With This Ring (17 page)

Papa, they are all dying now, and
it is quite hopeless. Vulgar men prey on the soldiers, and make a
mock of their death struggles. I have seen such cruelty today that
it will probably change my life.
“It was as usual, Papa,” she
said after a long pause. “I … I think I will not be returning,
though.”

His vague look was replaced for the
briefest moment by a glance of deepest concern, followed by an
expression unfamiliar to her. Was it regret? She could not
tell.

“
Daughter, do let me tell you now
while it is … quiet, how proud I am that you have done this
thing.” He said it quickly, as though afraid to be found out with
an opinion.

It was a rare compliment, and filled
her with unexpected pleasure. “I did so little, Papa,” she said,
apology high in her voice.

Another look around. He moved
himself closer along the sofa. “You did more than any of us, my
dear.” He leaned closer to take her hand. “I do not know a man in
London prouder of a daughter than I am.”

“
Humphrey, for once I am entirely in
agreement with you!”

He started, and released her hand.
“Yes, my dear,” he said, turning to look at his wife in the
doorway.

Kitty stood beside her, magnificent
in pale blue. Lydia looked closer. I wonder if she knows she has
forgotten her petticoat, she almost said, then changed her mind. I
suppose it is all the crack to appear half naked at these
functions, and I am merely out of step, she thought.

“
Kitty
is
enough to make any
father proud,” Mama said.

Papa cleared his throat. “Actually,
I was … I meant … Yes, my dear, she is
lovely.”

Poor Papa, Lydia thought. And poor
Kitty, if I do not warn her. “You need to know something,” she said
as she went to her mother and sister. “Kitty dear, it distresses me
to tell you this, but do have a care around some of the young men
of the ton.”

Kitty stared at her blankly.
“Whatever are you blathering about, Lydia?” she asked. “Do come out
with whatever maggot has got into your brain.” She glanced at the
clock on the mantelpiece. “I am certain we do not have time for
nonsense.” She looked at her mother for confirmation, then back to
Lydia. “We have already waited for you to return from that …
that sewer where you insist on spending your days.”

“
And we would not have waited,
except that these invitations came especially from General Picton
himself, particularly to you!” Mama reminded her.

“
I know, Mama, and I am sorry for
any trouble.” Lydia considered all of Kitty’s sensibilities, and
condensed her story into several sentences—leaving out Major Reed’s
impulsive reaction—as Kitty frowned at her and Mama listened, her
face a study in irritation. Well, you should be angry, Mama, she
thought as she finished. I know I would not wish the daughter I
have so many hopes for exposed to such creatures. “I thought you
would wish to be warned away from association with such people,”
she concluded, looking to her father for support.

To her amazement, Kitty laughed.
“Lydia, you goose! That Lindsey you speak of is Lord Lindsey.” She
dimpled prettily. “Or more properly, I should call him Viscount
Lindsey. Yes, his father is Lord Walsingham.”

“
More shame then,” Lydia said
quietly. “When I think of the trouble his father has gone to,
preparing his report on medical conditions, I could shudder that
his son ….”

“
Lydia, this is quite enough!” Mama
said. “Lord Lindsey is all the rage this Season. See, you are
wounding Kitty. How could you do that?”

She stared at her sister, who had
begun to pout. Oh, Lord, she thought in disgust, in another moment
there will be tears and a scene. I do not understand these people I
am related to. She tried again. “Kitty, I’m only warning you.
Probably the largest beast in this whole affair is someone called
Allsuch. The whole wretched bet was his idea. And that other man,
the one with the handkerchief and the languid air … I cannot
think him fit company for demons.”

Kitty drew herself up to her full
height and glared at Lydia. “Lord Allsuch.” She said the words
distinctly, biting them off as Mama would have. “He is my
particular friend. Indeed, Lydia, I have high hopes of him, so do
keep your silly scruples to yourself.”

Lydia gasped, as though her sister
had struck her. She took Kitty by the shoulders. “Katherine Elaine,
they watched a man die for entertainment! How can
you ….”

Kitty wrenched herself away and
turned to her mother. “Mama, we will be late if we listen to much
more of this. Lydia, I wish you would not take things so hard.” She
laughed, and the sound was brittle and hard to Lydia’s ears. “Lord,
Mama, we should never have brought her up from Devon. You were
right, but I thought London would do her good.”

“
It did,” Lydia said quietly as she
turned away to gather her shawl from the sofa. Papa gazed at her
with an expression of deep concern, but she did not trouble to
return it. I have no allies here, she thought. Her head began to
ache, and she knew it would be a long evening.

They rode in absolute, deafening
silence to the Capitulation Banquet, each staring out a window of
the carriage. I cannot look at them, Lydia thought. Kitty and Mama
are no better than Private Banks’ tormentors. She rested her
forehead against the glass. No, they are worse. I have warned them
of evildoings, and they choose to ignore it, all in the name of
fashion. She closed her eyes. And Papa will do nothing to prevent
their moral ruin.

The carriage was claustrophobic. She
dug her fingers into the fabric of her dress, wrinkling the
material and bringing down a fierce hiss from Mama to stop it, her
only comment on the entire trip. Her panic increased the closer
they came to the banquet hall and other carriages converged. Her
eyes full of shock and disbelief, she stared at the other
occupants, people as well dressed as the Perkinses, as well
mannered, and probably with more wealth and position. Waves of
humiliation washed over her. We are mushrooms from Devon, she
thought, and not for the first time. Our title is small, even
though our estate is well enough, and we have only one pretty face
to recommend us. I am mortified.

After a wait that turned into
another hour of excruciating silence, it was their turn to descend
from their carriage. Lydia followed Kitty and her parents into the
hall, wishing that she could vanish as Mama preened and looked
around, and Papa cringed anytime someone jostled him. Kitty sailed
forward with confidence, smiling and waving.

She stopped after a few minutes and
whispered to Mama. In the press of people, Lydia was close enough
to hear her sister’s complaint, and she felt her bones chill.
“Mama, no one is waving back to me! What can be the problem?” Kitty
whispered. She looked down at her dress. “Surely I am à la
mode!”

Mama whispered something in return
to placate Kitty as Lydia took a deep breath and looked around. It
was true. Some of the others were staring at them and whispering
among themselves. No one smiled. I wonder, Lydia thought as the
blood drained from her face. I wonder if that dreadful Lindsey or
the other man recognized
me
this afternoon? She took a deep
breath to counteract her sudden light-headedness. What did I say to
either of them that wasn’t the truth? She pressed her hands to her
middle, suddenly queasy. And Major Reed’s reaction would be hard to
overlook. Put the two together ….

She wanted to sit down, but the tide
of people bore them on into the banquet hall. The crowd thinned as
people began to take their seats. She was almost afraid to glance
at Kitty, who hung back now in an unaccustomed way, clutching her
mother’s arm, unable to account for the reaction of the young
ladies and gentlemen she had teased and flirted with only that
morning at a balloon ascension, or some other pointless, insipid
gathering. As Lydia watched in growing concern, Kitty suddenly
smiled and stepped forward.

Lydia groaned, then put her hand to
her mouth. It was Lord Allsuch, and with him was that nasty tall
man, minus his handkerchief, but unmistakable. With a highly
artificial smile, Lord Allsuch beckoned her sister forward, then
gave an elaborate, mocking bow that made her step back in surprise.
Oh, please, no, Lydia thought. I have ruined us.

He spoke quite distinctly. There
wasn’t anyone within earshot who could not have heard him. Indeed,
the anteroom had grown quite silent. “Kitty dear, let me warn your
sister.”

Kitty stopped in the middle of a
smile.

“
What do you mean, Edward?” she
said, ready to put her hand into his, but hesitating now, as he did
not offer his own. “My sister does nothing of importance here in
London.”

“
She keeps dreadful low company in a
charnel house.” He took a deep breath and sniffed the air around
Kitty’s exquisite hair arrangement. “Dearest, dearest Kitty, I fear
it has rubbed off on you! Such a stink.”

Kitty stared in openmouthed
amazement as Lord Allsuch bowed elaborately again and rejoined his
friends. Everyone laughed, whispered among themselves again, and
ignored the Perkins as they all moved forward to take their
places.

White-faced now and trembling, Kitty
leaned on Mama’s arm and allowed herself to be led to a near table.
No one else sat close to them. Lydia seated herself, and in a few
words, completed the other part of the story—Major Reed’s part—as
her family stared at her. “I had no idea he was going to do that,
Mama, really,” she pleaded. “He was so angry, and there was Private
Banks dead, an object of fun. You would have done ….” Her
voice trailed off. No, no one else in my family would have done
what Major Reed did. “I am sorry, Kitty,” she concluded quietly. “I
know this is wounding to you, but you cannot want such low company.
No one with true feelings would.”

Kitty began to cry. The tears slid
down her face in that wonderful way of hers without causing any
blemish or ugliness. It was an art that she had practiced for a
solid year in front of the mirror, with devastating results on the
local Devonshire swains. There was no one to watch now, and
sympathize. No family was as ignored as they were now.

Lydia shivered and drew her wrap
close around her shoulders, trying to ignore the sniggers and
pointing of fingers at Kitty, who was sobbing quite openly now. She
thought Mama would rise and sweep out of the hall, with the rest of
them to trail out in her wake, but she made no move at all. They
sat close together, deriving no comfort from each other, afraid to
call attention to themselves by leaving.

The dinner began. She tried to eat,
but it was as though her throat were sealed. She put down her fork,
scarcely daring to look around. General Picton, sitting several
rows away, caught her eye and smiled at her, obviously unmindful of
their ruin. If I were a man, I would take the king’s shilling and
follow General Picton to the next battle, she thought. I do not
think Holly Street will be any better than this banquet hall. After
everyone has had their fun with us, Mama will turn on
me.

She sat rigid, scarcely daring to
move. During the two hours spent not eating, Kitty managed to
compose herself. Beyond an occasional sob that sounded like muffled
hiccups, she was silent. Lydia could not bring herself to look at
her mother.

She could have cried with relief
when Lord Walsingham finally rose to speak. Some talks, some
toasts, and they would be out of the hall. If they really hurried,
no one would have any more opportunity to snub them. For no good
reason, other than the fact that she was an optimist by nature,
Lydia allowed her hopes to rise. Surely not everyone approved of
evil schemes hatched by idle young men. Surely Kitty will be
approached by her more discerning friends, she thought. I cannot
believe that her Season is unsalvageable. A little time will make
such a difference. People forget.

Later that night, lying in her bed
perfectly miserable, she had time to think through the events of
the next few minutes. If I had not
listened
to Lord
Walsingham, it never would have happened, she thought. If I had not
cared
so much, she told herself. But she did listen, and she
did care.

“
In conclusion, honorables and
distinguished guests, let me kneel for a moment at the feet of
those noble among us who have taken of their valuable time to visit
the sick in our hospitals,” Lord Walsingham was saying. He gestured
toward the assembled diners. “Some do not trumpet the good they
do,” he said.

“
I know he means ladies like you,
daughter,” Papa whispered. “I am certain of it.”

She looked at him, startled. She had
forgotten he had even tagged after them into the hall. She started
to say something then stopped, because Lord Walsingham was
continuing, after a modest pause. His tone became warm, more
intimate. “I call attention to my own son, who—when I dragged it
out of him! Modest boy—was even paying such a call of sympathy
today at St. Barnabas. All honor to such ….”

She heard a chair scraping back and
someone rising and declaring in ringing tones, “Sir, you have been
misled. He went there to do great mischief and watch men die for
entertainment!”

Lydia looked around her for the
voice and realized with sick horror that it was her own. Oh, God,
she thought weakly, as her legs turned to pudding under her. She
clutched at the table to keep upright, and then felt the great
anger build even greater within her. Her indignation lit a fire
that spread through her whole body like wind up an air shaft. She
stood as straight and tall as she could.