Gayle Buck (4 page)

Lady Basinberry gave her hand to him in a friendly fashion. “Pray do so, Sir Lionel. I am persuaded that we would enjoy your company.” At Sir Lionel’s query, she gave him the direction to the Davenport residence. Sir Lionel bowed once more and sent a familiar grin in Michele’s direction before he cantered off.

The landau started forward once more. Lydia could not contain herself. “Michele, he is simply divine. Such elegance and presence. Why ever did you not tell us that you were acquainted with such a fine gentleman?”

“I did not know that I would be meeting Sir Lionel,” Michele said, frowning slightly. It had not previously occurred to her, but naturally she would chance upon some of those individuals she had known before in Brussels. The realization brought with it very mixed feelings.

The society on the eve of Waterloo had been glittering and cosmopolitan, with representatives from every nation that had allied itself against Napoleon. The English in particular had been prominent, since not only the army had come, but all of the
ton
as well. In fact, the young English girls who made their come-out in 1815 did so not in London, but in Brussels. Undoubtedly Michele would meet others she had known and who would recall for her other memories that she found bittersweet.

“Sir Lionel strikes me as a pleasant gentleman. I will not be averse to it if he should call.’’ Lady Basinberry noted her niece’s drawn brows. “That is, unless you would not care for it, Michele.”

“Oh, no, it is a matter of indifference to me, my lady,” Michele said with a quick smile. “Sir Lionel once thought of himself as an admirer of mine. I hope that he has remained a friend.”

Lady Basinberry regarded her with a worldly expression in her cool blue eyes. “He offered for you, did he? Well, that is something, at least. That touch-me-not air of yours is rather formidable. I was beginning to think of you as hopelessly on the shelf.”

“Aunt Beatrice, what a perfectly horrid thing to say!” exclaimed Lydia indignantly.

Michele began to laugh. Her midnight-blue eyes sparkled with the leavening of her somber thoughts. “Indeed it was, Lydia, as I am certain that our aunt is well aware. Am I not right, my lady?”

Lady Basinberry smiled. She gave a pat to her niece’s arm. “You’ll do, girl. Lydia, do stop gawping. Michele and I understand one another very well. She’ll not take hurt from anything that I may say, I promise you.”

When the ladies returned home from the park. Lady Basinberry pronounced herself well-satisfied with the consequences of their outing. Her nieces had been introduced to more than a score of acquaintances, some of whom had been kind enough to proffer invitations to the young women to upcoming social functions.

“When we hold our own ball, you may be sure that we shall have full attendance, for it will now get about that I am sponsoring two lovely young misses. Curiosity alone will bring out the gentlemen. I could not be more pleased,” Lady Basinberry said, drawing off her lavender kid gloves.

Michele saw the first precipice yawning before her. “My lady, I do not care overmuch for the whirl of society. I would prefer to leave the limelight to my cousin. Indeed, I had quite intended mine to be a quiet visit.”

“Oh, no! You cannot mean it,” Lydia exclaimed, dismayed. “Why, the Season will not be half so amusing if you mean to sit at home.”

“Stuff and nonsense! I shall not hear of it. Why, you are the perfect foil for Lydia, and she for you. Pray try to be reasonable, my girl, if only for Lydia’s sake. Her golden head will be wonderfully enhanced next to your striking dark looks. The gentlemen will be drawn like flies to honey. I shall take it very ill indeed if you deprive me of this advantage over the other matrons who are bringing out young misses, Michele.”

Michelle surrendered the point with a laugh. “Very well, ma’am. I shall play the proper miss and attend those functions that I must. But I do not promise you that I shall become engaged during the course of the Season.”

“I have not asked it of you, my dear.” Lady Basinberry threw her niece a slightly mischievous smile. “At least, not yet.”

Michele shook her head and laughed again. She knew when she was faced by a formidable opponent, and Lady Basinberry displayed all the signs. That lady had every intention of seeing her tied fast to some unsuspecting gentleman before the Season was out, she thought.

Lydia clapped her hands, delighted by the outcome of the genteel sparring. “What fun we shall have together, Michele! I am so glad that you are here. And I know just the thing to put you into a proper frame of mind. We simply must go shopping. I for one wish to be at the height of fashion.”

“How right you are, Lydia,” said Lady Basinberry. “I shall accompany you myself in the morning. There are a number of shops in Mayfair that I patronize, in particular a fine modiste. You shall need a dozen new gowns. As for you, Michele, I suspect that you neglected to bring more than the requisite number of dinner gowns, since you obviously expected to dine only at home. I assure you that will not do. As my niece, you must be able to sit down with the Regent himself at a moment’s notice. Therefore prepare yourself to be put into the modiste’s capable hands.”

“Shall we truly dine with his royal highness?” Lydia asked, her eyes round.

Lady Basinberry waved her hand in an arrogant manner. “I have done so a score of times. I do not see why my consequence should not extend to you. I intend to rest an hour before dinner. Pray do not look for me again before the bell,” she said.

Lydia persuaded her cousin to go to the upstairs sitting room so that she could show Michele a certain fashion plate of an extravagant evening gown. Michele agreed that it was very pretty. “But I should not care to wear such a fussy ensemble myself, of course,” she said. Lydia looked thoughtfully at the fashion plate and decided that she did not really care for it as much as she had before. She solicited her cousin’s opinion on another gown, which won Michele’s unqualified approval.

The young ladies spent a tolerable hour perusing the latest fashions. Michele decided early on that her cousin had a decided partiality for finery beyond her years. When she diffidently pointed out that a beaded diaphanous gown was certain to prove chilly for the wearer, Lydia immediately agreed. She said brightly, “Oh, I do know it, but it is such fun to pretend to the wickedest extravagances, don’t you think?” Michele could not but laugh at Lydia’s enthusiasm.

That evening, dinner was a relaxed affair. Michele found herself enjoying Mr. Davenport’s anecdotes and Lady Basin-berry’s acid observations. Lydia was in transports over the next day’s shopping expedition and gained laughter from Michele with her professed intention to spend every farthing that Mr. Davenport could be persuaded to part with.

At once alarmed, Mr. Davenport cautioned his enthusiastic daughter on the evils of extravagance. But Lady Basinberry came to Lydia’s defense, recommending that her brother not stir into a matter that he knew nothing about, namely, bringing out a properly wardrobed young miss. “I shall tell you to your head, Edwin, that if you mean to cut up stiff over a few paltry bills, I shall wash my hands of the business,” she said. Mr. Davenport subsided, muttering under his breath of debtors’ prison.

“Never mind, uncle. At least I shall not cost you more than a pence or two, since I shall have my own allowance, which Papa assured me he would arrange to be deposited in the bank,” Michele said. She was amused when Mr. Davenport’s expression immediately brightened and he was even able to enter into the spirit of the extravagant plans put forth by Lydia. When the small company parted for the night, Michele felt much more at home than she had previously.

Chapter Four

The following morning Lady Basinberry’s confident prediction was seen to be correct. At breakfast a silver tray holding a small number of gilt-edged invitations was brought in for her ladyship’s inspection. Lady Basinberry almost purred with satisfaction as she went through the cards. “The Season has begun in fine fashion,” she declared.

The butler offered to Michele a small posy in a filigree basket, saying that the flowers had also come that morning. Michele was startled. “For me?” She removed the card attached to the flowers and unfolded it.

Lydia could not contain her curiosity. She craned her neck to see the script on the card, but she was unable to read it. “Who is it from, Michele? How exciting it all is! Why, you have not been in London above a fortnight, and already you are receiving tokens.”

Michele read the card’s message, and a frown entered her dark blue eyes.

“Cousin, who sent it?” Lydia demanded impatiently.

“The flowers are from Sir Lionel Corbett. He sends the posy as a token of his everlasting admiration,” Michele said slowly. She was not at all certain that she liked the wording of the message. But surely Sir Lionel, having once been assured of her friendship, if not her heart’s regard, would be more circumspect than to set up a flirtation with her.

“A vastly pretty sentiment,” Lady Basinberry said approvingly. “The invitations to our little ball have already gone out, but I think that I shall have one sent around to Sir Lionel as well. One cannot have too many gentlemen languishing about one’s feet. With each gentleman, one’s credit is that much more enhanced.”

Lydia giggled. “How very outrageous you are, Aunt Beatrice. Do you not agree, Michele?”

Michele set aside her perturbation over Sir Lionel’s communication and joined in the general air of gaiety. “Indeed! If Lady Basinberry has her way, we shall find ourselves up to our necks in admirers and unable to choose from among scores of offers.”

“I did not give you credit for so romantic an imagination, Michele. You have quite raised my hopes for you,” Lady Basinberry said. “I must do my utmost in securing these vast numbers of admirers, if for no other reason than to witness the resulting circus.”

“I protest, ma’am. I am not in the least romantic, but I shall plead claustrophobia,” retorted Michele.

Lady Basinberry laughed. She eyed her niece with more warmth than she had before. The girl was really quite witty when she put herself to it, she thought. It was an attribute that would shine to advantage during the Season. With her thoughts once more brought to consideration of the social round soon to begin, Lady Basinberry reaffirmed her former declaration that her nieces must be properly outfitted for the Season.

Soon after breakfast the three ladies set forth in Lady Basinberry’s landau, London’s innumerable shops as their destination.

Several merchants were visited, including a bootier, two milliners, a glover, and a modiste. Lydia was measured for the boots that she had desired. Soft slippers and walking shoes were also ordered. Michele purchased for herself an extravagant chip-straw bonnet that won envious accolades from Lydia and a noncommittal shake of the head from Lady Basinberry. Six pairs of soft kid gloves were purchased, as well as several chemises and camisoles and a dozen pairs each of silk stockings for Lydia and Michele. Lady Basinberry found a parasol and decided that a bunch of small black egret feathers would do marvels for one of her turbans. An evening reticule of knotted silver thread, half a dozen dainty lace handkerchiefs, and several lengths of satin and velvet ribbons for trimming a bonnet and a gown were pronounced absolutely necessary by Lydia.

The hours sped by and it was not until the morning was flown that Lady Basinberry pronounced herself satisfied with the results of the outing and ordered the landau directed toward home. The packages were so numerous and unwieldy that two footmen were required to unload the landau and carry the packages upstairs.

The lengthy shopping expedition had exhausted Lady Basinberry’s reserves of energy. She indicated to the butler that she would take tea in her rooms so that she could recuperate in private.

Mr. Davenport was out at his club, as was his usual custom in the middle of the day, and so Michele and Lydia were left to their own devices. After they had consumed their tea and biscuits, Michele acquiesced to Lydia’s suggestion that they go upstairs and look over their purchases.

The young ladies were inspecting their new acquisitions with a great deal of merriment when there came a knock on the bedroom door. At permission to enter, a maid brought in word that a certain gentleman had called for Miss Davenport.

In obvious dread of die answer, Lydia asked, “Is it . . . ?” At the maid’s sympathetic nod, her face drained. “No, no! I do not wish to see him,” Lydia exclaimed, clasping and unclasping her slender hands.

Michele was astonished by her cousin’s whitened face and agitated manner. “Lydia! What is wrong? Why do you behave this way?”

Lydia turned to her. “It is him! The gentleman that I told you about. Oh, Michele, pray come with me. I dare not meet with him alone.”

“But surely Lady Basinberry would not allow you to receive a gentleman alone. She will also be notified of his lordship’s arrival and will naturally come down to chaperon you,” Michele said, surprised.

“Of course Aunt Beatrice will come down. But it is as good as being alone, for she favors him too. Michele, he is so cold and . . . and aloof. He puts me out of all countenance. I ... I never know what to say. I beseech you, pray come with me. Just knowing that you are there shall, be a support to me,” Lydia said, a pleading expression in her large eyes.

Michele could not withstand her. “Of course I shall accompany you. But I wish you to know that I find you very silly.”

“Yes, I know that I am. You are truly the best of cousins,” said Lydia, at once relieved and smiling.

As the cousins made their way downstairs, Michele had difficulty believing that Lydia was as fearful of her suitor as she made out, for she chattered away as though she had not a care in the world. But as they reached the drawing-room door, Lydia’s chatter died away and the anxious look reappeared in her eyes. She reached out for Michele’s hand. Michele gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze and then motioned for Lydia to go ahead of her.

Lydia squared her shoulders and entered the drawing room. She walked gracefully over to the gentleman who stood at the mantel contemplating the fire in the grate. “My lord, it is good to see you,” she said steadily.