Gayle Buck (2 page)

“And I also! Why, that dazzler could have any number of suitors with but a crook of her little finger,” Mr. Davenport said.

“Still, Michele was not at all enthusiastic at the notion of a London Season,” Lady Basinberry said slowly. She pursed her lips in her habitual way. “We shall see how things go on before I make any judgments. I venture to say, however, that it will be an interesting Season.” She began drawing on her gloves.

Mr. Davenport saw this sign of leave-taking with misgiving. “I say, Beatrice, not going yet, surely?”

Lady Basinberry looked at him. “Of course I am, Edwin. I do have other calls to make.”

“I hope that you are not engaged for dinner this evening, Beatrice, for I would like you to come back here. Lydia has not seen you this month past, you know. And certainly your presence must lend ease to what is essentially an awkward gathering,” said Mr. Davenport.

“I do not deny that my curiosity still runs high. Very well, Edwin. You may expect me to join you for dinner,” Lady Basinberry said as she rose. She gave her hand to Mr. Davenport, who managed to execute a slight deferential bow to her before she sailed out of the drawing room.

Chapter Two

Michele was shown by a maidservant to a charming bedroom furnished with solid, graceful mahogany pieces of Chippendale design and accented by rich shades of green in the draperies and carpet. The maid who had traveled from Belgium with her had already unpacked the trunks and portmanteaus, putting away gowns and day dresses in the wardrobe and soft frilly undergarments, stockings, gloves, and nightclothes in the three drawers of the commode. At her mistress’s entrance, the maid made a soft inquiry and gestured toward a brass tub that had been set before the fire, along with a screen ready to be drawn in front of it to guard against drafts.

Michele shook her head. “I think that I shall rest first before dressing for dinner. You may draw a bath then,” she said. The maid nodded her understanding and quietly closed the door when she left the room.

Michele lay down on top of the coverlet on the canopied bed. She was weary from the long journey but she found that she could not nap. Instead her thoughts wandered. She smiled as she recalled the determined manner in which her loving parents had dispatched her to England and the kindness of relations.

The interview just ended had proved most interesting. Her uncle, Mr. Davenport, was patently anxious to please, so she felt confident that with that gentleman she could quickly establish a comfortable relationship. However, Lady Basinberry was a different matter altogether. Her ladyship had been all that was gracious, with the single exception of that betraying statement, regarding Francois du Bois, but her frosty glance had never warmed and her gently couched questions had been penetrating. Lady Basinberry wore an air of authority, certainly enhanced by the severity of her attire, thought Michele. Her lavender walking dress, though elegant of cut, was conservatively trimmed with ribbons, while her gray velvet poke bonnet had been graced with only a small bunch of black feathers. Michele suspected she would find in Lady Basinberry an exacting hostess of unbending tastes and sense of duty, of which the latter quality could prove uncomfortable for herself if her ladyship had been taken into her parents’ confidence. Michele sighed on the thought.

She knew it was her parents’ hope that a stay in London would reawaken her former giddy pleasure in society. Her parents could not accept that she had little interest in the social rounds that had once delighted her or that she preferred not to be sought out by the gentlemen who had once formed an admiring circle about her.

Michele had attempted to explain that after seeing and tending those who had been wounded in the costly battle of Waterloo, she found the frivolity of her former life incredibly boring. Though Michele did not touch on it, her mother had guessed correctly that the greatest influence upon Michele had been the loss of her wartime fiancé. She had had a true attachment to the young officer, which afterward had led her to discourage more than one hopeful gentleman.

Though Michele had not eschewed society, she was conscious of a desire to retreat quietly to those pursuits least likely to bring her into contact with company whose pleasures depended upon flirtation. Michele smiled faintly, recalling the gay, naive young girl she had been, who had desired nothing better than to attend the most sparkling functions and to flirt outrageously with as many gentlemen as possible. It seemed a very long time ago.

The bedroom door burst open and Michele sat up in surprise.

A lovely young girl with an abundance of golden curls flitted across the room toward the bed. Her blue eyes were laughing in expression as her glance met Michele’s startled gaze. “Oh, how perfectly lovely you are! I am so glad that you have come. I am Lydia, your cousin. But of course you must have guessed it,” she said blithely. She made herself comfortable on the bed beside Michele. “I do apologize for interrupting your nap, but I simply could not wait. I am a very selfish creature, you see.”

Michele was amused by her cousin’s confiding air. “I am happy to make your acquaintance, Lydia. I do not mind in the least that you visit me.’’

“What a delightful lilt you possess! It is French, isn’t it? Not that you do not speak English splendidly, but you give it such a musical sound,” Lydia said.

“In Brussels and in the south of Belgium, where my father’s family is from, we speak French because we are so close to France. However, Flemish is spoken north of the capital because there the people are nearer the Netherlands,” said Michele. At Lydia’s awed expression, she laughed. “It makes for very interesting conversations, believe me!”

“So I should think! I shall want to know about everything, I promise you, for I have never been out of England. I know Papa visited your home once or twice—oh, years ago—but I expect you were too small to recall him,” said Lydia, her smile warm. She held out her hand in an easy way. “I do so hope that we are to be friends.”

Michele shook her cousin’s hand, responding with a smile of her own. Her dark eyes twinkled. “I cannot imagine why we should not.”

“Of course we shall be. I shall begin by informing you of all my secrets and pledge you to silence,” said Lydia.

Michele laughed outright. “You are really the most engaging creature, cousin.”

“Am I actually? How frightfully wonderful! You see how nicely we complement one another,” said Lydia, pleased.

Michele learned in an hour of sprightly chatter everything about her young cousin, including the fact that Lydia was desperately in love with a military man. “But Papa will not consent to Bernard’s suit, even though he likes Bernard perfectly well. But Bernard is a younger son and in the military, and since the war has ended there is not much hope for swift promotion. I do not care a rush for any of it, except for supporting Bernard in his ambitions, of course. But Papa talks a great deal of rot about supporting me in the manner to which I am accustomed. As though I would not trade my entire closet of gowns for the privilege of marrying my beloved Bernard,” Lydia said.

“Your beloved Bernard might cavil at the thought of his wife promenading about in only her shifts,” Michele said, reclining comfortably upon her pillows.

Lydia giggled and agreed to it. “But it is not likely to come to that. Why, there are postings all over the world. Captain Bernard Hughes will make his mark someday. In the meantime, I simply must stand firm and not give Papa an ounce of encouragement that I shall settle for anyone else but my—”

“—beloved Bernard,” finished Michele, nodding. “Yes, I can quite see that might be difficult. You are an attractive young lady and must have scores of suitors.”

“Not scores, actually,” Lydia said with becoming honesty. “I am only just coming out, you see. But there is a lord who has approached Papa and asked permission to pay court to me. I do not care for the gentleman in the least. He is cold and haughty—and much older than me, to boot. But Papa is dazzled by the prospect of his only daughter being addressed as ‘her ladyship’ and he says that I must give his lordship a proper chance to win me over. As though I ever could be won over, when I have Bernard’s undying affection.” She said the last rather scornfully.

‘‘Perhaps once this unwelcome suitor divines the strength of your feelings for Captain Hughes, he will gracefully bow himself out of the running.”

Lydia reflected upon what her cousin had said, but then she shook her head. “I do not think it likely. That his lordship will divine my feelings, I mean. After all, I do not see how he can overlook my feelings toward
him
unless he is totally insensible. I quake whenever I am in his presence, you see. No, it needs something far more persuasive than my timidity to convince his lordship to transfer his intentions elsewhere.”

“If his lordship is as unimpressionable as you say, I can only advise you to be honest with him. Believe me, no honorable gentleman wishes to marry a lady whose heart is bound to another.”

Lydia stared at her in horror. “I? But I could never talk to him in such a way. Why, I would die on the spot from fright.”

“Then there is nothing for it. You shall have to marry him,” Michele said cheerfully.

“Oh, now you are teasing me! It is too bad of you! You have such a
look
in your eyes, Michele. I believe that you would tweak the whiskers of the devil himself,” Lydia exclaimed. Her eyes suddenly brightened. “I have thought of the very thing. You shall speak to his lordship for me and explain about Bernard and—”

“I shall do no such thing,” Michele said firmly. “Quite apart from the distaste I would have for the task, such a course of action would hardly endear me to your father. I thank you, but no. My interference ends with my one small bit of advice.”

“At least while you are here I shall have someone about me who understands,” Lydia said, sighing. “I do hope that you will not leave me altogether to the wolf, Michele. Could you not occasionally speak to his lordship so that he is not forever looking at me? When I am around him I feel like a bug must when it is pinned and studied.”

Michele laughed at her cousin’s vivid description of social nerves. “Of course I shall. It would be impolite of me to ignore his lordship, would it not?”

“Thank you, Michele! I simply knew that I could rely on you,” Lydia said gratefully.

The bedroom door opened and Michele’s maid entered, carrying a copper pail of hot water. She paused at sight of Lydia and glanced doubtfully at her mistress.

Lydia at once rose from the bed, shaking the creases from her muslin skirt. “I see that you are getting up a bath. I shall leave you to it, then. We shall meet again at dinner, I expect,” she said, going to the door.

“Undoubtedly,” Michele said with a smile. Lydia laughed and gave a wave as she left the bedroom.

Michele’s relations had already assembled in the drawing room when she went downstairs to join them. She apologized for her tardiness, explaining that her maid had had a little difficulty in making herself understood by the upstairs staff when she had asked for an iron to press her mistress’s gown. Michele had been appealed to by both frustrated parties and the domestic crisis had amused her. She was not behind in conveying the ludicrous situation to her audience, setting Mr. Davenport and Lydia off into laughter. But Lady Basinberry merely sniffed. “I assume that we are to dine this evening?” she asked pointedly.

Mr. Davenport hastily offered his arm to his sister and they led the way into the dining room. Lydia made a grimacing face at her aunt’s erect back and whispered for Michele’s ears only, “Do not pay a particle of heed to Aunt Beatrice’s crusty manner. She can be a veritable shrew, but she is really rather softhearted underneath it all.”

Michele smiled for reply, keeping private her doubts about her cousin’s estimation of Lady Basinberry’s character. Lydia was certainly more charitable than she would be herself, she thought.

Dinner was enlivened by Lydia’s curious and unending questions about Brussels. Michele answered those about fashion and society, but she drew the line at the most outrageous. “Of course not! I would not dare attend that kind of theater. It is scandalous. But wherever did you hear of it?” she asked.

Lady Basinberry eyed her younger niece. “Pray do enlighten us, my dear Lydia. I am certain we are all consumed with curiosity as to your source,” she said cordially.

Lydia had the grace to blush. She had no intention of revealing that it had been Captain Hughes who had made a passing reference about the scandalous entertainment. It would not endear him to her father, she knew. “I am sure that I must have read about it somewhere,’’ she said breezily. Immediately she turned the subject. “Michele, do try the fish. It is quite delicious this evening. Papa, do you not think so?”

Mr. Davenport agreed that the fish was very good, but he smiled knowingly at his daughter. “Aye, you consider yourself a clever puss. I shall allow you to slide away this time, but mind that you are to be more discreet in future. Polite society frowns on a young lady who sports knowledge of those things of which she should not be aware.”

“Yes, Papa.” Lydia dimpled at him.

“Lydia, did you not say before we came in to dinner that you were in need of a new pair of boots? I have just now recalled the name of an excellent bootier given to me by my friend Mrs. Angleton,” Lady Basinberry said.

“Have you indeed, Aunt Beatrice? Pray tell me the direction of the shop, for I shall wish to order a pair as soon as I may,” Lydia said.

Under cover of the conversation between Lady Basinberry and his daughter, Mr. Davenport leaned over to address Michele. “You see how it is, Michele. Lydia is but two years younger than you, but she is completely unschooled in how to go on. I have done my best, and so has a string of governesses, but a mother’s touch was lacking when it became most needed. However, it has occurred to me that you could prove to be a positive example to my Lydia out in society. She is too timid and naive for her own good, which at times leads her into indiscretion.”