A Sisterly Regard Page 4

Chloe clapped her hands. "Oh, I do hope that we will meet him soon. Surely he will be at Almack's or at one of the parties to which we have been invited. Perhaps he will dance with me! Mama, may I have one of the roses for my bedchamber? See, there are too many for the parlor. They are, after all, addressed to me as well as to you."

  "No, indeed, they are not. He never saw you. It was Phaedra whom he wished to thank."

  "But see, it says 'Lady Gifford and Miss Hazelbourne' on the card. I am Miss Hazelbourne. If he meant Phaedra, he would have said so."

  "Perhaps he did not know that Phaedra had an older sister. No Chloe, you may not have a rose. You have enough imagination without a rose to feed your romantic fantasies. We will place them in two vases in the parlor, so that we all may enjoy them." She left the room, carrying the bouquet.

  "Was not Mr. Farwell ever so handsome and suave, Phaedra?" Chloe said, after they had stitched and sketched in silence for a few moments. "I declare, his garments were so elegant, not like those plain ones the boys at home were wont to wear. And his manners, so gracious. I did like him. Surely, with his friendship with the Duchess and Lady Mary, we will see much of him. I wonder if Lady Mary is interested in him."

  "She did not seem so," Phaedra replied. "Her greeting was not one of a young woman to a gentleman for whom she had a tendre."

  "Well, so much the better. I would not want to flirt with someone who was already taken. Such a waste of energy. I wonder what his fortune is. It is too bad that he has no title."

  "Chloe do not even think such thoughts, Do you wish to be considered mercenary?"

  "I am not mercenary, just practical. After all, you would not expect me to marry a poor man, who could not afford to clothe me in the first rank of excellence, would you?"

  "Yes, if you truly loved him."

  "Pooh! You are overly romantic. Here, look at these sketches. What do you think? Would that gown not suit us for our presentation at the Queen's Drawing Room?"

  "No, it would not, Chloe. You know Mama said that the gowns deemed suitable as Court gowns are hopelessly old fashioned, with hoops and all."

  "I suppose you are right. Still, this is a beautiful dress. Perhaps I will save the sketch for after I am wed and may dress as I please. It would be elegant, made up in a deep rose silk. Definitely not in muslin. I hate muslin!"

  Chapter Three

  The next morning at breakfast they were joined by Mama's cousin, Louisa Arbuckle, who had arrived very late the night before. Lady Gifford had earlier warned them to expect her. "I invited Louisa to be a companion to you, for I know you will often desire to attend different events."

  Phaedra greeted her cousin with perfect good cheer, but Chloe made it perfectly obvious that she was not best pleased.

  Cousin Louisa twinkled at Phaedra. "I'm sure we'll have many interesting adventures together," she said, reminding Phaedra of their botanical and ornithological expeditions in years past.

  Phaedra allowed herself to hope that the next few months wouldn't be a complete debacle. Surely she could persuade Cousin Louisa to accompany her to the occasional lecture or museum.

  Although their formal come out would not be for another fortnight, the Season truly started for the sisters on the following day. During the remainder of the week before their first attendance at the subscription ball at Almack's, they were invited to a tea party and a musicale. They also spent one afternoon viewing the Elgin marbles, an outing much enjoyed by Phaedra but not by Chloe, who nonetheless had stared quite avidly at the male bodies so meticulously depicted in marble.

  One afternoon their mother took them driving in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour of five, where they made the acquaintance of several other girls and quite a few gentlemen. But none of the gentlemen, complained Chloe later, came even close to the sort she wanted to meet. "If this is all there is to a Season, why have we bothered coming to London? We could have gone to Bath and met gentlemen as unexciting as those we encountered today."

  "There is no Almack's at Bath," Mama reminded her. "Have patience, Chloe. The Season has hardly begun, and Town is still thin of company. By this time next week, you will be besieged with gentlemen callers. Soon your head will spin with the number of invitation you receive."

  Phaedra groaned inwardly. She could do without a siege by the sorts of gentlemen she had met so far--silly fops whose only topic of conversation was the style of their cravats or the patterns of their waistcoats, not to mention Corinthians of the first stare whose conversation was limited to sporting jargon or mildly scandalous gossip.

  * * * *

  Wednesday finally arrived. Chloe spent the entire afternoon trying on different gowns and complaining that they were all so insipid. By five o'clock she had worked herself into a state bordering upon hysteria. Every gown was crumpled and in need of pressing. She had scattered ribbons and silk flowers and slippers and petticoats about her room until the place resembled nothing so much as a particularly untidy dressmaker's establishment.

  Phaedra had hidden herself away in the library, wishing to gather her energies for the evening's ordeal. Lady Gifford had retired to her chambers to rest. Chloe's anxiety increased until a tap on her door came, late in the afternoon.

  Her mama opened the door and peeked in. "What in the world!"

  Chloe started, then burst into tears. "Mama, it is too much! I have nothing to wear that is suitable! This horrid girl has mussed all my dresses and will not press them. I cannot go to Almack's tonight. My life is ruined!"

  "Stop that wailing this instant, Chloe. What is this mess? How did your clothing come to be strewn about in this manner?"

  "I was choosing a gown to wear tonight. The pink one you said I was to wear is too dowdy. So are all my other gowns." She hiccupped. "Betty is useless. Why did we not bring Peggy? She is so much more helpful."

  Her mother frowned forbiddingly. "Betty, return belowstairs. Edgemont has tasks for you."

  The servant departed.

  "Now, miss, let me have an explanation of this nonsense."

  When Mama spoke in that no-nonsense tone, Chloe knew tears were useless. Still, she tried. "Well, I wanted to see how the pink muslin would look with my gloves and pearls and the white silk rose in my hair. When I got it on, I looked in the mirror and realized that it would not do. I appeared a silly young innocent with nothing to distinguish me. So I tried on my other gowns and they looked equally drab. Nothing I could do, no matter which ribbons or jewelry or anything I chose, would make me look less than young and simpering. Why can I not have Grandmother's diamonds? You know they are to be mine! And that stupid, stupid girl. All she could say was 'You look fine, miss.' She even objected to buttoning me. You must let her go, Mama. She will not suit at all."

  "Betty is not your dresser, and even if she were, it is not becoming in you to keep her for what must have been hours catering to your whims," Mama replied as she busied herself with sorting through the pile of gowns on the bed. "She has other duties, you know.

  "Now then, enough of this. You will wear the blush and pink gown tonight, or you will remain at home. I will tolerate no more excess of sensibility. You will be all that is correct in a young girl making her first Season. And you will behave yourself, young lady, or you will remain at home for the rest of the Season. Furthermore, you will treat Betty and Cousin Louisa with more courtesy."

  Chloe summoned up tears to shimmer in her eyes. "Mama--"

  "Enough, Chloe. Cousin Louisa is your relative, not your servant. I expect you to render her the courtesy you do me."

  "But--"

  "Chloe!"

  When her mama used that particular tone, Chloe knew enough to leave off her pleading. "Yes, Mama."

  "I shall take the pink gown to be pressed. You will, without assistance, return all your dresses and other garments to their proper places. No, do not object; I am quite out of patience with you. If your room is not restored to order by dinnertime, you will not go to Almack's this evening. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, Mam
a," she said again. As soon as her mama had pulled the door closed, she hurled the slipper she held with all her might. It made a loud thud when it hit the door. Oh, dear, I hope Mama did not hear.

  Apparently she had not, for Chloe was left alone to put her gowns back in order.

  Lady Gifford returned to her bedchamber where Parsons had laid out her own gown. "I must ask you to assist me in keeping a watch on Chloe, I'm afraid, Parsons. Betty is unable to resist her demands, and indeed, only encourages Chloe in her distempers."

  "Of course, my lady. I'll keep an eye on her."

  "Do not assist her to dress. It will do her good to be forced to do so without assistance for once. If she wants buttoning, she can always come to me."

  "What about Miss Phaedra? I don't believe she's even come upstairs yet."

  "Oh, dear! Please ask Mrs. Arbuckle to hurry her along, will you? She can assist Phaedra while you and I oversee Chloe. That girl!" Not for the first time she wished they had not been forced to delay Chloe's come out. Well into her nineteenth year, she was too conscious of being older than most of the girls being presented this Season. Her mother worried that she would be overly anxious to find a husband.

  What a coil. With one daughter overly eager to taste life's spicier flavors and the other wishing only to be left to her studies, she was likely to be driven to distraction at least once daily. If only George had come with me, instead of delaying. Thank goodness Cousin Louisa was able to join us.

  Chloe meekly came to her mother to ask to be buttoned and, equally meekly, requested Parson's assistance with her hair. When she descended the stairs for dinner, she did so demurely, and she remained unusually quiet throughout the meal. So did Phaedra, but Lady Gifford secretly thought hers was the quiet of dread. I hope Louisa can lend Phaedra the support she so desperately needs. Otherwise, this Season could be a complete catastrophe.

  She displayed a deliberate insensitivity toward both of her daughters throughout the meal, instead chattering brightly to Cousin Louisa about the delights of other Seasons.

  Cousin Louisa, whose own Season had been cut short by the death of her father, urged them to enjoy their own without anxiety about finding husbands. "By the time I was done with mourning," she told the girls, "I had met my dear Kenneth and had no more desire for the delights of Town. Sometimes I wish..." Her smile was at once wistful and tender.

  Lady Gifford remembered how happy Cousin Louisa had seemed with Mr. Arbuckle. Such a tragedy, his dying so young.

  The ladies retired to put the last touches on their ensembles before departing for Almack's. When the girls again came downstairs, Lady Gifford and Cousin Louisa were awaiting them in the foyer. Lady Gifford watched her daughters descending with a lump in her throat. They looked so lovely and so grown up.

  Chloe was clad in a pink muslin gown with a blush overdress, embellished with white silk rosebuds at neck and hem. Matching pink slippers could be seen peeping from beneath her skirt. Immaculate white gloves covered her bare arms. The pearls around her neck were scarce paler than her own creamy skin, and the pink silk rosebuds in her hair set off its shining darkness.

  Phaedra was equally lovely in an ice yellow gown without an overdress but bearing a slight train. Her mother's amber necklace circled her throat above a slightly scooped neckline--Lady Gifford had not been able to convince her younger daughter to expose even a fashionably decent amount of bosom--and a matching bracelet enclosed one white-gloved wrist. Her dark hair was threaded with white and pale yellow ribbons.

  Lady Gifford sighed. So young and so innocent. Her mother's heart ached for her daughters, for she knew they were both somewhat out of the ordinary. Their Season could be a disaster if either of them was allowed to behave naturally.

  "Well, girls, you both look charmingly," she said. "Now, Chloe, you must remember to behave with decorum and do not let your high spirits lead you into hoydenish actions. And Phaedra, please attempt to converse with your partners. But do not, in any event, bore them with your botanical pursuits. Gentlemen are not fond of young ladies who prattle too much of themselves. You may mention your interests, but be sure and ask them about theirs. If all else fails, you may discuss the weather." She ignored the quickly repressed giggles.

  "Most important, you must recall that you are not to waltz until you are granted permission. I do not expect either of you to obtain such permission tonight. Generally, the patronesses like to observe unknown young ladies for several weeks before deciding that they are well enough behaved to be allowed to waltz."

  A knock cut short these motherly admonitions. Edgemont opened the door and announced that Her Grace's carriage was without. She and her granddaughter, Lady Mary, awaited them.

  As soon as all were settled, the Duchess turned to Phaedra and Chloe. "You gels had better be on your best behavior tonight. I was just telling Mary that to be accepted by the patronesses at Almack's is the only way a gel can have a successful Season. Silly situation, but that's the way the world is. If you lose their approval, you can just whistle down the wind for a fashionable husband. Be sure you don't waltz without their permission.

  "No, you be quiet, gel," she said as Chloe opened her mouth to deliver a sharp retort, "I've seen more Seasons than your mother has years, and know whereof I speak. You follow my advice and you'll do, I tell you.

  "Louisa, I fear your voucher is just as a chaperone. I could not persuade that stiff-rumped relative of yours, Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, to do more than let you in the door. So you'll have to sit in the corner with the other chaperones, I fear."

  Cousin Louisa nodded. "Just as well. I have no desire to take my place in the Marriage Mart, Your Grace."

  "Hmph. You should." She cocked her head and studied Cousin Louisa, who was looking almost dowdy in a dark gray gown that did not become her. "Or perhaps not. No sense in running against this year's field."

  Chloe heard Her Grace's words with disbelief. Could Cousin Louisa still be a candidate for marriage? Surely not. She was old.

  For the rest of their short journey, the Duchess interrogated Mama about the situation at Gifford Court. "What George does with his inheritance is no concern of mine, but I can't help being curious. He's always had an odd kick to his gallop. I tell you, Isabella, there is a frivolity about your husband I cannot entirely approve."

  To Chloe's amazement, Mama did not dispute the Duchess' words. How could she allow anyone, even Her Grace, to disparage Papa? Even that thought was driven from her mind as the carriage slowed.

  Chloe was speechless with excitement as they entered the assembly hall. There was no time for her to do more than gape briefly at the plain, unfestive appearance of the fabled Almack's. Mama immediately led them to a haughty woman whom she introduced as the Countess Leiven.

  The countess gave the sisters a chilly smile, but spoke cordially to their mother. "It is too bad that you must play the gooseberry this year, Isabella. Is your charming husband to join you?"

  "Yes, but he had obligations to keep him at home these past weeks. He will arrive in a few days."

  "So nice," the Countess replied. "If you can escape from your maternal duties, please come to tea some afternoon."

  Lady Gifford murmured her agreement and led the girls away. "Hush," she hissed as Chloe opened her mouth to speak. "Do not even think unkindly of the Countess. She can be a deadly enemy. I do hope she will take a liking to you, as much as she can like any girl with the freshness of youth."

  The next patroness to whom they were introduced barely gave them time to greet her before she started speaking rapidly. She spoke of their appearance as if they were not present, but was, on the whole, complimentary. As they moved away from her through the crowd, Lady Gifford told her awed daughters, "You see why Sally Jersey is called 'Silence'. She is a terrible gossip, but she is also kind. I quite like her better than any of the others."

  On being presented to Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, Chloe was amazed. How could such a top-lofty, ugly woman come to be so important? She was appropriately polit
e, remembering her mother's warning that this woman, on a whim, could do them great damage.

  No other patronesses were present, but the introductions continued as they strolled. Mama was obviously well acquainted with and well liked by most of the ton. Chloe's head was swimming with names and faces by the time they had completed their circuit of the room.

  Before the first set had ended, each girl had been asked for dances by gentlemen to whom they had been introduced. When the next set was made up for a country dance, both she and Phaedra had partners. Hers was Mr. Martin, a wispy youth in the extreme of fashion. Although he was pleasant enough, Chloe could not warm to him, for he bore no resemblance to the man of her dreams.

  The third dance was a waltz. The sisters remained at their mother's side, watching the dancers swirl about the room.

  Chloe suddenly sat up straighter and laid her hand on her sister's arm. "Look, Phaedra, over by the door. Is that not the gentleman whom you helped along the road?"

  She turned to look. "I do not believe it is. This gentleman is older and, I think, somewhat taller. Do not stare, Chloe. It is rude."

  "Well, he is excessively handsome, all the same, and I am sure that I have seen him in the park." She raised her hand as if to wave to him.

  "Chloe!" Phaedra caught her elbow. "Behave yourself. You have not been introduced to the gentleman. You may not claim acquaintance on the basis of a chance encounter."

  Mama turned to look questioningly at Chloe. Phaedra quickly explained. The traitor.

  "Chloe, that is exactly the sort of behavior that I warned you against," Mama scolded. "You must not give in to these unladylike urges. If the gentleman wishes to make our acquaintance, it is up to him to do so. To wave at a gentleman anywhere in public is not at all the thing. Here, at Almack's, it is unthinkable."

  Chloe clamped her lips together and covertly watched the dark haired gentleman as he surveyed the room with his quizzing glass. As his glance came to her, she quirked her lips in a small smile. His glance passed on with no sign of recognition. She continued to watch the door. Soon another familiar face appeared. She started to raise a hand to catch the gentleman's attention, but remembering her mother's admonition, restrained herself.