The Perfect Waltz (17 page)

He had a sudden vision of the children running about so happily in the park and asked, “So, you take them out for walks?”

She shook her head emphatically. “No, for there are too many temptations outside, and many of these girls will backslide at the smallest opportunity. We do not allow them out until we are certain they are morally strong and prepared to resist temptation. The world is full of unscrupulous people who will prey on unprotected and gullible young females.”

Sebastian thought of his sisters and nodded in heartfelt agreement. Lady Elinore’s passion to care for these girls touched him. He was certain that with a little encouragement, she would redirect that compassion toward his sisters. Lord knows they needed someone, and they would have nothing to do with him. And Lady Elinore was that impossible combination, a high-bred lady of the aristocracy who understood how harsh and terrible the world could be.

She was no fragile silken elf, created purely for joy.

Lady Elinore nodded briskly. “I’m glad you approve. Now, shall we return to see if the board has made a decision about your offer?”

Sebastian agreed. The board had decided the moment he’d named a sum, he thought cynically. But the time he’d spent being shown around the institution had not been wasted. Apart from satisfying his curiosity, he fancied he was slowly winning Lady Elinore over. She had been quite willing to dance with him or go for a drive in the park whenever asked, but she’d remained coolly reserved and formal, until now. Explaining the program, she’d become almost friendly.

He still had no idea what she thought of him, but one thing was clear: she did not have a very high opinion of men.

Sebastian was not a man who gave up when he encountered an obstacle. He felt sure that if he tried hard enough, he would eventually win Lady Elinore’s respect and esteem. That was as much as he wanted. He didn’t want a wife who would smother him with emotional demands. He was marrying for practical reasons.

He didn’t mind her eccentricity, as long as she kept it within bounds and remained an accepted part of the ton. He even rather liked it, liked the way she stuck to her beliefs. And if the care of poor orphan girls was her passion in life, it could also be the chink in her defenses.

She would not be able to resist his offer of marriage, when it came, knowing that as his wife, she would have total sway over the running of the orphan asylum and could institute Rational Principles to her heart’s content.

He might even name it after her. It would make a nice unconventional wedding present: The Lady Elinore Reyne Institution for Indigent Girls.

 
Giles gave a crack of laughter. “The Lady Elinore Reyne Institution for Indigent Girls? You wild, romantic dog, you! What a wedding gift! After this, all the ladies of the ton will be clamoring for their own personal orphanage!”

Sebastian gave him an austere look. “It is the sort of gift Lady Elinore would appreciate.”

Giles gave a rueful laugh. “You are no doubt correct. She is certainly an unusual creature.”

Sebastian frowned. “I need to speed things up, get this courtship over and done with. Do you think I should send her flowers or something? As a thank-you for her company today? A sort of courtship gesture.”

Giles shook his head. “No, she says flowers are not Rational.”

Sebastian raised his brows. “How do you kn—”

“Has she met the girls yet?” Giles interrupted.

“No, not yet.”

“Then what are you waiting for? They’re the reason for all this.”

Sebastian hesitated. “I’m not so sure the girls are ready for social interaction.”

“From what you’ve told me, they’re meeting the Merridews every second moment. If that’s not social interaction, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right. I shall arrange something immediately.” He thought for a moment. “I shall send Lady Elinore a note and invite her on an outing.”

“To where?”

Sebastian shrugged. “You know London better than I. You suggest a place.”

Giles shook his head, laughing. “Oh, no. You won’t make me responsible. Why not tell Lady Elinore you’d like to take her and your sisters somewhere and ask her for a suggestion. She’s a Londoner and presumably knows the sort of thing young girls would find amusing.”

“Excellent idea, Giles. I shall send her a note at once.”

 
“It was Sir Hans Sloane who we have to thank for this splendid opportunity,” Lady Elinore explained. “He was a physician, naturalist, and collector, particularly of botanical specimens, and when he died, some sixty-five years ago, he bequeathed some seventy-one thousand objects, a library, and herbarium, to King George II—he was the grandfather of our regent—for the nation.”

She looked at Cassie and Dorie expectantly. They said nothing. Cassie darted a long-suffering look at Sebastian.

“Very interesting,” Sebastian supplied.

“Yes, it’s fascinating,” Lady Elinore enthused. “They appointed trustees to see that his will was carried out, and after a great deal of debate, an Act of Parliament established the British Museum.” She gestured to the edifice. “The foremost monument to rational pursuits in the world.”

“Hmm,” Sebastian nodded. “Most impressive.”

“To my mind the botanical exhibits are the most interesting, so we shall start with them,” said Lady Elinore. “You study botany, I presume, girls?”

“No,” Cassie said baldly.

Lady Elinore sniffed. “I suppose you do watercolors and embroidery and Italian and music. I have nothing against the last two—it is Rational to learn another language, and while my late mother did not approve of music, I must say I have a weakness for it, myself.”

“No,” Cassie said again.

Lady Elinore was nonplussed. “Oh. Well, let us begin our botanical studies here. Classification is the most exciting science. The founder of modern botanical study was, oddly enough, a Swede, Dr. Carolus Linnaeus, a medical physician who—”

“Why is it odd?” Cassie interrupted.

“Because, Cassandra, he was not English, and it is not polite for young ladies to interrupt their seniors,” Lady Elinore explained kindly. “Dr. Linnaeus died forty years ago, after developing a system for examining and classifying the natural world. It was called the
Systema Naturae,
which is Latin. After his death, his papers came to England, and a number of his students also came to England. One traveled, for example, on one of the voyages of Captain James Cook—you will have heard of him, I hope.”

“No,” said Cassie. “Is he dead, too?”

“Yes,” Lady Elinore responded, oblivious of irony. “He died not long after Dr. Linnaeus, I believe, nearly forty years ago.”

“Is everyone in the British Museum dead?” Cassie asked.

Lady Elinore looked perplexed, but only for a moment. “Well, yes, of course. Except for the people who work here and the visitors, of course. Now, let us view the botanical exhibition. The most marvelous plants have been collected.”

“Dead plants?”

“Yes, Cassandra, of course. Plants cannot be properly preserved if they are living, can they? And these plants come from all over the world.”

“So they will be all brown, not green.”

“Yes.”

“My friend Grace said there are Egyptian mummies here and big marble statues that Lord Elgin brought from Greece. She said they were broken, but very interesting.”

Lady Elinore compressed her lips, declared, “Such things are not proper for young girls to view,” and marched with a firm tread toward the botanical section.

Cassie turned to Sebastian and gave him a long, silent look.

He gave her an equally silent response through narrowed eyes, and after a moment she shrugged her shoulders and stomped after Lady Elinore, towing Dorie with her. As a demonstration of martyred dumb insolence it was masterly, but Sebastian could not find it in himself to be annoyed with her. His contentious little sister was doing quite well, given the dreary nature of the outing.

Why on earth had Lady Elinore chosen this place for an outing?

The answer came at the end of another hour of viewing pressed, brown vegetation. “You may be wondering how I know so much about the museum and all its exhibits.”

“No,” muttered Cassie under her breath.

Luckily Lady Elinore didn’t hear her. She continued, “My late mother used to bring me here once a month. It was the special thing we did together, as mother and daughter.” She smiled at the girls. “My mother, Lady Ennismore, was a famous educator and writer, you see. She was always extremely busy, giving lectures or having meetings or working. I never saw much of her when I was your age. But she always made time for this.” She glanced around the big, echoing building with a fond expression. “I used to look forward to the hour we spent here, every month, just Mother and me. This place is almost like home to me.”

Cassie stared at her. “That’s the only time you saw your mother alone?”

Lady Elinore gave a little shake of her head and said in gentle reproof, “When one’s mother is famous and has A Calling, one must make sacrifices. I am proud to be Lady Ennismore’s daughter. I was bred to carry on her work.”

There was a short, uncomfortable silence.

“I can see how you could become fond of this place then,” Sebastian said at last. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

“Oh, but we haven’t nearly finished.”

Cassie directed a silent glower in his direction. She was running out of her small store of acceptable behavior, he realized. Her momentary sympathy for Lady Elinore wouldn’t last. He needed to get her home before she did something outrageous.

“I think the girls have taken in as much botany as they can for one day. I think it is time to return home for some refreshments.”

“Very well,” Lady Elinore agreed. “Though there is a great deal more to see. But a cup of tea would be most welcome.”

Sebastian ushered them quickly to the carriage. As Cassie climbed in to take her seat, he said quietly, “You have been very good today, Cassie. If it continues, I shall try to think of a treat for you and Dorie.”

Unfortunately, Lady Elinore overheard. “A treat? I know the very thing. I shall give you both a copy of my mother’s
Improving Tales for Young Girls.
”

Sebastian could tell by the rolling eyes that Cassie had heard quite enough of Lady Ennismore’s ideas for education. He held his breath and stared at Cassie, conveying a silent message that if she thanked Lady Elinore graciously, he would indeed think of a very special treat. And if not . . .

Cassie gave him a cool look and said with paralyzing politeness, “Thank you, Lady Elinore. I’m sure the tales will be as fascinating as your botanical lectures.”

To Sebastian’s gratitude, Lady Elinore missed the irony. His gratitude did not last long, though, for Lady Elinore was moved by the compliment to wax lyrical about the collection of botanical specimens once more.

Cassie stood it for five minutes, then announced in a clear voice, “Lady Elinore, did you know I wear a knife strapped to my thigh?” She began to lift her skirt to show it.

“That’s enough, Cassie,” Sebastian thundered. He itched to throttle her. It was the kind of statement that had caused several of their erstwhile governesses to faint, particularly when she proceeded to pull up her dress, shamelessly baring a naked thigh in the process, and demonstrated how sharp the knife was.

Cassie eyed him cautiously and left her skirt where it was, thankfully, still decent.

“I’m sorry, Lady Elinore,” he began to apologize, but stopped when he saw she was in no danger of fainting. She peered interestedly at the lump outlined by the muslin under Cassie’s hand. She seemed utterly unshocked by Cassie’s statement.

This was why he was courting her, he recalled. If ever she proved that she would be able to cope with Cassie’s outrageousness, it would be now.

She leaned forward and said to Cassie, “Isn’t it inconvenient, having to reach down under all those petticoats to get it?” There was not a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice.

Cassie frowned. It was not the reaction she’d hoped for. She glanced suspiciously at Sebastian, as if suspecting a plot. Sebastian kept his face as blank as he could. Lady Elinore looked as if she could handle things, and he judged it better to stay out of it.

Cassie decided to call Lady Elinore’s bluff. “No, I can get it easily. See?” She reached under the skirt and pulled out the knife, brandishing it fiercely. The blade glinted in the afternoon light.

Lady Elinore nodded. “Yes, a little cumbersome, but a very adequate defense. It looks nice and sharp.” She reached out and took it from Cassie’s surprised hand, tested the blade in an expert manner, and handed it back. “Yes, very good. A knife is useless unless it’s sharp.” She turned to Dorie, smiling, and said, “And Dorie, do you also have a knife?”

“No!” Cassie and Sebastian exclaimed in horrified unison. Sebastian added, “Why the devil would she?”

Lady Elinore looked at their shocked faces in some surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed yours was an enlightened family.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sebastian asked.

“Oh, my mother was a very strong advocate for ladies to carry means of their own defense.”

“Means of their own defense?”

She nodded and explained in a composed manner, “There is a great deal of violence in this world, and females must look to their own defense, for males are driven by passions that are easily inflamed—as a sex, they are prone to violence—and cannot always be relied upon to be benevolent.”

Indignant at the slur on his gender, Sebastian said sarcastically, “So I suppose you also carry a knife strapped to your thigh.”

“Oh, no. As I said, such a large knife would be too unwieldy for me. I carry this.” And she drew from the seam down the front of her bodice a long, pointed hatpin. She smiled kindly at Cassie. “Just as sharp and much more convenient to hand. All of my gowns, day or evening wear, are constructed to carry one. If I am going farther abroad, traveling or venturing into less salubrious neighborhoods, I carry a small pistol as well.”