Jane Ashford (3 page)

“Oh yes,” put in Clarissa. “We shall have every old tabby in town breathing down our necks.”

Eliot smiled. “That is all to the good, though you may not see it. The old tabbies can get you vouchers for Almack’s and invitations to all of the fashionable parties. Am I correct in my assumption that you have no older relatives in London?”

Laura nodded. “Our aunts are our only near relatives. They are our mother’s sisters, you know. Mother died when Clarissa was born, and Father was killed in a hunting accident two years later. Our aunts took us then; indeed even I can scarcely remember our parents, and Clarissa has no memories of them at all. Our father had no brothers or sisters. I believe that a second cousin, or something of that sort, took the title. We have never met.”

Eliot nodded. “I see. Nor have I met the earl. Well then you will have to rely upon friends of your aunts and my mother.”

Laura looked at him quizzically. “I thought that a married woman might dispense with chaperones.”

He smiled. “That is true. But as you have not been to town before, I felt you might welcome the advice of more experienced ladies.”

“Oh stuff,” said Clarissa. “They will only tell us that we may not do
this
and that well brought-up young ladies never do
that
and how can we wish to go to
such
a place or purchase
such
a bonnet?” She frowned darkly. “I thought we had done with all that.”

Eliot laughed. “Well I shall not presume to dictate to you, but it is good that there are people to whom you can apply if you get into a scrape.”

Laura had been looking at him. “May we not apply to you?” she asked, uncertain whether she was relieved or offended at his delegation of responsibility.

His expression altered immediately. “Of course you may. At any time and for any reason. But I may not be able to guide you in some things.” He looked at Laura. “You have made rather a strange bargain, one you understand less than I do, perhaps. I do not wish you to suffer for it.”

Before Laura could think of a reply to this unsettling remark, Eliot said, “We must go if we are to arrive before the curtain,” and they prepared to leave.

Laura thought over his words during the short ride to the theatre, but she could make nothing of them. What had he meant by saying that he knew more of their bargain than she? Simply that he had more experience of the world? That was certainly true. She sat back in her seat with a sigh. Only time would remedy her inexperience, but perhaps she had better see to it that this happened as soon as possible.

Once settled in their box at the play, they attracted a good deal of attention. A great many people appeared to know Mr. Crenshaw and bowed or waved a hand from their own boxes and the stalls. Quizzing glasses and lorgnettes were raised to survey his companions, and more than once Laura could see the observers exchanging comments about what they saw. The intense scrutiny made her uncomfortable.

“Will your friends stop at our box during the interval?” she asked Eliot. “That is customary, is it not?”

When Eliot replied that it was and they would, Clarissa bounced a little in her chair. “Oh now we shall meet some new people at last.”

The curtain rose soon after they arrived. The play was a melodrama,
The
False
Baron
, and Laura found herself more inclined to laughter than tears. The antics of the villain and the vaporish heroine were ridiculous. She turned to see if her husband found the play as funny as she did and discovered that he was not watching the stage; rather, his gaze rested on her. She could not see his expression in the near darkness, but she hastily turned away again.

At the first interval visitors indeed appeared. Laura met several of her husband’s friends—men in their thirties who seemed to an unsophisticated girl very polished and sure of themselves. They were scrupulously attentive to the new Mrs. Crenshaw and flirted obligingly with Clarissa, but Laura did not feel that they really paid her much heed.

One or two younger men also stopped in, sent by their mothers and nervous of claiming acquaintance with the stern Mr. Crenshaw. Eliot was very gracious, however, and all were allowed to deliver the message that their mothers would be calling on the new bride very soon. One of these youngsters, Lord Timothy Farnsworth, seemed struck by Clarissa and remained talking to the sisters for several minutes.

Seeing his wife and her sister thus occupied, Eliot sat back in the rear of the box to chat with one of his closest friends.

“And so you are married, Crenshaw,” said Lord Peter Alvanley.

“Yes,” answered Eliot. He took out a plain gold snuff box and offered his friend a pinch. “Amusing, is it not?”

Lord Alvanley considered the mixture, took a minute amount, and sniffed it. He raised his eyebrows. “Very good. Well it happens to all of us, soon or late.”

Eliot shrugged.

Looking at him, the other added, “Does your bride appreciate the humor of the situation, as you appear to?”

“Women have no humor, my dear Alvanley. They are incapable of it. Emotion, feeling, even passion, yes—but humor? It is a flaw in the entire female sex that they can neither originate nor appreciate real wit. And that is the chief reason we can have no real companionship with women but merely agreeable liaisons.”

“You are very severe,” replied Lord Alvanley, somewhat taken aback, “and I cannot say I entirely agree.”

“Ah, but then you have not made a study of the subject,” answered Eliot. “I have. And while I have endured vapors, hysterics, ecstasies, and every other form of excess you can imagine from women, I have found none who could laugh with me. You may take my word.”

Lord Alvanley was about to reply when Lord Farnsworth rose to take his leave, and seeing that the curtain was about to go up again, the older man joined him, leaving the Crenshaws and Clarissa alone once more.

“How do you like your first taste of society?” Eliot asked Laura then.

She returned his challenging look. “It is quite stimulating. Or I believe it will be, once I know my way about a bit. I think I shall like it very well.”

“Good.” He gave an approving nod.

“It’s wonderful,” put in Clarissa. “And I think I have a beau. Lord Farnsworth asked permission to call on us, Laura. I said he might.”

“Farnsworth is a most eligible young man,” said Eliot, with a sardonic smile. “Something of a lightweight perhaps, but undeniably eligible.”

“Well then he will do for a start,” replied Clarissa. “One can’t expect perfection all at once.” The others laughed at her as the curtain rose once more.

The second interval was like the first. Laura soon lost track of the names she heard and began to feel tired. They had come to town only this morning, after all, and this had been a long and eventful day. She was not at all sorry when the play ended and they climbed into the carriage to go home.

***

When they reached the house, they walked up the stairs together. Clarissa went directly to bed, but the newlyweds paused in the corridor outside Laura’s room. For a moment she felt nervous again. But then Eliot said, “I wished to tell you that I have no intention of forcing you to do anything you do not like. This must, of course, remain a marriage of form only for some time, until you know me better. I hope we will become good friends, Laura.”

“Thank you, Eliot. You are very kind. I hope that, too.”

He smiled down at her. “With such good motives we cannot fail. You must always tell me if you think that is not so, and I will endeavor to do better.”

“Thank you,” Laura said again.

“You need not thank me, Laura… for what is only your due, after all. Good night. Sleep well.” And he turned toward the door of his own bedchamber down the hall.

“Good night,” echoed Laura. She stood still, alone in the hall, thinking over what her husband had said. She could find no fault with his words, but his tone had bothered her. He spoke to her as one speaks to a child, a child in whom one is not really interested. It was as if… Laura struggled to make her feelings clear. It was as if he had been appointed her guardian suddenly, and he felt responsible for her welfare and happiness but did not really care about her at all. She nodded once. Yes, Eliot was conscientiously doing his duty and nothing more.

As she opened her bedroom door, Laura wondered how she felt about this state of affairs. There were worse things than to be the responsibility of a man of honor. But somehow she felt dissatisfied. She had never wished to be anyone’s
duty
. After a time she sighed and went to fetch her nightgown. Perhaps she was being fanciful. It was late, and she was tired. No doubt all would look better in the morning.

Things did indeed appear more cheerful in the clear morning light, and Laura dismissed her uneasiness with a shrug. No doubt time would cure any awkwardness in her situation. Mr. Dunham showed her through the house. At first this seemed odd, but since there was no housekeeper and no butler, the task fell to him. And Laura soon found that he was well informed about the details of the establishment and had played a large role in assembling it. She met the cook, a large easygoing woman, and the other servants, and saw the kitchens, the spare bedchambers, and main rooms. The library was still unfinished, but the drawing room and dining room were complete to a shade. She could find no fault.

Mr. Dunham remained rather stiff with her. Did he perhaps disapprove of his master’s marriage, Laura wondered? Thus she was a little wary of suggesting changes and was relieved when the tour of the house was over and she could return to the breakfast room for another cup of tea. She found Clarissa there, just beginning her meal.

“Laura, come look at this,” cried the younger girl when she saw her sister. “It is the most stylish thing imaginable, don’t you think?” She held up a recent number of the
La
Belle
Assemblée
to show Laura a half dress of bronze green crepe.

Laura smiled. “Very dashing.”

“Isn’t it? I mean to have one made up. I can wear it with my chip bonnet and my half boots for walking. Can we go to Bond Street this morning?”

“I am not certain, that is…”

Clarissa cocked an eyebrow. “About what? Are you busy with the house? I don’t mean to tease you into squiring me about. I should be just as happy with Nancy, I daresay. She is the funniest maid; she seems to know nothing whatsoever of fashion or how to dress hair or anything of that sort. But she would be happy to accompany me shopping; indeed she would consider it a high treat.”

“It is not that,” said Laura. “It is just that I do not yet know about money, you see.”

“Oh.” Her sister looked nonplussed. “I did not even consider it. How shatterbrained I am. But you will have an allowance, Laura. It is the customary thing. Our aunts gave me fifty pounds before we left Eversly. Let us begin with that.”

Laura shook her head. “I should prefer to be clear on it first. Go on with your breakfast, Clarissa. I will see if Eliot is in.”

She found him in the hall, leaving a letter in the tray to be posted. When he saw her on the stairs, he smiled. “Good morning. I trust you slept well?” Laura nodded. “Good. I wanted to talk with you today. I was waiting until you had been over the house. But first, were you looking for me?”

“Yes. Clarissa wishes to go out shopping, and I wondered, that is, I was not certain…” She faltered. It was terribly difficult to ask this near stranger for pocket money.

He held up a hand. “You have hit upon just the matter I wanted to discuss. I thought it best to set up both a household account and a personal account for you. I know you have never managed a house before, and I thought it would be easier. Sums might be deposited quarterly, if that meets with your approval?” And he mentioned an amount that Laura thought immense. “What do you think? Would you prefer to have only one account?”

“No. This sounds best.”

“I had thought also that Dunham might be given access to the household account so that he can relieve you of some of the more routine duties. He is part secretary and part valet, you know, and is fully capable of doing accounts. This will be
only
if you like it, of course.”

Laura bowed her head. “His help would be welcome,” she said, a true enough statement, though she did not relish the thought of spending much time in Mr. Dunham’s company.

“Good. I have already placed a rather larger sum in your account, knowing that you would wish to outfit yourself. You may draw on it whenever you please. And you need only make yourself known in the shops, of course.”

“Yes. Thank you very much. You are very generous.”

He looked down at her. “You needn’t thank me, Laura.” When she said nothing, he went on. “I am going to take the team out this morning and see whether they are recovered completely. I shan’t be home much before dinner, I imagine. If you wish to go out, there is a barouche in the stables for you. Just tell them to bring it round.”

Laura started to thank him again, then merely nodded instead. He wished her a good day and strode out the front door. Then Laura went to the breakfast room, where Clarissa was just finishing.

“It is all settled,” she told her sister. “We can go out whenever you are ready.”

“Then you are to have an allowance?”

“Yes.” Her eyes twinkling, Laura told her sister the figure.

“Good God! Why, that is a fortune.” Clarissa looked thoughtful. “Do you suppose, my dear, that Mr. Crenshaw is… very rich? I never considered the matter until this moment. What a ninnyhammer I am; how could I not? He must be very wealthy indeed if he can afford such a magnificent allowance.”

“I suppose so,” replied Laura. “I had not thought of it either. I left all that to our aunts.”

Clarissa shook her head. “We are a sadly impractical pair. A young lady’s first thought ought to be whether a man has a proper income, after all. Then she knows how to think of him.”

Laura choked. “It is so difficult to remember all the rules of propriety.” Clarissa gave a peal of laughter. “But you know, Clarissa, it is all very well to say such things to me, but you mustn’t run on in that way before strangers.”

Her younger sister dimpled. “Dragon. I know it, of course. I shall be a model of rectitude, have no fear. But I have to say that I am very glad you are rich. It is a comfortable thought. We might have known it, really, if we had bothered to think. Mrs. Crenshaw appears very plump in the pocket. It stands to reason her son is also.”

“Plump in the… What does that mean?”

Clarissa grinned. “Rich, of course. Nancy is teaching me all sorts of new words. You never have heard such colorful language, Laura.”

“I daresay.” Laura made a stern face. “You know quite well that we mustn’t use slang. Remember what Aunt Eleanor said.” She modulated her voice and managed a very lifelike imitation of their anxious aunt. “Clarissa, my love, whatever can you mean? Such a vulgar phrase. It makes me feel quite faint to hear you speak so. Where are my drops? Have you seen them, dear? I do not mean to complain, but I really do think that I should lie down for a moment or two. And if you would just bring me my shawl, dear.”

Clarissa laughed again, and Laura looked guilty. “Oh I should not mock her so. She means well. All the excitement is making me giddy.”

Clarissa shrugged. “It’s only funning. Come, let us get ready and go out. I long to see the shops on Bond Street at last. We can take a hackney too. I have never ridden in one.”

Laura smiled mischievously. “But we have our own barouche. Don’t you wish to try it?”

Clarissa had risen and started toward the door, but this stopped her. “A barouche? Do you really, Laura? Oh how splendid! We can drive in the park; that is all the crack, you know. Mr. Crenshaw is certainly doing things in bang-up style. Let us hurry.”

***

Their shopping expedition was very lively. For two young ladies who had never been in a town larger than Grantham, the brilliance of Bond Street was irresistible. Each ordered several dresses from an elegant Frenchwoman who presided over a select establishment there, and they purchased bonnets, slippers, and other accessories as well. Laura stopped to put down her name at the circulating library, and Clarissa insisted that they drive past Almack’s so that she might at least gaze at the exterior of this hallowed building.

“They call it the Marriage Mart, you know,” she told Laura. “I do hope we can get vouchers. It is indispensable.”

Laura shook her head. “I begin to worry about you. You are becoming quite a romp now that we are in town.”

“Becoming? But I talk so only to you; you know that. Indeed I have always done so. Marriage is making you gothic, sister.” She glanced teasingly at Laura.

Laura sighed. “Oh no, but this is not simply a lark for me. I am
married
, Clarissa, and I shall be for the rest of my life.”

The younger girl was distinctly taken aback. “You are, aren’t you? I hadn’t thought of it in just that way.” She turned to look closely at her sister. “I have been abominably selfish, treating all this as a glorious adventure when you are
worrying
. I am sorry.”

Laura smiled at her stricken expression. “Well it is not so bad as all that. I am not worrying. But this is not simply a trip to town for me, you see.”

“I do see that now,” replied Clarissa, looking at Laura.

“And so you must help me to adjust to my new state,” added Laura lightly. “Now, do you wish to try on that bonnet with the ostrich plumes? Or are you ready to return home?”

Clarissa signified that she had had enough shopping for one day, and they turned toward Regent Street again. The barouche was piled with boxes, though only a fraction of what they had bought, and both footmen had to come out to carry packages into the house.

***

The girls removed their bonnets and pelisses and went down to eat a light luncheon of cold meat and fruit. They had just finished and moved on to the drawing room when Mr. Dunham announced that they had callers and ushered three elderly ladies into the room.

Laura and Clarissa rose to greet their visitors, who introduced themselves as old friends of their aunts. Mrs. Dillingham, Lady Quale, and Mrs. Boothe were much alike—small, gray-haired, fashionable women in their fifties. Their first interest was Laura’s marriage.

“Such a good match, my dear,” complimented Lady Quale. “Our young ladies have been setting their caps at Mr. Crenshaw for years with absolutely no effect. We had come near to giving him up altogether. You are a close friend of his mother, I understand?”

Laura agreed that she was.

“Ah. I have not had the pleasure of meeting her myself. She lives chiefly in the country, I take it. Well that probably explains it.” She nodded at her companions, who nodded back sagely. “A mother’s influence in these matters.”

Mrs. Dillingham added, “And you not even out, my dear Laura. What a coup!”

“My aunts were a bit reluctant to send me to London,” answered Laura stiffly. She was not enjoying this conversation, but she resolutely kept her composure at the sight of Clarissa’s darkening countenance.

“Celia and Eleanor never cared for London,” said Mrs. Boothe. “They came out in the same season, you know. A disaster. It is always a mistake to bring out two girls at once. You cannot make a clear impression. Well, well, I suppose they thought you would not care for town life either. Though two such lovely girls!”

“Laura has made a good match without,” said Lady Quale, “so it has all worked out for the best.”

Seeing that Clarissa was about to explode, Laura said, “You will have some tea, I hope.”

Their visitors accepted the offer, and Laura gave the orders. When she returned to the sofa, she found that the conversation had shifted to Clarissa’s prospects, and her heart sank.

“You are to make your bow to society this season, my dear?” asked Lady Quale of the younger girl.

“Yes,” answered Clarissa shortly, her dark eyes sparkling dangerously.

“Well I should think she will take quite nicely,” said Lady Quale to Mrs. Boothe.

“Oh no doubt of it. I shall get you vouchers for Almack’s from my friend Lady Jersey. And you must both come to my rout next week.”

At the promise of such plums, Clarissa’s expression softened markedly, Laura was relieved to see. “You are very kind,” she answered. “We should be delighted.”

Mrs. Boothe nodded as if this was to be expected. “I shall have a number of eligible gentlemen. I must think who you should meet.” She fell silent in concentration.

“What about young Hareford?” asked Mrs. Dillingham. And the three ladies were off on an extended discussion of the current set of bachelors on the town and their relative merits as husbands. Now that their attention was diverted from the sisters, the ladies’ talk appeared to amuse Clarissa no end. She glanced at Laura delightedly, just barely repressing outright laughter, and her sister shook her head.

Tea arrived and was served without interrupting the debate. Obviously the girls had unwittingly triggered one of the chief concerns of their callers’ lives—the business of marriage. Just as Laura had resigned herself to hearing an exhaustive catalog of every girl the three had seen married since they had come to town and the role each had played in the courtship, Mr. Dunham brought in more visitors. “Mrs. and Miss Rundgate, ma’am,” he said.

Laura rose with alacrity as a large, comfortable-looking lady came into the drawing room, followed by a slight pretty blonde girl. “How do you do,” said the first. “Anne Crenshaw asked me to call and see how you are getting on in London. May I present my daughter, also an Anne.” The girl dropped a small curtsy as Laura expressed her pleasure in meeting a friend of Mrs. Crenshaw’s and begged the two to be seated.

Mrs. Rundgate nodded to the three other visitors and sat down opposite them. Her daughter, after hesitating a moment, went to sit beside Clarissa. “How are you, Mrs. Dillingham?” said the mother. “I haven’t seen you this age.”

“Quite well, thank you.” The four seemed to know each other, so Laura did not attempt introductions.

“And so you are settled in town?” asked Mrs. Rundgate, turning to Laura again. “This is a very elegant house.”

“Thank you,” Laura replied. “We are nearly settled. There is still some arranging to be done.”

Mrs. Rundgate nodded lazily. “What a botheration it is. I always say to my husband, ‘Why must we move back and forth from the country year after year? It causes such a vast deal of trouble for me.’ But he likes town life, and this year, of course, I am bringing Anne out, so there was no question of our remaining in Devonshire. You must come to the ball I have arranged to present her, in three weeks’ time.”

Laura nodded a grateful acceptance and turned to smile at Anne Rundgate. “You must be very excited. Is it your first ball?”