The Nobody: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) (4 page)

Chapter IV

I
t was long before Caitlin could fall asleep that night, and she awakened the next morning feeling little refreshed. One of the housemaids had brought her a pot of morning chocolate, but even this agreeable luxury failed to raise Caitlin’s spirits. She sat up in bed, sipping the hot, sweet liquid gloomily.

She was in the suds, and no mistake. The more she considered the previous evening, the worse it appeared to her. It was bad enough to have been snubbed by Lady Elizabeth Delacourt, but Caitlin’s cheeks grew hot when she recalled her own behavior. Leaving the party early—and unescorted! With only a
message
to Lady Selcroft! Oh, she had definitely crossed the line. She had committed an unforgivable solecism, and her unknown assailant had given her her just desserts.

She frowned, unseeing, at the bedpost. It was absurd the way her mind kept returning to that man. No amount of self-scolding succeeded in banishing him from her imagination. Despite the evidence of the bloodstains he had left on her gown, she could not convince herself he was a sinister individual whom she was fortunate to have escaped. It was maddening to think she would probably never discover his identity.

On the other hand, she reminded herself with a shudder, I am excessively glad that he will probably never discover mine!

It would have relieved her considerably to confide the story to a sympathetic listener, but that was out of the question. If any part of the tale came to Lady Lynwood’s ears, Aunt Harriet would probably wash her hands of her hoydenish niece and send her back to Hertfordshire without more ado. And Emily would be scarcely less shocked than Aunt Harriet at Caitlin’s wanton disregard of the proprieties.

Serena might understand—but then a dreadful thought occurred. Caitlin had stupidly seconded Lady Elizabeth’s advice with her own shocking conduct. The next time she saw Serena, she would probably receive a crushing snub. Caitlin had alienated her only friend in London, and she had no one to blame but herself. Her eyes suddenly filled with remorseful tears.

Caitlin set her chocolate cup down, dashed the tears from her eyes, and resolutely scrambled out of bed. If it killed her, she would go down to breakfast with a semblance of her usual cheerful calm. Emily would be longing to confide the story of her presentation. Caitlin hoped fervently that the
ton
had given Emily a warmer welcome last night than her sister had experienced.

She would not wait for Jane to come and help her dress. Besides, she must not grow accustomed to the life of luxury she was leading at Lynwood House. Caitlin had waited on herself all her life, and since she was doubtless returning to Rosemeade in disgrace in the near future, she would probably wait on herself forever. She dressed hastily and dragged a comb through her hair, trying to arrange the copper-colored tresses as Emily had taught her, then grimaced at her reflection. In her white muslin morning dress, she looked like nothing so much as a—a lit candle!

She hurried downstairs, dreading what she might find there; she could not help fearing that sensitive Emily had been slighted as she had been. But when she stepped through the breakfast room door Emily flew out of her chair with a cry of joy.

“Caitie! How I wish you had been with us last night!”

Caitlin laughed, and hugged her younger sister. “Indeed, Emily, I wish I had been,” she replied, thinking Emily could little know how heartfelt that sentiment was. “Did you enjoy yourself? Was it everything you hoped?”

Emily’s soft blue eyes glowed, and her cheeks were more than usually pink. “Oh, it was lovely! Everyone was so kind.”

Caitlin sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. If Emily succeeded in joining their aunt’s world, Caitlin felt she herself could happily return to obscurity in Hertfordshire. “But this is excellent!” she remarked, her eyes twinkling. “If everyone was kind to you, Emily, you must have been a great success.”

This brought a chuckle from Aunt Harriet, sitting at the head of the table with the morning post scattered beside her breakfast plate. “A portionless girl from the country cannot expect to cause a sensation, Caitlin!” she announced, her satisfied expression belying the admonition. “But on the whole, our little Emily did very well. Very well indeed.”

Lady Lynwood was a plump little woman who retained much of her youth’s prettiness, and almost all of its giddiness. With her correspondence and tea things heaped about her like a nest, she reminded Caitlin of a contented little hen, preening and clucking over last night’s success.

Feeling immensely relieved, Caitlin seated herself and shook out her napkin. “There was never a doubt in my mind that Emily had only to be seen to be appreciated. Once we removed her from the backwater and brought her into the world, it was only a matter of time before all of London fell at her feet.”

Her sister’s blond curls danced as she shook her head earnestly. “Caitie, I’m sure it is wicked to say such things, or even to think them.”

“She doesn’t think them,” proclaimed Aunt Harriet with conviction. “Pray do not exaggerate, Caitlin! You are distressing your sister.”

Caitlin laughed, one auburn brow arching quizzically. “Have I put you out of countenance, my dear? Never mind! Levity, you know, was always my besetting sin. Tell me about last night!”

Emily turned beseeching eyes upon her aunt, and Lady Lynwood patted her hand comfortingly. “Emily dear, you conducted yourself with perfect propriety. And. I must say, that silk we chose made up beautifully. A lucky chance we stopped at Lisette’s that day, wasn’t it? I was beginning to think we would never find anything suitable, and although I am as fond of shopping as anyone—or
fonder!
—I really thought I had reached my last possible hour of looking at dress-patterns. Well, we had been doing so for days! They all begin to look alike, and one’s head goes round and round! But that pattern she found gave you just the right touch. What a fortunate circumstance that white becomes you! You cast them all into the shade. Did you see that Lady Mary Ellersbee? Haggish! Her mother was just such another; put her into pastels and she instantly appears ten years older. I don’t know why it should be so, but there it is. And it was clear from the outset Miss Emmons would trip on her train. La! The poor girl was quite out of her element. Gawky!”

Caitlin felt the story was straying rather far from the point. “But, Aunt, do you think Emily will—”

“Oh!” Lady Lynwood threw her hands into the air rapturously. “It could not have been better! So graceful and poised, and she looked such a picture! I was most pleased. And do you know”—she leaned forward impressively—“no less a personage than the
Duke of Severn
told me she was pretty-behaved. Pretty-behaved! His very words, I promise you.”

Caitlin saw that Emily was now quite scarlet, and laughed. “An encomium, indeed!”

“Well, so it was,” said Lady Lynwood happily. Her eyes brightened. “Bless me if I haven’t forgotten to tell you the best part! The most fortunate coincidence! Mrs. Drummond-Burrell was present. Only fancy! The woman always puts me in a quake, but I vow, I never saw her in better humor. And as luck would have it, she spoke to Emily. Well! Emily had no notion who she was, of course, or she might have gone into one of her tongue-tied fits, but by the luckiest chance Emily did not catch her name.”

Lady Lynwood beamed at her nieces triumphantly. “She told me, Emily-love, that she thought you
unexceptionable.
”

The color drained from Emily’s face. She looked as if she were about to faint. “Mrs. Drummond-Burrell said
that
?”

Caitlin choked on her toast, then burst out laughing. “Oh, I am sorry!” she gasped. “But surely such a mild compliment is not enough to overset you, Emily?”

Lady Lynwood was indignant. “Mild compliment? No such thing! I have every hope that we will secure vouchers for Almack’s now. And that is no small feat, let me tell you!”

Caitlin was impressed despite herself. “Vouchers for Almack’s! So Emily is to parade her wares in the marriage mart. I congratulate you, Aunt.”

Emily uttered a faint protest. Lady Lynwood chuckled. “Only vulgar persons refer to Almack’s as the marriage mart, Caitlin. Pray do not do so again! And I have every hope that you are
both
to ‘parade your wares’ there, so you may stop quizzing your sister.”

Caitlin set her teacup down and stared at her aunt. “Now it is you who are quizzing me! I cannot go to Almack’s. I have never even been presented.”

She instantly regretted her remark. Just as she feared, Emily began reproaching herself—for the hundredth time. “Oh, Caitie!” she mourned. “I feel dreadful whenever I think of you giving up your place so that I might be presented. I cannot think it right. I know the family could not afford to present us both, but why should I have been presented rather than you? After all—”

Caitlin pretended to place her hands over her ears, and appealed to the head of the table. “Aunt Harriet, I implore you—! Convince Emily that she is distressing herself to no purpose!”

“Do not place your elbows on the table, Caitlin,” said Lady Lynwood placidly, applying a generous portion of jam to a crumpet. “And, Emily, your sister is quite right! There is no need for these lamentations. You are eighteen, and that is the perfect age for a first Season. I could not convince your mother to let me bring you both out, since Amabel did not wish me to go out of pocket—such stuff! A choice had to be made, and even Caitlin believed that you should be the one chosen.”

“Yes,” agreed Caitlin firmly. “I never stirred the slightest interest among the Hertfordshire beaux, so there seemed little point in exhibiting me to the
ton.
”

Emily cried out again at this, and Lady Lynwood pointed her jam-slathered knife at Caitlin. “Caitlin, really! We are going to exhibit you to the
ton
, and you may stop rolling your eyes at me, for I won’t change my mind! No, how really, Caitlin—there is simply no more to be said on the subject! You are an excessively pretty girl—yes, you are!—and although your hair is very red indeed, I think we need not despair. It is not a
carroty
red, you know, and you are not, thank Heaven, bran-faced—now, whatever have I said to send you into whoops?”

“I beg your pardon!” gasped Caitlin. “Pray continue. Besides my lack of freckles, what else have we to thank heaven for?”

“Your height,” replied Lady Lynwood promptly. “You wear clothes very gracefully, Caitlin, and there is much to be said for an elegant air! Of course there are many gentlemen who dislike tallness in a female, but on the whole, I think it rather an advantage. And as for worrying about Almack’s, pooh! An almond for a parrot! How are people to know you have not been presented? Since you are a bit older, it will be assumed you have been ‘out’ for some time. And so you have! Though only in Hertfordshire, of course.”

Lady Lynwood munched her crumpet reflectively. “We must not become discouraged if you are not an immediate success, my love. In my view, it will be an excellent thing if we do not secure respectable alliances for both of you at once. In fact, I would dislike it excessively! For then I would not be able to invite you next year, you know, and of course it will be
years
before Agnes is old enough. I cannot begin to express to you, my dears, how much I enjoy having you here! I cannot imagine why I never thought of inviting you before.”

Caitlin hid a smile. She had often heard Mama express that very sentiment! Now that Caitlin was better acquainted with her loveable but scatterbrained aunt, she suspected that Lady Lynwood had remembered her nieces’ existence only because she was moped to death, all alone at Lynwood House. The baronness had been widowed two years ago, and now both her sons were from home; James was off enjoying whatever advantages a very limited Grand Tour could provide a young gentleman in these dangerous times, and little Harry was away at school. Aunt Harriet was far too gregarious to live alone, and Caitlin suspected that putting on her blacks and foregoing the pleasures of last year’s Season had been a severe punishment for her widowed aunt.

After breakfast, Lady Lynwood and Emily went on a shopping expedition. Caitlin, declining the treat, escaped to the morning room. She needed to write a long-overdue letter to Mama. She also needed to cudgel her brain to come up with a way to neutralize the effects of her social ostracism. For surely, once Serena cut her acquaintance, Caitlin would find herself on the fringes of Society. She was certain that she, at least, would never cross the sacred threshold of Almack’s. Would Emily be exiled with her? She was staring sadly out the window with the ink drying on her pen when, to her astonishment, Stubbs announced Lady Serena Kilverton.

Chapter V

S
erena rushed impetuously into the morning room, barely waiting until Stubbs had shut the door before casting herself into Caitlin’s arms and giving her a quick, fierce hug. She burst out in her honest, unaffected way with: “Caitlin, you heard her, didn’t you? I shall never forgive Elizabeth. Never!”

Caitlin felt tears of mingled relief and shame springing to her eyes. She had underestimated her friend. She gave a shaky little laugh and tried to speak lightly. “Serena, you goose! I might have known you would fly in the face of anyone’s advice, however well-intentioned it was.”

Serena sniffed disdainfully. “You certainly might have known I would fly in the face of
that
advice, at any rate. Did you think I would tamely agree to distance myself from you? I am not so henhearted!” She tossed her muff and reticule onto a nearby sofa and flung herself into its cushioned depths. “Now, Caitlin, confess: you did not expect to see me today.”

“Well, no,” admitted Caitlin. She sank onto a chair across from her friend, and managed a wavering smile. “But I must say, Serena—I am very glad to see you!”

Serena’s eyes snapped dangerously. Her face was too pretty and mischievous to achieve malevolence, but she did acquire something like the aspect of a fierce kitten. “That—that
shrew
! How could you believe I would listen to her? Really, Caitlin, I don’t know what you deserve!”

“I would not have blamed you for cutting the connection, so do not eat me!” Caitlin found she could not meet her friend’s gaze and looked down at her hands, forcing her words past a sudden constriction in her throat. “It’s all very well to say you cannot forgive Lady Elizabeth, but according to her own lights she was quite right. I’m sure she meant nothing but kindness in warning you away.”

“Elizabeth is an ill-natured harpy!” declared Serena, bouncing indignantly upright on the sofa. “And I won’t have you defending her!”

Caitlin’s cheeks grew hot. “But my behavior last night was enough to give any well-bred person a disgust of me. I walked off without a word to anyone—left your mother a
message
—oh, I am covered with shame whenever I think of it!”

“Nonsense. You behaved beautifully until Elizabeth uttered those unhandsome remarks. And you needn’t tell me you overheard them by accident!”

“Thank you,” said Caitlin, with difficulty. “But really, Serena, you must not encourage me in such shocking impropriety! I don’t wonder at it that Lady Elizabeth thought me a vulgar upstart. After all, she is the Lady Elizabeth Delacourt, and I am the veriest nobody.”

Serena’s eyes flashed. “Fiddle! You are a niece of Lady Lynwood and cousin to Baron Lynwood. A nobody, indeed! I defy anyone to call you so in my presence!”

Warmhearted Serena was clearly ready to do battle for her friend. Caitlin was touched. Trying for a lighter note, she responded, “What a pity I did not stay on the terrace long enough to hear your response to Lady Elizabeth’s amiable warnings! Once you had proved you were as rag-mannered as I, I would have been quite comfortable again.”

Serena giggled. “Well, she is enough to try the patience of a saint! I do wish Richard had offered for Maria Carleton, or Anne Markham. Heaven knows they threw out enough lures! And although poor Maria is sadly fat, and Anne has more hair than wit, at least they are both pleasant and kind.”

This puzzled Caitlin. “I don’t mean to sound vulgarly inquisitive, Serena, but why did your brother offer for Lady Elizabeth? Is it not a question of—well, of love?”

Serena pulled a face. “With Miss Prunes and Prisms? Love! Certainly not.” Seeing Caitlin’s bewildered expression, Serena burst out laughing. “Oh, Caitlin! I wish you would pop on your bonnet and walk with me. I have been having the most
unchristian
thoughts about my future sister-in-law, and until today there was not a soul I could tell!”

Caitlin assumed an air of exaggerated interest. “How excessively fortunate that she behaved scaly to me!”

Serena’s eyes danced. “Yes, indeed! I can unburden myself to someone at last! But not here—I always have the most dreadful suspicion that Stubbs is listening at the door.”

Soon the two girls were walking briskly down Half Moon Street. Caitlin, with a newborn appreciation for propriety, rather halfheartedly suggested that they ask Jane to follow in their wake, but Serena spurned this poor-spirited suggestion. So Caitlin allowed herself to be persuaded that such a precaution was unnecessary if the two girls walked only as far as the Green Park. The morning was sunny, but a spanking breeze rattled their bonnets as they walked.

“Now then—where was I?” Serena demanded.

Caitlin smiled. “You were about to explain why your brother offered for Lady Elizabeth, I believe.”

Serena tucked a hand confidingly into Caitlin’s elbow. “Yes, but if you knew our family’s situation, you wouldn’t wonder at it. My unfortunate brother! He is Papa’s only son, you know, and must marry as soon as he may. Papa—” Serena hesitated, and her voice softened. “Papa isn’t well. I daresay you have wondered why Mama and I go alone to parties, but he insists we not deprive ourselves of pleasure merely because he isn’t strong enough to join us. Papa suffered an attack several years ago that almost carried him off. His health has been declining again of late, and Richard is determined to ease Papa’s mind by setting up his nursery as soon as possible. It will do poor Papa a world of good to see Richard safely married before he—well, before—”

Caitlin nodded sympathetically, and Serena continued. “It is of the first importance to the family that the line continue through Richard, you see. And the sooner the better! The entire Selcroft fortune goes with the title, and as things stand if anything happened to Richard both the title and the fortune would go to Papa’s brother Oswald—a dreadful fellow, I promise you! He and Papa have been at odds for as long as I can remember, and it would be nothing short of a calamity to see Oswald Kilverton in Papa’s shoes. The more so because he has been so maddeningly sure it would come to him one day! He made ducks and drakes of his own fortune, I believe, thinking the family inheritance would eventually be his.”

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. “An optimistic gentleman!” she observed. “It is natural to assume one will inherit a title from a parent, but from a brother—?”

A spurt of laughter escaped Serena. “Oh! You must understand that Uncle Oswald is many years younger than Papa—he is the child of my grandpapa’s second wife. And Papa did marry rather late in life, you know, and then my parents were married years and years before Richard arrived. Papa had quite given up hope! So you see, all that time it seemed perfectly reasonable to suppose my father’s half brother would succeed to the title—and, of course, the fortune.”

“Do you mean to tell me your uncle has lived his entire life eagerly anticipating your father’s demise?” Caitlin demanded, astonished. “He sounds positively ghoulish!”

Serena gave a little skip, and pulled her hands free so she could clap them. “Excellent, Caitlin!
Ghoulish
is an extremely apt description of my deplorable Uncle Oswald! A smoothtongued, cold-blooded scoundrel, in fact! There is not much one would put beyond him.”

Caitlin protested this startling exaggeration, but Serena peeped up from beneath the brim of her bonnet, her eyes dancing. “You may ask anyone. He is a most reprehensible character, but so fascinating! I am afraid he is sadly extravagant, too. Isn’t it shocking? As near as anyone can tell, his fortune is nearly all gone and the estate he inherited from my grandfather is mortgaged to the hilt. They say every family has at least one dirty dish! Uncle Oswald is ours.”

Caitlin pondered this information. “Your brother’s arrival must have been a severe blow to your uncle.”

“Oh, monstrous!” agreed Serena cheerfully. “I am not supposed to know this, but I believe Uncle Oswald was so certain he would one day be the Earl of Selcroft, he lived for years by borrowing against his expectations. You may imagine the row that ensued when that was discovered! At any rate, he and my father could not be more different from one another, and I am afraid there is no love lost between them. Since Richard is the only person standing between my uncle and the title, Papa would be extremely glad to see Richard married.”

This seemed eminently reasonable to Caitlin. The girls slowed their pace as they entered the park and headed down a path. The park seemed very full of nursemaids, and most were shepherding excessively noisy children. The girls walked carefully, mindful that one of the park’s attractions was a small herd of dairy cattle.

“Is your brother much older than you?” asked Caitlin, lowering her voice as they passed an infant sleeping in a perambulator.

“A little more than seven years,” Serena replied. “Richard is eight-and-twenty now. He has been determinedly seeking a bride for the past three Seasons—and very diverting it has been!” She gave a spirited description of the various caps that had been set at her brother, and the discomfiture of the matchmaking mamas when it became clear that Lord Kilverton fancied no female above another.

“For you must know, Caitlin, my brother is held to be the most shocking flirt! He never meant to encourage anyone’s expectations, but of course he is such a matrimonial prize that the tongues began to wag if he so much as waltzed with a girl. It was excessively uncomfortable for him. And the end of it was, he couldn’t find any female he
particularly
liked. I promise you, under the circumstances he is blessing his good fortune to have secured an alliance with Arnsford’s eldest.”

Caitlin bit back a smile at Serena’s disgruntled expression. “You don’t agree that he should be blessing his good fortune?”

Serena shook her head dolefully. “I cannot rejoice, however hard I try! Although I seem to be alone in my dismay. My parents are
aux anges
, and the betrothal caused great satisfaction among the
ton.
If you had come to town only a few weeks earlier, you would have seen that for yourself. It was quite a seven-day wonder! Everyone except myself seems to believe it is an ideal match.”

Caitlin laughed. “Then let us hope they are right. Perhaps Lady Elizabeth is perfectly amiable once one comes to know her.”

Serena looked skeptical. “I fancy that is not how the world judges these matters. If she were the worst harridan imaginable, people would still congratulate my brother! By allying himself to Lady Elizabeth, he is establishing a connection with an extremely exalted branch of the peerage, you know. Both families will be forever after connected to nearly every great house in England. And I daresay Lady Elizabeth’s personal fortune, once the Selcroft fortune is added to it, will make Richard one of the wealthiest men in Europe. One is not supposed to mention such matters, of course—so silly, when one knows that is
exactly
what everyone is thinking when they call it a ‘great match’!”

Caitlin felt a tug of sympathy, but thought she ought not to encourage Serena’s pessimism. “It may be that they are well-matched in other areas, too. We must wish them the best, Serena, and hope they will be happy together.”

“Yes, of course,” said Serena, with a marked lack of enthusiasm. “If they are not, it will not be Richard’s fault. I must say, even Elizabeth seems to realize that. She has been more puffed up than ever lately—now that she has secured the hand of one of the most sought-after prizes on the marriage mart! At five-and-twenty, even a duke’s daughter can hardly expect to do better.”

Caitlin laughed out loud. “I make every allowance for the fondness of a sister, Serena, but do try for a
little
even-handedness! You know I did not enjoy my own encounter with Lady Elizabeth, but to do her justice, I believe she has more to recommend her than fortune and breeding. She is a good-looking woman, do you not think? And she will know exactly how to manage a large estate. Your brother’s home will be well-run, his guests flawlessly entertained, and his wife will never cause him any embarrassment. There is much to be said for that.”

Serena sniffed. “Is there? It sounds very dull.”

“Well, such a marriage would not suit everyone,” conceded Caitlin. “But many persons feel that an unexciting but well-ordered life is actually
preferable
to a love match. Perhaps your brother is among them. If Lord Kilverton is not in love with any particular lady, and yet is determined to marry, I believe he has done very well for himself.”

It was clear that Serena’s opinions on the subject were not easily swayed. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at Caitlin’s portrait of domestic serenity. “Pooh! Our parents enjoy a warm regard for one another, and I feel sure Richard hoped to find someone he could love.”

“And who are we, pray, to say that he cannot love Lady Elizabeth? You know, Serena, it is not unusual for a sister to find her brother’s choice unfathomable. In fact, sisters-in-law frequently have little in common. That does not mean, however, that the man is unhappy in his choice.”

Serena looked thoughtful. Then her troubled expression lightened a little. “You are right!” she exclaimed. “Why, I can think of a dozen examples among my own acquaintance.”

“There, then!” cried Caitlin, triumphant. “I refuse to let you despair.”

Serena’s eyes twinkled. “I will be delighted to be proved wrong, you know. I hope Richard will be delirious with joy on his wedding day, and live in untrammeled bliss forever after. But between ourselves, Caitlin—I would not wager a groat on it!”

They were brought up short by a toddler who ran, shrieking, after a ball and collided with Serena’s legs. Serena disentangled herself and announced that she had had quite enough of the Green Park for the moment. “I say, Caitlin,” she said her eyes brightening, “I saw the loveliest bonnet the other day. Do walk as far as Curzon Street with me and let me show it to you—why, whatever is the matter?”

At the mention of Curzon Street, Caitlin had turned the, most extraordinary shade of pink. “Nothing!” she stammered hastily. “But I think I had rather not—just now!” And using the excuse of her unfinished letter, she succeeded in returning to Lynwood House without any dangerous detours.