Wilful Impropriety (36 page)

Mr. Martin added, all kindness, “These rules, Miss Clement, are in the interests of your comfort, that you needn’t worry about your reputation in the slightest respect by making some unwitting error.”

Leah wondered who would be so anxious to ruin her reputation that she had to constantly be on guard for offers of punch, but looking at Miss Hammond, she saw this was something to be taken very seriously.

It might be serious enough to explain why she had seen so little outside this county, and why she had never before been taken to London.

Her busk cut into the top of her right thigh, right through her skirts. She’d have a bruise, tonight, when it came off.

“All right,” she said. “Then when he comes, I’ll ask him.”

•   •   •

Engagements for one dance should not be made while the present dance is yet in progress. Never attempt to take a place in a dance which has been previously engaged.

—
Routledge

•   •   •

Cousin William arrived four evenings later, punctual to the minute, and Leah nearly slipped on the stairs in her hurry to get into her place in the parlor before he could get out of the carriage and be announced.

(She had visited Miss Hammond’s room to let her give the final word over her dress. The pearl earrings, with no cameo necklace, were deemed most suitable—a young lady of taste, apparently, needed no other adornment.

“Won’t you come with me?” she’d asked Miss Hammond. “You’re my companion, I should have you with me.”

Miss Hammond had tried a smile, and pinned closed the wire of Leah’s left earring before she handed it back.

“That’s not the sort of thing for which I’m required,” she said.

The pearls were heavy, somehow; they ached in Leah’s ears.)

She skittered for her place in as ladylike a manner as she could, under her mother’s glare.

“Sir William Foster,” Stevens announced, as soon as Leah was settled.

Leah smoothed her skirt for an excuse to wipe the dampness off her palms.

Reg shifted his weight back onto his heels, with one creak of the floorboards, and sighed.

William came in with his hat still tucked under his arm, his shoulders pushed so far back that he seemed about to tip over.

She remembered him from the Christmas her family had been invited to celebrate in Surrey. He was taller now, and seemed slightly underfed, and had sharp features in a face that would probably grow to be respectable.

(They had the same nose, she thought.)

He bowed stiffly, then stood up and looked at Mama as if unsure how formal to be.

“It’s a pleasure to see you . . . Aunt?” he ventured finally.

He flinched as he spoke. Maybe he’d been suffering under a dancing master, too.

“William,” said Mama, coming forward and taking his hands. “It’s such a pleasure to see you. I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“Of course, thank you.”

“Reg has been so looking forward to seeing you,” she said, without looking at Reg, “and of course Leah has been hoping all day for a glimpse of her cousin. You know how fond of you she’s always been.”

So, they weren’t even waiting a full day before the hints began.

Leah held her breath, worked on her smallest, blankest smile. It fell apart; her lips were dry, and sticking to her teeth.

It seemed to take a moment to sink in (Mama was still going on about refreshment and Stevens taking his things and wouldn’t he care for a seat), but then William looked over at Leah, his expression too polite to be disgusted, but trying its hardest.

Leah’s stomach sank.

•   •   •

In the drawing room, Cousin William had to be refreshed and given a brandy, and had to relate to Father and Reg the quality of hunting back at home, and to Mama the quality of company, which meant that for nearly an hour Leah could get away with sitting silently on the sofa beside Mama, twisting her hands in her lap and trying to determine the best moment for escape.

(She had picked up her manual of etiquette on her way inside, and it sat on her lap, if she dared to ignore the guest.)

“And what entertainments are to be had at the Hall this time of year?” Mama was asking.

“Not many,” said William, looking into his brandy.

He didn’t elaborate, and Leah nearly laughed at Mama’s face as she struggled for a response.

“That must be unfortunate for your mother and sister. I know how fond they are of good company.”

“Mother and Lily are, yes,” he said finally.

“And we look forward to seeing all of you,” said Mama. “How do you find the Season?”

“I don’t,” he said. “Indifferent health has kept me at home the last two springs.”

If nothing else came of this, Leah could at least take some comfort that peevishness ran in the family.

“I see,” said Mama.

It was cool enough that William glanced up and seemed to cast about for a way to save the sentiment.

“They pass their best wishes to Leah,” he said, “and look forward to seeing her during the Season.”

“Oh, so do we,” said Reg. “She’s getting all the training of a diplomat headed for another continent. It’s great fun to watch her trying.”

William’s mouth thinned, and he glanced at Leah and then at Reg. “Charming.”

Leah’s cheeks blazed.

She opened the book, just for something else to look at besides his disapproving face. It had been nearly an hour; family honor had to be satisfied by now. Even being lectured by the manual had to be better than this.

Three pages later, she closed the book again.

“Please excuse me,” she said, standing up. “I have a headache.”

Mama followed her, and caught her at the doorway.

“Leah,” she said, “this is extremely rude. I expected better of you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mama,” said Leah, “you’ve made it very clear exactly what you expect. Goodnight.”

On her way upstairs, she told Annabelle to send for Miss Hammond, on an urgent matter.

•   •   •

As soon as Miss Hammond arrived, Leah dropped the open book on her bed and pointed at it.

“It says here I can’t decline an invitation to dance,” Leah said, voice shaking.

Miss Hammond picked up the book. (She always examined facts; she never got carried away.)

“You mean at a private ball,” she said, closing the book. “That’s correct.”

Leah planted her hands on her hips. “But if he’s a stranger, can’t I make some excuse? Strangers can’t feed me; surely, then, they’re not allowed to put their hand on my waist or just—or just impose that way.’’

She was shaking with anger.

“Unfortunately, that’s not the case.” Miss Hammond sighed. “At a private ball, the hostess has chosen all present; it goes without saying that everyone is of impeccable character and equal to your time in a dance.”

She made a face that mirrored Leah’s feelings on the matter. Leah wondered how many men Miss Hammond didn’t care for had put their hands on her waist.

It was a terrible thought.

Leah shook her head, made fists at her sides. “I don’t understand it. First Cousin William is lured in, and then I’m told I have to be pleasant and accommodating to strangers all Season long! It should be one way or the other—either I should be allowed to make my own choices, or William and Mama should just settle arrangements, and then at least I won’t have to pay attention to Mr. Martin anymore.”

She sank onto the bed, tried to catch her breath.

Miss Hammond sat beside Leah. “What’s wrong with Mr. Martin?”

His smile worries me, Leah wanted to say, but it sounded foolish, and she didn’t want Miss Hammond to think she was inventing in her anger.

“Nothing,” said Leah. “Except that he keeps asking me to do what I cannot do.”

Miss Hammond smiled, the candlelight flickering across her face. “You’ll learn, Leah, I’m sure—you have the potential to be a very passionate dancer, if you apply yourself, quite good enough for your cousin or anyone else.”

“My pins are too tight,” said Leah.

For a moment, Miss Hammond lifted her fingers as if to reach out and touch Leah’s hair herself.

Leah sat perfectly still, held her breath.

Then Miss Hammond got up and rang for Annabelle.

“The good news,” said Miss Hammond, “is that, at private balls, if any man is worth having, you have filled twenty minutes, and if not, you can at least beg off afterward and never have to acknowledge him again. That’s a lady’s right.”

It seemed an awfully small one, but Leah supposed she would have to make use of what she had.

“And at public assemblies, you can refer any unseemly gentleman to me,” said Miss Hammond, then smiled so that her nose wrinkled slightly. “I am not afraid to play the dragon for you.”

Leah closed her eyes as the door shut, to hold on to the smile a little longer, before night sank in.

•   •   •

Never lower the intellectual standard of your conversation in addressing ladies. Pay them the compliment of seeming to consider them capable of an equal understanding with gentlemen.

—Wells

•   •   •

When Leah arrived in the ballroom for her next lesson, William was waiting.

He stood at one of the windows, with his hands clasped behind his back like a parson, and a furrow between his eyes where he was squinting against the sun.

Why did it make Leah so low, just to look at him this way?

“Good afternoon,” he said without moving.

She said, “Apologies if my mother sent you.”

From behind her, Stevens announced, “Mr. Martin for Miss Clement,” (Leah jumped), and a moment later Mr. Martin was swanning into the room with a grin for them both.

“Excellent,” he said. “Furnishing your own partners, even!”

“William Foster,” William said, frowning, and Mr. Martin grinned and bowed and finished the introduction, and then without a pause he said, “With both of you here we can practice some of the round dances after we attempt the waltz. Miss Clement applies herself,” he told William, “but round dances can get the best of any lady unless she has a mind for figures.”

Leah flinched.

“I see,” said William.

Leah said, “I’m sure Cousin William doesn’t intend to stay.”

William turned to look at her. The furrow was still there. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

“Wouldn’t Reg come looking for you?”

His lips thinned. “I expect so.”

(It was said the same way he had said, “Charming,” when Reg had crowed about her tutelage.

Interesting, thought Leah.)

But just as William glanced at her and moved to leave, Miss Hammond appeared at the doorway.

She smiled and nodded to Mr. Martin, glanced at Leah, and turned at last to William.

“Miss Hammond, I presume,” said William. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She curtseyed.

“I wish you a pleasant lesson,” he said.

Miss Hammond’s eyes went wide, and she said in that tone she reserved for company, “Oh, can’t you stay?”

“My cousin would rather not, I think.”

“It’s no trouble,” William said.

Leah scowled.

Mr. Martin cleared his throat. “Well, if someone must break this stalemate, I would treasure a fourth. If we may begin?”

Miss Hammond gave Leah a reproving look.

Leah folded her hands, gave the smile Mama had taught her was neither rude nor enthusiastic.

“Of course, Mr. Martin.”

Reg passed by the doorway; he was dressed for riding, and as he crossed the open space he made a face at Mr. Martin’s back, and fled.

“Truly, you may go with him, if you’d rather,” said Leah, under her breath. “It will be no offense.”

“It is no offense to stay,” William said. “I’m not particularly fond of hunting.”

It was an unusual thing for a gentleman to admit. (Father was very clear that a gentleman who didn’t care for hunting was a gentleman deficient, though perhaps cousin William was rich enough that he could afford whatever pastime he chose.)

Mr. Martin had taken his place in the center of the room, and he turned to face them, grinning.

“Right. Let us begin the waltz!”

(The waltz; the dance that put a young lady full in the arms of some young man she could not refuse.

Leah pressed her hands closer together.)

Mr. Martin held out his arm with a bow, and Miss Hammond, blushing, and with a glance over her shoulder to Leah, took it.

She was embarrassed, Leah thought; her cheeks were pink, just at the place they disappeared under the plaits of her hair.