean a duel!” Georgiana moaned.

“Well, if you think that he would cavil over the little
matter of a meeting on a green somewhere before breakfast —” Althea relented at
Georgiana’s obvious distress. “No, please, I was only teasing you, although I
maintain that the idea would appeal to him, if not the reality. But are you
willing to try it?”

“You said we were to make them jealous,” countered
Georgiana. “With whom do you intend to whet Sir Tracy’s interest?”

“You agree that I have a reason to be angry with Mr.
Pendarly, do you not?” Althea began cautiously.

Georgiana agreed readily. “But you cannot mean to make him
the object — oh, no, Althea, please. I know that Edward will never look at me
again if you but cast a look his way.”

“Will you please rid yourself of the notion that I am some
Circe to entice him? I intend to make him mightily uncomfortable, and Tracy,
too. Never fear me, Georgiana. By the time I have done, I will have led those
two the chase they deserve — I hope — and I predict that your Edward will be so
heartily sickened of me that, even if he doesn’t suddenly discover how
fascinating you are, he will flee from me to you simply as a safe harbor from
my blandishments.”

“You go too fast for me. Can we really hope to carry this
scheme out?”

“Why not. ’Tis hardly an original idea. Are you going to the
play tonight? Have you something very ravishing to wear? And believe that you
are ravishing! That will accomplish more than a dozen bottles of Denmark Lotion
and a score of hare’s feet. Don’t forget that John Wallingham was staring at
you, and he is certainly not one to be caught admiring anyone who is not first
rate. Now what is the matter?”

Georgiana had been toying nervously with her sash. “I am not
sure I can fascinate anyone, let alone a — a rake.”

Althea snorted. “Oh lord, Georgie, Wallingham is no rake —
except in his own eyes. He’s just another of those slightly disreputable
gentlemen hanging out for a fortune — and you notice that Mr. Willis always
admits him to the Assembly Hall.”

“You think I will be safe then?” Georgiana faltered.

“If only you will take a little confidence in yourself. For
all my
fatal beauty
, you are the one with the golden curls I always
wanted. Smile! Will you take some more tea?”

The conversation continued along these lines until Debbens
entered some fifteen minutes later to announce that Miss’s barouche had
returned and was waiting outside. Georgiana gave a guilty start and rose to her
feet.

“I must leave at once. Mama hates it when I keep the horses
waiting, and besides, I promised to match some ribbons for her and have clean
forgotten to do so, so she will be in a taking over that, too. We are due at my
aunt’s for dinner before we go on to the play.”

“You will be there, then. Try and see if you cannot come to
the box we have there between the acts. We might as well begin our work at
once. Please smile, Georgiana, and don’t look so overset. It will work
famously, you shall see. Go home and tell your Mama, if she scolds, that it is
all my fault that I kept you talking so late.”

With some misgivings still unvoiced, Georgiana agreed,
thanked Althea prettily for the tea, and returned to her the shawl she had
borrowed. Althea responded with equal formality, and they parted laughing at
the absurdity of their excess of civility. Brimming with the subtleties of her
new campaign, Althea went upstairs to dress.

Maria returned home only a few minutes later. In her own
hurry to dress she forgot to stop at her sister’s door and deliver Calendar’s
message, and to inform her of the sudden change in Francis’s fortunes: there
was a note from Francis saying that he would accompany them to the theater that
evening, and in a cloud of dreamy content, Maria dressed for the occasion.

During the first act of the play, which Althea enjoyed
immensely, Georgiana contrived to catch her eye. They waved and smiled at each
other, and each felt the charming excitement of having a secret with the other,
over the heads of several dozen people. Georgiana had dressed with — for her —
unusual abandon, although her good taste had limited excess to a circassian
bodice and a garnet necklet. Her hair, also, had been done in a manner slightly
less reminiscent of the schoolroom, giving her slight figure a surprising
amount of authority.

When at last the break between acts came, Georgiana asked
Mr. Pendarly to escort her to Lady Bevan’s box. Mrs. Laverham, hearing this
request, scowled fiercely at her daughter and said in forbidding tones that it
was much better for dear Georgie to stay put and allow Mr. Pendarly to fetch her
some iced cup. Georgiana blithely ignored her mother and took Mr. Pendarly’s
arm, much to his discomforture.

“Is there someone there you wish to see particularly?” he
asked nervously as he attempted to make a path through the sea of people that
separated him from what be regarded as imminent doom.

“Of course, else I should hardly have asked you to take me
here,” Georgiana assured him as they reached the door of the box. “I was
introduced to Lady Bevan’s sister yesternight — the dearest creature. She just caught
my eye as the act closed, and I should like to speak with her,” she finished
airily.

Pendarly writhed.

In Lady Bevan’s box they found, besides Maria, Lord Bevan,
Mr. John Wallingham, and Miss Althea Ervine. Mr. Pendarly shrank back into the
curtains while Althea and Georgiana greeted each other, but after a moment a
peremptory command from Althea brought him forth. The friendship between the
two women was so patently honest that for a moment Edward Pendarly wondered if
perhaps neither was aware of what the other was to him.

“Dear Miss Laverham,” Althea said enthusiastically, “here is
Mr. John Wallingham, who has been admiring you since the play began. I am sure
he could never tell us what the action on stage has been, so taken up has he
been with watching you. Oh, and Mr. Wallingham, this is Edward Pendarly.”
Pendarly disapproved of John Wallingham on sight, unaware how much his dislike
was obvious to the people around him.

Wallingham made a deep bow over Georgiana’s hand. “If only I
had the words to tell you how honored I am to have met you at last, dear lady.
I regret that Miss Ervine has given away my secret; I suppose I shall now be
relegated to the ranks of your score of unlucky admirers.” His voice was low,
with a curiously unpleasant timbre, and the attitude behind it so fulsome as to
be almost oily. Georgiana dimpled and made herself reply in a flattered manner,
while Pendarly watched her performance with a mouth that hung unattractively open.