Chapter Two
It is impossible to say if there are truly any benefits to a man being in uniform or not. While it may enhance whatever physical attractiveness he may possess, in my experience, I have never found anything of heightened attractiveness of nature because of it.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 3 March 1817
Captain Anthony Sterling yawned as he surveyed the room, not entirely accustomed to the finer things in life now that his time in the army was done. He had no regrets about resigning his commission; it had been the perfect time to do so.
But he’d intentionally avoided being one of those officers that used their uniforms to influence others, and as such, he’d not had much interaction with anyone outside of his regiment and the other officers. Oh, there had been the occasional country dance that their regiment had been invited to, but Tony had always found a very good reason to avoid going. He preferred the battles on the field to the battles in a ballroom.
There was no particular reason for it. He was no tragic hero and he really was quite a congenial fellow with the opposite sex. He could dance rather well, he could converse with ease, and he had always done the utmost to behave as a gentleman no matter the circumstance.
He simply did not enjoy it.
His older brother Benedict had chosen, probably for the best, to avoid that necessity altogether by becoming a physician and situating himself in a small coastal town in Dorset. He never came to London, and rarely left his own county. Tony had just come from spending a month there, and while the experience had been invigorating and enjoyable, he’d rather felt as if he’d spent weeks convalescing by the seaside.
It hadn’t suited.
So here he was, back in London and feeling even more uncomfortable for it. His uniform certainly drew enough attention from the young ladies in the room, and he wished he’d thought twice about wearing it. Technically, he no longer had to. But it was far more comfortable for him than his rarely used eveningwear, so that had decided everything for him.
What exactly had possessed him to choose a ball for his first foray back into Society? He should have just gone to a club and spent some time with the other gentlemen, it would have been far better suited to his level of comfort.
But alas, he was here, and he couldn’t leave when he’d only been here half an hour.
So, he would just stand here.
And yawn.
“Now is that any way to behave at a ball, Captain? You have so much potential, it would be a shame to waste it.”
Tony didn’t bother hiding the smirk he felt as he turned to face the only person he was likely to know at the ball this evening. “My Lord Sterling, I shall consider your word a command.”
That earned him a dry snort. “Don’t do that, then I would have to consider myself a person of some importance, and I doubt my wife would like that very much.”
Tony held out his hand, grinning outright. “It is good to see you, Francis.”
His cousin gripped his hand firmly, clapping him on the shoulder. “And you as well. I’d heard you were in Dorset with Ben for a while, how did that go?”
Tony sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I am not meant for a simple life by the coast like he is. Ben was always the more easy-natured of the pair of us, so it’s perfect for him.”
Francis grunted and took up position next to Tony, surveying the room with his usual blank expression. “Has he got a wife yet?”
“Lord, no.” Tony chuckled and took a drink from the footman nearest him. “Half of the village girls are in love with him, though. You would not believe how many calls of ‘Doctor Sterling’ we received every time we were out.”
“Knowing Ben, I can believe it.” Francis folded his arms and nodded to himself. “He won’t be easily snatched up, though. He’s far too selective.”
“Says the man who swore to remain a bachelor for the entirety of his days,” Tony reminded him with a smile.
It was amazing to see the transformation that came over Francis at that reminder. His expression changed from bland politeness with a hint of smugness to a warm irony, his features softening as his eyes fixed on a dark-haired woman across the room, completely unaware of them, chatting with other women around her.
“I thought I would,” Francis murmured, still staring at his wife. “Janet was… unexpected.”
Tony scoffed softly as he watched them, Janet now returning the look from her husband, and coloring at it.
“And to think she once hated you,” Tony mused, almost to himself, as his cousin wasn’t listening.
Francis let a corner of his mouth lift in a crooked smile, Janet looked away quickly, smiling herself. Then his cousin seemed to shake himself and looked back at Tony. “As I said, too selective.”
“How odd,” Tony said with a smile. “Must be a family trait.”
That earned him a scolding look. “I’ll have no sarcastic judgment from you, sir, who cannot sort himself out enough to remember how to behave in decent society, and probably never did anything unless directly ordered while he served, am I right?”
Tony frowned at his cousin. “Hardly fair. It was my job to obey orders.”
Francis scowled playfully. “No one is commanding you now, are they? And without a command, you don’t know what to do with yourself.”
If only it were as stupid as it sounded, but that was too accurate for Tony’s comfort. He didn’t know what to do anymore, and a command would have been quite welcome right now. Preferably one to leave the ball and take up his recently resigned commission to get him back to familiar ground.
But that seemed unlikely. Particularly since he’d gone through so much trouble to get out, and his stepmother Miranda had been so pleased by that he hadn’t the heart to change it.
“Good heavens, Tony, it was only a joke,” Francis scoffed, nudging him. “No need to look so despondent. It’s a ball, not a funeral.”
“I’ve never felt so out of place in my life,” Tony muttered.
“With that expression, you look it.”
Well, that was certainly helpful.
“There was a time,” Francis continued, looking amused as he moved in front of Tony, “when you were very good at being the gentleman. Shame about that.”
Tony barely hid another scowl. “Are you abandoning me to my pathetic fate?”
Francis gave him a sardonic look. “Only for the time it takes me to claim this dance with my charming wife, who is far more attractive a companion than you, and of whom I happen to be fonder than you. So, if you can bear it, I will proceed accordingly.”
There was really no course but to let him go, and Tony moodily watched as his cousin did just as he said he would, and the smile it brought to his wife’s face was something to behold.
Tony had never thought of Francis as a particularly romantic person, and most of the time considered him quite the opposite, but there was no doubt in anybody’s mind that Lord and Lady Sterling were a love match, which was absolutely not a common occurrence. Tony didn’t know Janet well, but he certainly liked her well enough. He had no doubt that, now he was in London, he would come to like her better than Francis.
At this particular moment, he was sure he would.
“Tony!”
He turned quickly to see his cousin Hugh, Francis’ younger brother, coming towards him with a wide grin. He looked almost nothing like his brother, who was darker and more brooding, while Hugh was fair and lively, but in features they were alike enough to keep anyone from asking inappropriate questions. Tony remembered that when they had chosen to let their hair grow unfashionably long in their more entertaining youth, they each had developed an astonishing amount of perfect curls that spawned envy in several of their female cousins.
It was a useless piece of information, but Tony was sure somewhere he could employ it as he saw fit.
“Hugh!” He reached for his cousin’s hand and embraced him warmly.
Hugh thumped him on the back and held him at arm’s length, looking him over. “My, you’re looking rather robust. I’d almost consider you a sailor, you’re so tanned.”
“If you spent any time out of doors, you could have some color in your face as well,” Tony teased, reaching out to pinch his cousin’s cheeks.
Hugh slapped his hand away with a laugh. “I get out! I ride and hunt as much as the next gentleman.”
Tony pointedly looked at the gentleman nearest him, who was pasty-faced and rotund. He frowned and murmured, “That doesn’t seem to be very much.”
The gentleman didn’t seem to notice Tony and Hugh’s snickering, which was no doubt due to his inebriation and the distraction of several pretty girls in his immediate vicinity. None that paid him any mind, granted, but they were still present.
“If that is what I can expect from returning to Society,” Tony muttered, “I’d rather leave now and avoid it altogether.”
Hugh snorted, shaking his head. “You won’t. You’re not Mr. Talbot, and it would take you years to even come close. Just dance at these things and keep to your riding. Perhaps fence, if you like.”
“I do fence, and quite well,” Tony offered with a faint smile. “Would you care to test me?”
“Not even a little,” Hugh replied swiftly. “I am no fool.”
That was to be determined. Hugh had always been a bit of a fool, especially when compared to his brother, but Francis was wise, and Hugh was not.
“Pity.” Tony scanned the room without much concern, wondering if any of his friends would have returned to the area. He’d lost track of most of his schoolmates, and he’d been in the army for so long that most of his friends were there, or had been. Lieutenant Henshaw might be the sort that would come to London eventually, but he was undoubtedly still in Bristol with his family. That ought to get him racing off to London, certainly, as he had seven younger sisters.
If that was not enough to scare a man to Town, nothing was.
“How long have you been in Town, Tony?” Hugh asked him. “You should have called.”
“Only a few days,” Tony assured him, “and I intended to call once I was settled.”
“Settled.” Hugh scoffed loudly, drawing a few surprised looks. “You’re not going to be settled until you’ve secured a country house with extensive grounds and your only neighbors are the foxes you hunt.”
Tony tossed him a scolding glare. “I’m not a recluse, nor a confirmed bachelor.”
Hugh’s eyes widened, as did his smile. “Don’t say that too loudly.”
“Nor am I inclined to make a match any time soon.” Tony shook his head. “Truly, there must be something else that Society cares about besides the availability of a man and the size of his fortune.”
“If there is, I’ve yet to hear of it.” Hugh took a long drink of the punch he held, then looked back at Tony with a brighter expression. “Say, how much did you make in the army? I’ll wager it was a pretty penny.”
Tony’s collar suddenly felt tight and it was all he could do to avoid tugging at it. “Enough,” he evaded.
Truth be told, he had made quite a good deal, and he no longer had any concern for his future. It was, in fact, enough for him to be a decently tempting prospect for the young ladies of Society that did not aim for the peerage. He was not in any particular hurry to become a target for any young woman, or her overeager mother, but he knew full well that he ought to at least begin to consider the idea.
It was about the only thing there was to do these days.
He began a slow scan of the room. There were several very pretty young ladies about, some dancing while others mingled, but Tony could honestly say he did not know a single one of them. That was disconcerting, to say the least.
“Whatever happened to Margaret Lister?” Tony asked Hugh as he sipped his drink again.
Hugh grunted. “She married Tobias Morgan. Has a pair of boys now, God help her.”
“And Elizabeth Warren?”
“Fancied her, too, did you?”
Tony gave his cousin a look. “It is only a question, not an insight into my interests.”
“She was a very pretty woman,” Hugh admitted, holding up his hands in surrender. “Not passing any judgment. I was far too young to be interested in her myself, but…”
“What happened to her, Hugh?” Tony overrode.
“To whom?” Francis asked as he appeared with Janet. “Asking after women, are we, Tony?”
Tony groaned, but smiled. “Not anymore, you’ve brought the best of the lot.” He bowed to Janet and took her hand. “My Lady Sterling, you are lovelier than I recall, and bear the burden of your unfortunate husband so well.”
Janet dimpled a warm smile, allowing him to draw her hand to his lips. “We all have our crosses to bear, Captain, and I try to bear mine with little complaint. Please, call me Janet.”
“As you wish.” He smirked at Francis’s expression, and released Janet’s hand. “At least he’s learned to dance, which must help matters.”
“I always danced!” Francis protested.
“No, you didn’t,” Tony and Hugh said together.
Janet gave a merry laugh and looked up at her husband with a broad smile. “That explains a lot.”
Francis narrowed his eyes at her, then turned to the others with a suspiciously clear expression. “Whom was Tony asking about, Hugh?”
“Elizabeth Warren,” Hugh answered almost gleefully, his eyes alight. “I was just about to break his heart with the news.”
Janet tilted her head at Tony with a curious smile. “You weren’t one of the sad fools trailing after her, were you, Tony?”
He shook his head at once. “Not at all, she was simply the most popular name on gentlemen’s lips when last I was about London Society.”
“Well, she’s not about Society anymore,” Janet told him quite plainly. “Poor thing got saddled with Charles Hartley after an unfortunate house party incident.”
Tony winced at that. Charles Hartley was neither intelligent nor kind, and only his fortune and Grecian profile gave him any credence with anyone.
“I think you’d better stop asking after the girls you once knew, Tony,” Francis sighed, looking around himself. “The only ones you might possibly recognize would be in that far corner, and I doubt any would be of interest to you.”
Tony followed his cousin’s gaze and saw a plain, diminutive girl in a cream dress trying to make herself smaller as she sat between a rather large woman with an excessive number of ruffles and an older woman, whose wrinkled visage Tony recalled all too well.
“Lady Hetty Redgrave is still about?” Tony laughed, turning to his cousins.
“And thriving,” Hugh grumbled, casting a sour look at the woman. “Last week she called me an insolent puppy who was in want of training.”
Tony choked on a laugh while Francis shrugged. “She’s not wrong.”
Hugh chose, probably for the best, to ignore them. “And now she has her very own batch of admirers to encourage her on in her insolence.”
“Can a woman over seventy be insolent?” Tony asked the rest. “I rather think they have earned something by that time.”
“I adore Lady Hetty myself,” Janet offered, smiling fondly at her. “And it is good to see others pay her some respect.”
Tony watched as two other girls came to the corner, one sitting next to Lady Hetty and the other sitting behind the plain girl, leaning forward to speak to her. Lady Hetty turned to say something to them, then she and the three younger girls laughed, while the larger woman rose and moved to the other side of the room.
“Miss Westfall must be delighted,” Hugh said. “She may now breathe freely on her right side. Perhaps now someone might dance with her, given the opening.”
“She’s small enough that it makes no difference if Mrs. Guntrip sits there or no,” Francis commented. “And she’s one of the Spinsters, so I don’t know that she expects to dance at all.”
“Would you dance with her, the way she stammers on?” Hugh snorted softly. “Like trying to converse with a very small goat.”
Janet rapped Hugh on the arm sharply, her jaw tightening. “I demand you take that back, Hugh Sterling, right this minute. That was a beastly, cruel thing to say, and I would properly crown you if we were not in public and expected to behave.”
“Oh, come off it, Janet…” Hugh protested, coloring slightly.
“Do it,” Tony told him, his voice tight. “I nearly crowned you myself, and I don’t know Miss Westfall from anyone.”
“Fortunate man.”
“Hugh!” Francis scolded, looking rather put out. “Were you raised by heathens and schooled by scoundrels? Or did you misplace your manners somewhere with a sensible weskit?”
Hugh looked like an irritated schoolboy, then grumbled, “I apologize to all of Miss Westfall’s champions for my uncalled-for harshness with regards to her character.”
Janet nodded her approval, and then swept away with a warning look at her husband.
“However true it might be,” Hugh continued under his breath.
Tony glanced at his young cousin in disbelief. Hugh had never been so cynical or harsh before and had always spoken of young ladies with some measure of deference, if a trifle humorous. Now he was rude and reckless, and nothing good-natured to be found.
Hugh caught his gaze and misread it. “Janet disapproves of me,” he muttered, keeping his voice low so Francis could not hear. “She thinks I lack taste and honor, or something. It’s very rich coming from a woman who…”
“Careful,” Tony warned. He glanced at Francis, who miraculously hadn’t heard. “I don’t know her well, but I will absolutely thrash you if you go on.” He leaned closer and hissed, “Have you no sense, Hugh? What has gotten into you?”
An odd expression crossed Hugh’s pale face and he blinked almost unsteadily. “Rest easy, soldier,” he drawled. “This is no war. You don’t have to defend every woman in London.”
Tony’s brow furrowed with concern and some distress, when Francis turned to the pair of them. “Talking about women again? Between Hugh and myself, we can give you a fair scope of the current flock.”
“Capital idea,” Hugh replied, almost too loudly. “Anyone catching your eye, Tony?”
He wasn’t at all pleased with the change in topic, but Tony allowed it, making a mental note to keep a closer eye on Hugh in the coming days. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking, were I truly inclined towards romantic pursuits.”
“Well, take a look, then,” Francis urged, laughing to himself. “We seem to be the only sensible branches of the family, so it would behoove us to keep things proper.”
Tony raised a brow at him. “And a proper wife would do that?”
His cousin shrugged. “It’d be a proper place to start.”
“And a proper way to die, if you choose poorly,” Hugh grumbled, giving Tony a knowing look.
He didn’t want to start a discussion on young ladies in London, whether they would suit his tastes or not. But he must start somewhere, and if his cousins wished to give him some insight here, he might as well take them up on the offer. It was better than nothing.
He could safely ignore the dancing young ladies for present, so he focused on those currently not. A very fine-looking woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and a decent collection of men gathered about her drew his gaze. She was listening to them all, he was sure of it, but not exactly engaging with them. She looked rather bored, in fact, but nothing in her behavior was enough to dissuade any trying for her. And if one fell away, there was another to take his place.
“Who is that?” Tony asked his cousins, indicating her with his chin. “Do you know her?”
Hugh shuddered visibly. “Charlotte Wright. She’s an heiress, and a Spinster.”
Tony looked again, surprised. “She doesn’t look like a spinster. There are plenty of men about her. Surely she’s got offers enough.”
“Oh, not that kind of spinster,” Hugh assured him. “Spinster with a capital S.”
That made no sense, and Tony didn’t bother hiding his confusion. “What?”
Francis rolled his eyes. “Oh, I cannot bear a discussion of them. Janet adores them and their column, and if my brother and cousin are going to discuss them, I’ll say something out of character.” He bowed a little and left them without delay.
“Even Francis is a coward when it comes to them,” Hugh acknowledged with a sigh. “But it only makes him wiser. You can’t blame him.”
“I won’t, I’m sure,” Tony said, “when I have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“The Spinsters.” Hugh cast a quick glance around, then took a small step closer. “Have you read any of the London papers lately?”
Tony shook his head. “Should I have?”
Hugh waved a dismissive hand. “It makes little difference. Next time you have a chance, pick up one of the gossip columns. In it, once a week, you will find something on the second page called The Spinster Chronicles.”
Hugh’s tone was a tad too dramatic for Tony’s taste, and he really couldn’t understand the need. “So, a column is being published for spinsters?”
“Not for spinsters,” Hugh retorted defensively, “by spinsters. The Spinsters, to be precise. And it’s grown now to the entire page, not just one column. They have a commentary on everything relating to London and Society, men and women, fashions, courtship… As if anybody should listen to them on those topics when they obviously have no success in them. And they are positively ruining London for everyone.”
“Oh, come now…” Tony groaned, folding his arms and smiling a little. “How can one little column ruin anything?”
“Not the column,” Hugh spat, truly upset. “Them! They are interfering in everything! A man can’t get a bit of flirting in with a young woman unless he’s got the most pristine pedigree and behavior ever known to man. They’re encouraging young women to be just as prudish and independent as they are, and I would place money on the notion that they’ve all memorized that dribble from Mary Wollstonecraft.”
Tony hummed a soft laugh. “You speak as if that were a new publication. Young ladies have been reading that for some time now.”
Hugh turned to him, not at all amused. “It is no laughing matter! Thomas Perkins tried to have a go with the second Garnet girl and was herded off as if he were a badly-behaved sheep.”
“If Thomas Perkins is anything like his brother Harry, I’d herd him away from young women too,” Tony quipped, truly finding this whole thing rather amusing.
His cousin seemed to consider that, then made a noise of irritation. “All right, it was a poor example, I grant you, but for the rest of us?” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s impossible, Tony!” Hugh’s brow furrowed, and he stared at him for a long moment.
“What?” Tony asked slowly as suspicion suddenly flooded him. “What are you thinking?”
“You’re bored out of your mind.”
Tony grunted. “And I was trying so hard to hide that, shame you sniffed it out.”
“You could put a stop to this.”
Tony’s humor fled at that, and his smirk faded. “To what?”
“All of this.” Hugh smiled suddenly, and it spread until it filled his entire face. “You could break up the Spinsters.”
It was the most insane proposition he had ever been given, and he began to laugh, not out of humor, as it was the furthest thing from amusing, but out of sheer disbelief at its stupidity. “What?”
Hugh seized his arms in excitement. “It’s a brilliant scheme! You are a soldier who takes orders and dangerous missions.”
“Not so dangerous…”
“You would have dealt with dozens of evil forces.”
“Well, now, as to that…”
“You could disband their little troupe without any trouble whatsoever!” Hugh laughed, squeezing his arms. “It’s a stroke of genius! You can save all of us, Tony!”
“Stop!” he ordered, freeing himself from his cousin’s grasp. “Stop right there. First, it’s a group of young ladies, not a band of French rebels. Second, there is no reason to suppose that what they are doing is causing harm or detriment to anyone and may actually be improving the morality of the upper class. Third, no.”
Hugh tilted his head, confused. “No?”
Tony shook his head very firmly. “No. Absolutely not. I refuse.”
“You can’t!” his cousin gasped. “The gentlemen of London need you, Tony!”
“To save them from a bunch of meddling spinsters?” he asked with all the derision he could muster, which was a sizable amount. “Then the gentlemen of London have grown remarkably soft in my absence. Excuse me.” He gave his cousin a bow and turned to go.
Hugh grabbed his arm, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “Where are you going?
Tony gave him a condescending smile. “To pay my respects to Lady Hetty and ask for an introduction to Miss Westfall. I fancy a dance with a very small goat, and I expect to be quite charmed by her. Perhaps I’ll even marry her and give you more torment for your relations by marriage.”
He shrugged out of Hugh’s hold and strode away, making a direct path for Lady Hetty, who had always slightly terrified him, and for Miss Westfall, who looked as if everything terrified her. He pitied her, poor girl, and her friends had abandoned her yet again, save for Lady Hetty. He might have it in him to give her some enjoyment in the evening, provided she would not fear him. He could be imposing, with his somewhat towering height, but he’d been told he had a kind smile, and he prayed that was still the case.
Even so, he was a soldier, with duty and honor to uphold, he had the uniform to prove it, and if he could do a service to her, he would not feel his evening wasted.
And he would be lying if he said he was not a little curious about the Spinsters, whoever they were, and what they were about.
But that was another matter for another time.
He approached Lady Hetty with caution, a polite smile on his face. “Lady Hetty,” he said reverentially as he bowed before her. “It is an unexpected delight to see you again.”
She peered up at him, her dark eyes twinkling slightly. “Unexpected because you are surprised that you’ve missed me, or unexpected because I’m not dead?”
“Whichever makes you think better of me, madam.”
She wheezed a laugh. “Captain Sterling, you’ve not changed at all, and that’s a fine thing, for a change. Do you know Miss Westfall?” she asked, indicating the girl next to her.
“No, madam, but I would be quite pleased to make her acquaintance, if you’ll give me leave to do so.”