A Sisterly Regard Page 10

  "You worry too much, wife. Now come here and let me kiss you. I'm an old man and I need my sleep."

  * * * *

  Chloe continued to fulminate after returning to her own bedchamber. She paced the floor and catalogued the acts of persecution and neglect inflicted upon her by her family for a good half hour. Eventually, her anger was exhausted and she reluctantly admitted that she should have followed her mother's advice, at least until she had been granted permission to waltz. But had she really disgraced herself? Of course not. Mama was being overly cautious. How could one woman influence the entire ton?

  Convinced she would soon be forgiven any minor lapses of behavior, Chloe thought again of her mother and sister's scoldings. Perhaps she had allowed her temper to overrule her better judgment tonight, she admitted. But it was so unfair! Without permission to waltz, and at her very own ball, she would be miserable. What right did those horrible, high-and-mighty old women at Almack's have to decide whether or not Chloe Hazelbourne could waltz at a private party?

  Chapter Seven

  Thursday morning the denizens of London awoke to rain The downpour continued intermittently throughout the day, accompanied by blustery wind. Phaedra and Cousin Louisa braved the weather to visit Lady Mary in the afternoon. The Duchess' house was in a state of confusion with preparations for the ball Friday night. Phaedra offered their assistance and it was quickly accepted. They were set to supervising the washing of the crystal drops on the many wall sconces in the enormous ballroom while Lady Mary helped with those from the great chandelier which hung over the center of the room. All three were soon up to their elbows in soapsuds as they took over the washing themselves in an attempt to hurry the chore along. Servants were rushing everywhere, and tradesmen scurried in and out bringing plants, statuary and even a small fountain to set up in the ballroom, which was planned to appear as a sylvan glade.

  As the two girls rested a moment while awaiting more crystal drops, Phaedra looked about her. The ceiling was painted with elysian scenes. On the two long walls were mirrors, divided into small panes so as to resemble windows. Deep green velvet draperies enhanced the resemblance and complimented the lighter green medallions on the ivory silk wallpaper. Gazing critically about her at the decorations being installed, she said, "Mary, I do believe that this will be an improvement upon nature."

  "How so?" Lady Mary asked.

  "Why they are building a glade with an appearance of naturalness, but without all those portions which make nature so uncouth. Unless you are importing ants and worms and dirt and rocks. And snakes, we must not forget the snakes."

  "Oh, do you think we should include them?" Lady Mary said in a serious voice.

  "By all means. It would add to the authenticity of the setting."

  "What a delightful notion. We must immediately order some snakes. They could be placed over there, under the musician's balcony. Or would they be better near the fountain?"

  "I think the fountain would be better. Then they would feel at home. They prefer a moist setting, you know."

  "Perhaps we could scatter ants over all the greenery, shaking them out of their bag like pepper," Lady Mary proposed, "to add spice."

  Phaedra stifled a giggle. "Let me see, would that be better, or should we place them in the bower which will enclose the refreshment tables? That would enhance the impression of being on a picnic."

  "What a marvelous idea. Ants. I shall add that to my list. And what more do we need? Would slugs be appropriate?"

  Phaedra pondered. "Slugs would be very appropriate if placed in the foliage behind the row of chaperones' chairs." She tapped her chin with a forefinger. "Do you know, it is too bad that the ballroom will be so well lit. A few bats hanging from the chandelier might be a clever touch."

  "Absolutely not. I detest bats. But perhaps I could convince Grandmama to send out for a dozen or two sparrows and perhaps some robins. Birds add so much to an outdoor setting, don't you think?"

  "Oh, yes, and they offer so much opportunity for amusement. Just think what reaction there would be if one came and perched on the rim of Lady Everingham's plate as she was nibbling at her sweetmeats." They both dissolved in laughter.

  Cousin Louisa called them to attention. "If you hope to get these drops washed today, you had better get busy. Look here, the maids have got so far ahead of you that they now have nothing to do."

  Lady Mary told the grateful maids to rest a few moments. "I would imagine their legs are tired, with all that running up and down the ladders." She said as she immersed more crystal drops into soapy water. "So much more difficult than stairs."

  "You are kind. So many mistresses would have set the maids to another task instead of allowing them to rest," Phaedra said.

  "Kindness and practicality are frequently the same thing. The maids will work better and faster for a short rest, and they will not be so prone to drop the crystals."

  Close to another hour passed before they washed the last delicate crystal prism. As they watched the maids replacing them, Lady Mary thanked Phaedra and Cousin Louisa for their help and apologized for letting them work when they had come on a social call.

  "Nonsense," Cousin Louisa said. "The ball is for Phaedra as much as for you. It was the least we could do. Now, is there anything else we can help you with, Lady Mary, before we depart?"

  "No, there is not. This was my last housecleaning assignment." She escorted them to the vestibule herself and let them out, repeating her thanks.

  Phaedra dreaded going home, because she feared a repetition of the previous night's storms. Chloe had been quiet at breakfast and had not spoken to her. She was pleasantly surprised, therefore, to find that her sister's disposition had improved considerably through the course of the afternoon. Several gentlemen, it seemed, had called and had filled her head with flattery and poetical allusions. Lord Everingham had been particularly attentive and had brought her flowers and sweets.

  "I do not know whether it was his obvious devotion or his gifts that succeeded in bringing her out of her temper, but which ever it was, I am grateful," Lady Gifford observed in an aside to Cousin Louisa. Phaedra pretended not to have heard it.

  The following day was quiet, as Lady Gifford had refused all invitations and had required the sisters to remain at home and rest in the afternoon. They were to dine at the Duchess's mansion before the ball, in a select group of about thirty. Preparations for the evening began in the late afternoon, when the household staff began carrying hot water to all four bedchambers.

  The only crisis of the day was brought about by Chloe's attempt to decide which of her four posies she should carry. Her mama settled the question by commanding her to carry the flowers her father had sent her. As the sisters joined their mother and Cousin Louisa in the foyer, Lord Gifford came out of the parlor and looked them over.

  "My word, such a bevy of beauties! I'm a lucky dog, I am, to be escorting four such lovely ladies."

  And indeed, they were all four in the best of looks. Lady Gifford had chosen a gown of palest gray. Its drifting silk gauze overdress was shot with silver and embroidered with silver oak leaves twining up the front of the skirt and over the bodice. Her prematurely grey hair shone silver in the candlelight, and a spray of diamonds holding two silver gray plumes in her coiffure matched the gems sparkling at her throat and wrists.

  Cousin Louisa, forsaking her usual dark colors, had clothed herself in a silk gown of a color somewhere between lavender and gray. Although somewhat out of date in style, it was nevertheless elegant, with trimmings of jet beading. A matching turban was almost covered with jet beads, sparkling dramatically.

  Chloe's gown of palest rose muslin was unadorned except at hem and sleeves, where pearls were sewn in a scroll pattern. The deeper rose ribbon covering the high waistline was held at the front with a matching rosette surrounded by leaves made of pearls. Her slippers matched her gown, as did her gloves. More pearls encircled her throat and were threaded through her brown hair, which was arranged a la grecque
. Her posy was blush roses in a silver holder. Excitement had put color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eye.

  Phaedra was as lovely as her sister. She was clad in a gown of creamy white, a color very nearly matching her skin. The gauze overskirt was a slightly darker shade of cream, shot with golden threads. A golden rope encircled the high waist. Her jewelry was topaz set in a golden chain about her throat and dangling at her ears. Her hair was pulled to the top of her head by a golden comb and fell in ringlets down her back. The posy she carried was of white roses, their petals delicately touched with golden yellow, surrounded by feathery asparagus fern.

  The Duchess's dinner party was unbalanced, for the ladies far outnumbered the gentlemen. Her Grace offered no apology for the uneven numbers. The ball was for the three girls, but this dinner party was for her friends. Chloe found herself seated between Lady Hortense Wimbledon and a rather deaf old gentleman. He examined her through his quizzing glass and pronounced that she was a taking little thing before addressing himself exclusively to his food. As Lady Hortense was far more interested in conversing with the person on her other side, Chloe found herself quite ignored. She could not decide whether to be outraged or relieved. To her considerable surprise, she had little appetite. Instead a cold lump of apprehension sat in her middle.

  What would this night bring? Would she take? Or would she be judged merely acceptable, like so many girls who had to settle for less than their dreams?

  No! I will not believe that. I must take. I must.

  Lord Gifford was on Phaedra's right and Lady Jersey on her left. She found that she only had to nod and smile occasionally to converse with Lady Jersey. By the time the ladies retired, she felt as if she had been caught within a whirlwind.

  The receiving line, which Phaedra had dreaded because of the numbers of people she would have to meet, was merely exhausting. So many curtsies, so many hands to shake, so many how d'ye dos to respond to, and so many names to try to remember. She found herself in a daze, until a vaguely familiar voice caught her ear. She looked up into nearly black eyes set beneath heavy, dark brows.

  The Duchess greeted the older woman beside him. "Well, Elizabeth, it's about time you came back to Town. So this is your son. Cranky lookin' fella, ain't he? Make you both acquainted with my granddaughter, Lady Mary Follansbee."

  Lady Mary greeted them graciously. Wilderlake bowed low over her hand, but he did not smile.

  The Duchess's many-ringed had waved in her general direction. "Lord and Lady Gifford, and their daughters, Chloe and Phaedra."

  The sisters had barely time to murmur greetings to Lady Wilderlake before her son bowed before them, saying, "And one of you was my good Samaritan, but which one? You are so very similar."

  She had no chance to reply, for the next guests were close behind him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Chloe gazing after him. Oh, dear. This could become complicated.

  Lady Mary was led out for the first dance by her grandfather, the Duke of Verbain, Chloe by Lord Gifford, and Phaedra by her mama's cousin. She had always liked her ministerial uncle, Godfrey Stevens. It was he who had encouraged her parents to allow her to become educated far beyond what was usual for a young woman of her position.

  She appreciated his coming to Town just so she would have a male relative with whom to open the ball. He had arrived only that day, but would stay for a sennight. Phaedra engaged to go with him to the gardens at Kew the next day but one. Uncle Godfrey had long encouraged her interest in plants, and indeed, was acquainted with Sir Joseph Banks. She looked forward to the excursion with great pleasure.

  The Duchess had planned that every fourth dance would be a waltz. Unlike most of her contemporaries, she enjoyed the dance and did not think it improper. Phaedra had reluctantly allotted the first waltz to Mr. Farwell, fearing that they would again argue. She was standing by her mother, waiting for him to claim her, when Lord Wilderlake approached her.

  "Miss Hazelbourne, dare I hope that you are not engaged for this dance?"

  "I am, sir, but I do not believe my sister is." It never occurred her to ask if he would be willing to sit out the waltz with Chloe.

  "Then will you save another waltz for me? I wish to speak with you, which I cannot do in a country dance."

  "I would be delighted."

  He signed her dance card for the last waltz of the evening.

  Reggie approached just then. "Trying to steal my partner, Wilderlake?"

  "No, but to capture her for another." He bowed and left them, heading for Chloe who stood in the center of a group of young men.

  As the music began, he set his hand at Phaedra's waist. "Well, Miss Phaedra, what shall we dispute this evening?"

  "Why nothing at all, Mr. Farwell. I am so in charity with the world that I will not argue, even with you."

  "Good." He pulled her closer and she did not resist. "At the risk of a setdown, I would like to say that I have never seen you looking lovelier. I am pleased that you chose to carry my posy."

  "I had no choice. It so perfectly matched my dress, you see."

  He whirled her about the floor. "It does, indeed. We fops are good for something, are we not?"

  Phaedra only smiled. She was completely lost in her enjoyment of the dance. If only it could go on like this forever.

  "Oh my God," he said suddenly.

  "What is it? Did I tread upon your foot?"

  "Your sister. She is dancing."

  "Oh, no! How could she? And with whom?" She tried to see Chloe, but too many of the other dancers were taller than she.

  "With Wilderlake. He could not know she was not granted permission last night."

  "What can we do?" Phaedra was unsure why she imagined he could help the situation, but had no doubt that if anyone could, it would be he.

  "Too late. Lady Jersey has seen her. No, do not pull away. You cannot stop her now, and if you were to fly to her side, it would only compound the problem. Smile, Phaedra, you are enjoying this dance with me. And you have not a care in the world. Come, now, let me see your eyes sparkle. Surely you are that good an actress."

  She smiled, but her heart was not in it. They danced in silence until the music stopped, and she started to rush to her mother. He held her back and said, "Slowly, slowly. You must not act as if anything is amiss." They strolled across the ballroom. Mr. Farwell smiled and nodded at various ladies and gentlemen. Phaedra attempted to do the same, but her face was so stiff she wondered if her expression was not closer to a grimace.

  As they approached, Phaedra heard Mama say, "Chloe, I do believe you have torn your hem."

  Chloe opened her mouth to protest, but a quick frown silenced her. "Let us retire and I will see if I can pin it up. Phaedra, will you assist me? If you gentlemen will excuse us?"

  As soon as they were in the corridor Chloe said, "Mama, my gown--"

  "Hush, you silly child. Do not say a word until we are alone." Instead of turning toward the ladies' retiring room, she guided them into a small salon and closed the door behind her. "Phaedra, please stand here and see that no one interrupts us. Chloe, what have you to say for yourself?"

  Chloe's lower lip stuck out, much as it had when she was a child and thwarted. "It is my ball, and I have the right to enjoy it." Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

  "You have no rights except those you are given. And you were not given the right to waltz. You may never be allowed into Almack's again."

  "I don't care! It is a stuffy place where they make you act like statues. I hate it! There will be other balls, anyway."

  "There may not be, if you are not invited. You have once again showed society that you do not accept its rules. You could be ostracized for the rest of the Season."

  "Mama, someone is approaching," Phaedra called softly from her position by the door.

  "Very well," her mother said. "Chloe, I cannot force you to sit at my side for the remainder of the evening, for to do so would cause even more talk. But you will behave yourself or you will find yourself restric
ted to the house for the rest of the Season. Do you hear?" She rose to her feet. "There, I believe that I have mended it," she continued as footsteps paused outside the door. "Now move carefully and perhaps the hem will not tear again this evening."

  "Thank you, Mama," Chloe responded dutifully, although her mulish expression belied her tone.

  The door opened just then and the Duchess entered. She hardly glanced at Chloe and Phaedra. "Do you need assistance, Isabella?"

  "No, I believe I have handled the problem for now. I may call on your influence later, however, when we have some idea of how severe the consequences are."

  "Serve her right if she was ostracized," Her Grace said. "Foolish chit."

  "I'm not--"

  Mama held up a hand. "Hush, Chloe. Do not say one single word."

  Phaedra saw the worry in her eyes, and tightened her lips. Poor Mama. She had been so determined that they would make good matches in London. For herself, Phaedra didn't care. She had never expected to take. But Chloe--

  It's her own fault, though. Mama warned her. So did I.

  When they returned to the ballroom, both girls were claimed by their partners. Unfortunately, the dance sets had already been made up, so they were forced to sit out. But they danced the next set and no one acted as if there was anything unusual in Chloe's behavior. She relaxed, certain her mother and the Duchess had exaggerated the situation's gravity.

  Lord Everingham sat out the next waltz with Chloe, under her mother's watchful eye. "I cannot see why you will not dance this waltz with me," he told her, a trace of petulance in his voice. "You danced with Wilderlake."

  "Oh, my lord, I am so fatigued. Besides, we can talk more comfortably here than on the dance floor."

  "I cannot hold you in my arms, here," he retorted.

  Chloe soothed his hurt feelings with soft words and promises of other times, other waltzes. When the music ended, he relinquished her to her next partner unwillingly but with good grace.