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Authors: The Imprudent Wager

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BOOK: Lucy Muir
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Lord Woolbridge’s normally open countenance appeared closed and angry as he flicked his team forward. He was too gentlemanly to refer to the cut directly, but he comforted Melissa as best he could.

“Her grace the Dowager Duchess of Carroll is exceedingly high in the instep. She thinks it below her to acknowledge anyone who does not have a title in their own right.”

“Yes, and think what harm your reputation has been done in her eyes to be seen with the daughter of a baron, and worse, the daughter of a mere Major Southwell,” Anne said lightly.

Melissa smiled uncertainly and tried to hide the hurt she had been dealt by the snub, but the jaunty angle at which she had held her parasol dropped. When Lord Woolbridge stopped his curricle to greet more acquaintances, she shrank back imperceptibly into the squabs and did not look up until she was spoken to. However, the gentlemen were very courteous and complimentary to both Melissa and her cousin, and some of the young woman’s confidence began to return. Lord Woolbridge smiled at her as though to say, “See!” and Anne squeezed her ward’s hand encouragingly.

As they continued around the Park and all the acquaintances they met spoke to them, Melissa’s spirits recovered completely. Perhaps the dowager
was
simply high in the instep. She chatted happily with her friends, and noted the new fashions being exhibited by the people on the Promenade.

“Look at Miss Armstrong’s bonnet,” she said enviously to Anne as a curricle with that young woman and her mother came abreast of them. She looked longingly at the wide-brimmed bonnet of twist ornamented with a short lace veil.

Mrs. Armstrong exchanged greetings with the viscount and Melissa called cheerfully to her friend.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Armstrong. Where did you purchase your new bonnet, Miss Armstrong? It becomes you wonderfully well.”

To Melissa’s consternation, Miss Armstrong did not reply to her question, but looked down to the floor of the curricle, and Mrs. Armstrong acted as though Melissa and her guardian were not even there. Melissa looked to Anne and saw that her guardian was in her turn behaving as though no one were in the curricle next to theirs, holding herself proudly and speaking only to Lord Woolbridge. Melissa felt she should follow her guardian’s example, but the unkind snub made her want to shrink into herself, not hold herself proudly erect.

The viscount put his curricle in motion without another glance or word to the Armstrongs. As they continued around the Park, Melissa’s eyes shone with unshed tears. No one could say that a plain Mrs. Armstrong was too high in the instep to acknowledge a baron’s daughter, she thought miserably. Something was seriously wrong. She noted gratefully that Lord Woolbridge was taking them back home. Earlier that afternoon she had longed to go out, but now she just wanted to return to the safety of the house on Half Moon Street.

* * * *

As the cousins entered their townhouse and handed their wraps to Sanders, Melissa looked at Anne questioningly, and Anne told her to go into the drawing room where they could talk. Anne watched her miserable ward with compassion. This was what Captain Leslie had warned her about. She wished she could have spared Melissa the experience, for she could see that Melissa was deeply hurt. Although, Anne thought wryly, the cuts they had experienced were nothing to what they could expect in the future if the rumours became widespread. She followed her ward into the drawing room.

“What is it, Anne?” Melissa asked, her eyes still filled with tears. “Why were we cut by the Dowager Duchess of Carroll and Mrs. Armstrong?”

Anne drew Melissa down on the settee beside her.

“I am afraid there are rumours going around about us again.”

“The ones about our finances?” Melissa questioned.

“No, they are much worse this time,” Anne explained. “Someone is saying that I am no better than I should be.”

Melissa looked shocked, startled out of her misery at the cuts for a moment. She knew her cousin’s upbringing had been unconventional, but no one could say Anne was not proper.

“Who would say such a thing?” she asked in bewilderment.

“I do not know,” Anne sighed. “I would have warned you, but I did not know myself until Captain Leslie informed me of the rumours this afternoon.” She looked gravely at her ward. “I must prepare you. The cuts we experienced this afternoon on the drive with Lord Woolbridge were mild compared to what we may expect in the future. Most likely the viscount’s presence spared us some today.”

Melissa was silent for a moment, her fingers unconsciously pleating the material of her gown. The experience of being cut had hurt her deeply. If that was what they could expect when they went out, she would rather stay in.

“What can we do?” she finally asked.

“There is very little we can do, I’m afraid,” Anne admitted. “But although we shall be excluded from many of the ton’s entertainments for a while, our real friends will continue to invite us to theirs, and in time another
on dit
will take precedence over this one and it will be forgotten.”

As soon as she said the words, Anne wondered if she had done the right thing to give Melissa much hope. It was possible these rumours would not pass as quickly as the last. It was true that their friends would not desert them, but the question was how many friends they had. Well, even Captain Leslie had said it would pass with time. She hugged Melissa closely and, taking a handkerchief from her reticule, dried her ward’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, Melissa, it will come right in the end,” she said. That at least she could say with confidence, Anne thought.

Melissa smiled and returned her guardian’s embrace. “I know it will,” she replied with a quaver in her voice that belied the brave words.

* * * *

Not far away, Lord Stanton relaxed with Prince George in Carlton House, the Prince’s preferred residence when he was in Town. The Prince did not get along at all well with his father, particularly since the marriage George III had arranged for his son with the Princess Caroline. When in London, the Prince of Wales chose to live in his own palace, surrounded by his intimate friends. They sat together companionably, drinking some of the Prince’s favourite cherry brandy. “Enlighten me concerning the latest
on dits”
commanded the Prince. “What’s this I hear about the latest Incomparable being chaperoned by a woman who’s no better than she should be, eh? Miss Amberly, I think her name was. Never got to see her, and now it’s unlikely she’ll be attending many functions. Is she as beautiful as they say?”

Lord Stanton thought that perhaps here he would have a chance to aid Anne and Miss Amberly. He organized his thoughts carefully.

“Yes. It’s a pity, for Miss Amberly is truly beautiful, and good as well. She and her cousin, who is her guardian, came to Town so she might have a chance to make a good match. The guardian, Miss Southwell, is the daughter of Major Southwell. He and his son were both killed in Egypt while serving under Abercromby. It’s a pity the rumours are ruining their chances, for there’s not a speck of truth to them.”

“How’d they get started?”

Lord Stanton played his trump card. “Believe it was Lady Conliffe. One of her court, the Viscount Woolbridge, transferred his affections to Miss Amberly.”

The Prince shifted his considerable bulk and his chair creaked. He glowered angrily at the mention of Lady Conliffe, for he disliked her intensely. Some cutting remarks she had made about his weight during the Season last year had been overheard and repeated.

“By God, I won’t have it, Stanton,” the Prince said suddenly, lowering his glass of cherry brandy and banging his fist on the table. “Can’t have the lives of daughters of our loyal officers being ruined by scurrilous lies.”

“Perhaps if you were to invite them to a supper at Carlton House...” Lord Stanton suggested.

“Capital idea! If I am seen to notice them, all but the highest sticklers must accept them.” The Prince looked at Lord Stanton shrewdly. “How d’ye come to know so much about them, Stanton? Didn’t know you were interested in young misses.”

“The older cousin is not a young miss, but a beautiful woman,” said Lord Stanton.

“Oh, so that’s the way the wind blows, is it? Well, I’ll help you out Stanton,” he agreed, and added under his breath, “particularly if it will serve Lady Conliffe a bad turn.”

 

Chapter Eight

 

The arrival of the thick cream-coloured invitation with gold edges sent the whole household at Half Moon Street into a tizzy. When Benton realised it was from Carlton House, he delivered it to his young mistresses with a flourish. Anne and Melissa could not believe that it had not been issued by mistake. Mrs. Halcott was summoned immediately.

“Carlton House,” Mrs. Halcott breathed, fingering the invitation almost reverently.

“Yes, but why would we be invited?” Anne asked. “Particularly now, when the new rumours are going about.”

“Don’t question your good fortune. It’s the very thing. Do you realise that this invitation could put you back into good standing with the ton? No one will dare countenance the rumours if the Prince shows that he does not.”

“But why?” Anne repeated perplexedly. “We are neither of the aristocracy, nor have we ever seen the Prince. Why should he condescend to take notice of us?”

“You must have a supporter among the haul ton who has access to the Prince’s ear.”

“Who?”

“Don’t refine upon it too much, Anne. Just be thankful,” Mrs. Halcott advised sagely. “Now, we must inspect your wardrobes to see if you have any clothes that will be suitable to wear there.”

Anne dropped the subject as she and Melissa led Mrs. Halcott upstairs to inspect their gowns, but she continued to turn the puzzle over in her head. The only person she knew who had access to the Prince’s ear was Lord Stanton. But why should he help her? The rumours might have ensured his winning the bet. Yet he had helped her before by having them invited to his sister’s. Or was he hoping she would put a foot wrong before the exalted company at Carlton House? Or was Lord Stanton not involved at all? She gave up guessing. Perhaps Mrs. Halcott was right, and she should not refine upon it too much. She turned her full attention to Mrs. Halcott, who was discussing with Sanders the merits of two of Melissa’s gowns. They were able to find gowns for both that would suit, which was a relief to Anne. She did not want to dig deeper into her rapidly dwindling funds.

Later that morning, Viscount Woolbridge came to call upon Melissa and asked her if she wished to ride with him in the Park that afternoon. Melissa accepted happily, and then, unable to keep their good fortune to themselves, showed the viscount their invitation.

“Carlton House? That is of all things wonderful!” he exclaimed, and then lest his enthusiasm seem to indicate that he was thinking of their besmirched reputations, he added, “I mean to say, I am invited that evening also, and would be happy to serve as your escort, Miss Amberly.”

“Thank you, Lord Woolbridge,” Melissa said. “I should be grateful for your escort.”

As Anne watched the two converse, she felt it would not be long before the viscount approached her for permission to pay his addresses to Melissa. The gossip had not kept him away, and the devotion to Melissa, so plain in his hazel eyes, had never wavered. Melissa, looking demure in her simple rose sarcenet morning dress, was harder to read. She had not confided her feelings about her beaux to Anne. For the first time, this struck Anne as rather odd. She did not have long to reflect upon it, for Lord Millbank and his sister arrived. Melissa immediately made them acquainted with their good fortune in being invited to Carlton House.

“Pleased to be your escort, Miss Southwell,” Lord Millbank said when it became apparent she had none, waving his scented handkerchief gracefully. He leaned against the mantelpiece, looking quite happy with the tippy figure he presented in his canary coat, striped waistcoat and red neckcloth.

For a moment Anne’s heart sank. She didn’t want to go to Carlton House in the company of this young Tulip of Fashion. What if Lord Stanton were to see her with him? Then she was heartily ashamed of her reaction. Lord Millbank and his sister had been two of their staunchest supporters and best friends since they had arrived in London.

She accepted graciously and they made plans to go together in the viscount’s large town carriage. The two gentlemen then departed, leaving Amelia, who wished to discuss the plans for her coming-out ball to be held the next week. Anne left Lady Amelia and Melissa happily deciding what they were going to wear, and took Sanders with her to walk to Hookam’s for a new volume of poetry.

* * * *

The evening of the supper at Carlton House, Sanders began dressing her charges a good four hours before they were due to leave. Her efforts were successful, for neither of them had ever appeared to such advantage. Melissa wore a gown of white silk richly embroidered in blue around the train. It clung to her slender figure gracefully, giving her an almost fairy-like appearance. Her sapphire necklace complimented the blue of the embroidery, and she wore blue-dyed ostrich feathers in her ebony hair. Anne wore a tunic of gold over a petticoat of white satin trimmed with a Spanish net of gold. The tunic was fastened in the front with a diamond broach Mrs. Halcott had insisted on lending her, and a headdress of five ostrich feathers rested on her golden hair.

They knew their toilettes were successful by the look of admiration in their escorts’ eyes. Lord Woolbridge bowed quite low over Melissa’s hand, and Lord Millbank, after looking Anne over with one of his quizzing glasses, lowered it and declared himself satisfied with her appearance.

The men were quite magnificently appareled themselves. Lord Woolbridge wore a blue velvet dress coat embroidered in silver, plain breeches of silk, a white satin waistcoat and the buckled shoes that were de rigueur for court dress. His chestnut hair was neatly dressed, but unpowdered. As fine as he appeared, however, he could not compare with the magnificence of Lord Millbank, who had quite outdone himself. The young lord was clad in a green velvet coat embroidered in gold, a white waistcoat elaborately embroidered in a rainbow of colours, velvet breeches edged in gold lace, white silk clocked stockings, and a heavily powdered wig. Anne felt quite underdressed beside him, and began to feel rather nervous about her coming debut with royalty.

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