Chapter Five
True understanding requires complete openness in conversation and a willingness to listen intently. Without either of those, hope is lost. If, however, partial understanding is all that is required, one must only share what one wishes to share, and listen with politeness. Respond when it is required. Nod on occasion. And then promptly forget the whole thing.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 30 June 1817
Life was bound to change once he had gotten himself accepted into the Spinsters, but Tony hadn’t really anticipated exactly how much.
The first thing to go had been formality, and he chafed at the idea. He wasn’t stuffy, and had no compunction against familiarity, but it was one thing to be able to call at someone’s home when one wished and another to be able to call someone by whatever name one wished. He doubted it would ever be natural for him to call any of them by their shortened names, but it was especially awkward when they had not been acquainted for long.
“There’s no point in following polite rules of Society,” Charlotte had told him the day before. “We’ve transcended all the rest, so why not do away with that as well?”
“But won’t it raise suspicions if I call you Charlotte instead of Miss Wright?” he’d asked in confusion. “People do love to gossip.”
She snorted softly. “They do, and they will, but not because you call me Charlotte. Loads of people call me Charlotte, and without my permission. They’ll talk because you are being seen with the Spinsters, and no one will know what to make of that.”
Tony had already determined that he was not going to be effusive with any of the girls, nor was he going to sit around with them as if he were one of them. He was going to behave just as he always had, and as any particular situation called for. He was not joining the Spinsters; he was only investigating them. Helping them, if he had to, and quite honestly, amusing himself.
He would do all in his power to limit any conversation connecting him to them, not because he was ashamed or wanted to hide it, but because he didn’t think it needed to be talked about. They certainly didn’t need to be talked about more than they already were, and he refused to give Society reason to increase that.
Most of the Spinsters had insisted that he call them by their Christian names, with the only exception being Miss Westfall, who was too shy to do anything remotely resembling an encouragement of familiarity. While he knew her name was Prudence, and the others called her Prue, he would not until she was more comfortable. He may think of her that way, but he could not, in good conscience, verbalize it.
Miss Allen appeared to be ambivalent to absolutely everything where he was concerned. She’d frowned a little at everyone offering up their Christian names for him, and only shrugged when the others suggested she do the same. It was not a refusal, but it certainly was not encouragement. He might prod her, though, and test her proprietary bounds where familiarity was concerned. He rather liked her name and found himself trying not to smile whenever someone said “Georgie”.
He, of course, had given them all power to call him whatever they wished, whether that be Captain or Sterling or Tony. He did insist on never being Anthony, however, as only Miranda called him that, and only when she was being cross or superior.
They were all agreed, however, that propriety must be observed in public settings. They did have a reputation to live up to, and they really ought not to scandalize everyone when they were trying so hard to be of use to them.
The other thing that had struck Tony about being so adopted by the group was that his social calendar suddenly became quite demanding. He wouldn’t have thought it, but this particular group of spinsters, no capital S required, was highly sought-after and were invited to practically everything. Not necessarily all of them, but between the group, there were opportunities everywhere.
And when one or two were invited, they were sure to have Tony added to the list of invitees. He’d told them it wasn’t necessary, as he was quite able to obtain his own invitations, but they insisted it was no trouble. Miranda and his aunt Arabella had trained him long ago to never argue with women, and Tony was convinced he had lived a much longer life than he would have otherwise by adhering to that wisdom.
This morning, for example, he was to attend a small garden party hosted by Mr. and Mrs. Galbraith, whose two grown daughters were catching the eye of every eligible man in England, not just London, and they were being notoriously conservative about which of those gentlemen they admitted into their acquaintance. It was astonishing enough that Tony had managed to be so included, let alone that he had managed by himself. He attributed that small victory to the fact that Mr. Galbraith had been a military man, and they had been introduced a few days before the invitations had been sent out.
No doubt they were hoping that an honorable man with a similar military background would jump at the chance to make a match with one of their daughters.
They would undoubtedly be mistaken.
There was yet another shift in his life that association with the Spinsters had brought him rather quickly. He could no longer make his own impressions about people in Society, as he would be given a complete profile and background on any individual of interest. He had been fully briefed on both Galbraith sisters in the days before the party, as well as who their most likely suitors were, and their profiles as well.
He knew far more about the regular members of Society than he suspected anyone else did within their circles, and he was beyond impressed with the skills of his newfound associates. If all of this turned out to be as accurate as he suspected it was, he would have to consider recommending them to the Home and Foreign Offices as potential operatives.
He pulled up to the Galbraith home and was shown in without question or a word of greeting, once his invitation had been presented. After a silent march behind the designated servant along two different corridors, he was brought out to the terrace, in full view of all the other guests.
Mr. and Mrs. Galbraith awaited him, smiling warmly. That confirmed his suspicions. They wanted him for their daughters.
A pity, that. The girls had made him so aware of the nature of the Galbraith daughters that, although well-bred and well-off, he had no desire to pursue either of them. And if what he had heard of the sisters was true, they would not want him either.
Still, politeness was important.
Tony smiled as he bowed in greeting to his hosts, made polite conversation for the briefest of moments, then proceeded forth as the other guests were doing. Only now most of the guests were staring at him.
Brilliant.
He exhaled slowly, carefully maintaining his pleasant demeanor, and searched for anyone he knew. Conversation would be key for making the staring cease, unless he spoke with someone rather shocking.
That ruled out any of the Spinsters, then. At least for the first few minutes.
What he wouldn’t give to have some of his friends and comrades here now. Henshaw, at least, would have been a comfort and found amusement in it. Morton would have been just as uncomfortable as Tony was, but he would have come anyway. He would have been pleased to see either of them, probably more than he ever had in his life.
He took a glass of punch from a footman’s tray with a nod, then moved in the direction of the other guests, not quite knowing his destination.
His cousins were not here.
He couldn’t talk to the Spinsters yet.
Which left…
Lady Hetty.
Perfect.
She watched him come, as there really was no mistaking the fact that he was heading in her direction. She had no one directly around her, and it was clear she did not care one whit about it. The teacup and saucer in her hand were carefully placed on the small table beside her while she shook her head slowly from side to side.
“Hopeless,” she croaked, coughing slightly. “Absolutely hopeless.”
“What is hopeless, my lady?” Tony asked after bowing politely.
Lady Hetty gave him a droll sort of look that was impossible to mistake. “You are hopeless, Captain.”
Tony smiled in spite of himself. “Am I? How so?”
“You did not come to a garden party to converse with a crotchety old spinster like me, and yet here you are.” She waved a hand at him wildly. “Conversing with me, despite the fact that no one else is doing so.”
“Perhaps I like conversing with you, Lady Hetty,” he offered mildly, “despite your self-proclaimed crotchety spinster state.”
She coughed once in disbelief and reached for her tea again. “Nobody likes conversing with me, Captain Sterling.”
He shook his head at her. “Not true. I could make a list of people who do enjoy conversing with you.”
“They’d all be lying.”
“Not all, surely.” He looked around and saw Izzy not too far away. “I’m sure Miss Lambert enjoys conversing with you.”
“She doesn’t count,” Lady Hetty protested with a snort. “She probably enjoys conversing with everyone.”
Tony bit back a laugh at that, because it was so true. Izzy was a very agreeable person, and she was far too kind to ever pretend that she found anyone otherwise. He suspected she was not quite so nice as everyone believed her to be, but she was not doing anything to alter that perception of her.
“You should go speak with her,” Lady Hetty continued after taking a careful sip of her tea. “She would enjoy that.”
“But you just said she enjoys conversing with everyone,” Tony reminded her. “That’s not much to induce me to join the throng.”
Lady Hetty scowled at him. “You will never marry if you talk like that. And you will never marry if you stand here speaking to me.”
Tony shrugged and sipped his punch. “At the moment, marriage is not of great concern to me. Perhaps I will just marry you, my lady.”
That made the older woman laugh heartily and drew several pairs of eyes in their direction.
“Oh, Captain Sterling,” Lady Hetty said, once she had recovered herself. “That would not help your case at all.”
Tony sighed heavily. “So, I shouldn’t ask for your hand?”
She beamed at him, her lined face creasing further still. “No, indeed, but you have earned the seat beside me, should you wish it.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you, my lady. I do.” He took the indicated seat and crossed one leg over the other, surveying the gathering. A few still stared at him, wondering at his choice in companion at the moment, no doubt, but the rest seemed to mind their own business.
The Galbraith daughters were surrounded, as they ought to have been, though it did not appear that there were any forerunners for the position of husband to either.
“So, who will win out, do you think?” Tony asked her, indicating the group with a nod.
Lady Hetty snorted softly. “None of those fools, I can promise you that. They may appear to be fine candidates on paper, but the reality is far less enticing.”
“The girls or the men?”
Lady Hetty hummed an almost laugh. “Cheeky, Sterling. That will do.”
“For what?”
“Your own prospects.”
Tony gave her a wry look. “I have none.”
She returned his look very frankly. “An attractive army captain who earned a pretty penny from his service? I’d call those some fair prospects.”
He rolled his eyes a little, smiling. “I mean potential candidates, my lady. I have none. I am not looking.”
“Well, they are, so you’d better watch your step.” She took up her tea again, making a face. “This isn’t that good. I would have thought Lucinda Galbraith capable of better.”
Tony was almost taken aback by that. Not that Lady Hetty saying such a thing was so extreme, for it really was quite tame for her, but the idea that a woman should be capable of a better tea. Was that a mark that ought to have distinguished a woman?
Whether or not Miranda’s tea had ever been noteworthy wasn’t something he had ever noticed, he just drank it.
Who noticed things like that?
“Why should Mrs. Galbraith do better?” Tony asked, puzzled by the thought. “Is the tea that bad?”
Lady Hetty shook her head, frowning at him. “No, it isn’t. It’s simply not that good.”
“And Mrs. Galbraith?”
“She was the most accomplished girl in her time,” Lady Hetty explained, leaning closer to impart the secret. “Everybody said so, and she never refuted it.”
“And making a good tea is a mark of accomplishment?”
Lady Hetty reared back, her expression almost scandalized. “Good heavens, man, are you really so ignorant as to what makes a woman accomplished?”
Tony chuckled helplessly and shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t think so, but apparently I’ve missed a few marks there. Tell me, then, and relieve me of my ignorance.”
“Making tea isn’t an obvious accomplishment, I grant you,” Lady Hetty commented with a soft grunt of approval. “It is simply one of the finer points. Any woman can be taught to dance or to sing or to draw, and the intelligent ones may speak French or German, if not both. Any accomplished girl will possess the appropriate mannerisms, poise, and comportment, while the truly gifted may also have grace, and elegance.”
“And all of that is supposed to be customary?” Tony inquired, no longer quite so amused.
She nodded, giving him a wry look. “You truly know nothing of accomplished women?”
Tony smiled apologetically. “I have no sisters, Lady Hetty, and my stepmother never said anything on the subject. I do have one female cousin, but I have always considered her a child in my mind, so I cannot say anything about her accomplishment other than the fact that she apparently is so.” His smile turned wry. “I think you will find that most men know absolutely nothing about what makes a woman really accomplished.”
“Well, that’s no surprise, is it?” Lady Hetty cackled a laugh to herself, seeming quite pleased with her wit. “Any woman can be accomplished, Captain, and on paper, so many are. But it is really in the finer details that you will find the important matters.”
“As in a good tea?” he suggested, not bothering to hide the note of derision.
She looked back at him, trying not to smile. “Now you are teasing me, Captain.”
“I would never.”
“Oh, you would, and it is one of your own finer points.” She patted his hand warmly. “You’re not puffed up like so many other men of your age and station. A more ridiculous conglomeration of pincushions I haven’t seen in years.”
“One would ask how many,” Tony murmured with a smile, “but I am not so naïve.”
Lady Hetty ignored that comment, as was undoubtedly too kind. “You should be associating with more young people, Captain Sterling, not wasting your time on an old woman like me.”
Tony grinned at her, even though she was frowning now. “Perhaps I enjoy your company, my lady.”
“Be that as it may,” she scolded, her eyes twinkling despite her frown, “we can do better for you. Go and speak to someone within a decade of your age.”
“That would require me to be acquainted with anyone present that met those conditions,” Tony sighed. “Alas, I am not. My cousins are not here, nor is your friend Miss Westfall. I haven’t made many acquaintances since my arrival, and I cannot say that I am particularly social. I haven’t even been introduced to the Galbraith daughters, only the father and mother.”
“It is not worth being acquainted with the daughters,” Lady Hetty assured him with another pat to his hand. “Lacking in more of those finer points I mentioned, despite being accomplished enough. Too brash, too silly, and too comfortable with their fine way of life. And I can say this, being a relation.”
“Are you really?” he asked with interest. “I had no idea.”
She nodded, pursing her lips a little. “I’m a cousin of Mr. Galbraith, though not from the side of the family with ties to the peerage, much to their dismay. Not that it stops them from claiming to be cousins of the Duke of Rothsbury. Thirty years ago, it was true, but my brother couldn’t figure out how to produce legitimate offspring, and so the title fell to our cousin and his heirs, who reproduce remarkably well.” Lady Hetty shook her head in disgust. “He had one duty to see to that mattered, and he couldn’t manage it. Poor Henry.”
Sensing she was rapidly losing track of the conversation at hand, Tony cleared his throat. “So, you maintain this connection with the Galbraiths?”
Lady Hetty looked over at him as if she had forgotten he was there. “Someone has to remind them of the true nature of their station. And, as you see, I am still invited out of politeness. I am their only distinguished relation remaining. Why else do you think I would have come to this silly soirée of theirs? Family duty. Now I needn’t attend at Christmas, for which I am vastly relieved.”
Tony coughed a laugh into his fist. There was something utterly refreshing about holding a conversation with a woman who had no false modesty or reserve, who had no qualms about saying exactly what she thought and did not care what anybody else thought. Granted, he was quite sure that Lady Hetty had not been nearly so outspoken in her younger years, no matter what degree of cynicism her thoughts might have carried. Age had emboldened her, as did her comfortable station in life.
Some found her to be somewhat tyrannical and intolerable, but Tony rather liked her frankness and open temperament. She did not tolerate fools, nor did she hesitate to identify them, and that alone made her a favorite of his.
It helped that his stepmother had always admired Lady Hetty and had frequently said so. As Tony had always regarded Miranda as someone worthy of admiration, her good opinion carried much weight with him.
And thus, Lady Hetty would as well.
“Give me your opinion, then, Lady Hetty,” Tony murmured, leaning forward to speak further in confidence. “Whom should I bring into my acquaintance at this gathering?”
She glanced around the garden with a speculative look. “Well, there’s not many, I can tell you that. My relations have always allowed the most peculiar mixture of people into their society. I am far more selective.”
That was certainly putting it mildly, but Tony thought it best not to bring that up.
“Hmm.” Lady Hetty’s eyes narrowed as she continued to scan the gathering. “Mr. Sandford is a fair fellow. Quiet man, which speaks well of him, but very polite, which says nothing at all. You could liven him up, I have no doubt.”
“Thank you for your vote of confidence,” Tony muttered.
“Mr. Shaw would be your sort,” Lady Hetty went on without marking him. “Agreeable man, and the younger brother of Lord Radcliffe. Keeps to himself, tends to his duties, and doesn’t mind talking with the old women. Probably because his aunt is one, and he dotes on her prodigiously, but we mustn’t fault him for Augusta. And he also seems entirely uninterested in marriage, which would make the two of you quite a pair.”
Tony looked at the man she was indicating, who stood just outside of a group of people without looking as though he were being excluded. He could have taken two steps to his left and been in their midst, and yet he remained where he was, his expression one of careful vacancy. There was no telling what he thought, but he did not look particularly displeased.
He knew nothing of Shaw, but he did look like the sort of man Tony had come to appreciate, the sort of man who would be a wise and intelligent man of sense.
He’d consider that one.
“But as for the women…” Lady Hetty continued, her tone turning more intrigued.
“Don’t go selecting potential wives for me, Lady Hetty,” Tony warned. “I get enough of that from Miranda and my cousin, Lady Sterling. I couldn’t bear it from you as well.”
Lady Hetty turned her gaze to him, quirking a brow. “You don’t have to marry them, Captain, but it wouldn’t hurt you to talk to them. And you’ll have far less rumors floating around about you if you do. Otherwise people will wonder what in the world is wrong with you.”
This really was too much, and it was all Tony could do to keep from laughing. “Well, we couldn’t have that.”
“Certainly not.” Lady Hetty rapped her walking stick on the ground then. “Come, take me for a stroll, Captain. I shall make your introductions.”
“Oh, no, Lady Hetty,” Tony protested at once. “I couldn’t. You must sit here and take your ease.”
She wagged a ringed finger under his nose suddenly. “Don’t you say one word about my age or condition, Captain Sterling. I am still on this earth and I will continue to act as though I am. I’m not asking you to drive me around in a phaeton. Walk me around the garden.”
Tony knew better than to argue with a woman possibly twice his age about what she could and could not do. He rose and held out his hand, which she promptly took, hauling herself out of the chair with his aid. She nodded, looped her hand through his arm, and indicated that they should move on.
Despite her small frame and increasing years, Lady Hetty had lost none of her posture. She still held her head high, glided as proudly as any fine woman, and Tony was positive that if he let her walk on her own, she would have done so without any tremor or unsteadiness in her step. She dipped her chin with surprising modesty when acknowledged by others, yet at the same time she lost none of her poise.
“Not there,” she suddenly barked, yanking on his arm a little. “I don’t want to endure Mrs. Davies or her insipid daughter, and neither do you.”
“Apologies,” Tony said in a quiet voice, keeping his smile polite. “Where do you suggest we go?”
She pointed her walking stick towards a small group near a carefully trimmed hedge. “That’s a sensible group. Take me there.”
Tony steered her in the direction she’d indicated. “What makes that particular group sensible?” he inquired.
“Miss Allen is part of it,” Lady Hetty said bluntly. “She brings good sense everywhere.”
That hadn’t exactly been Tony’s experience with her, but he wasn’t about to bring that up. “Does she, indeed?”
“Do you know Miss Allen?” Lady Hetty asked in return, no doubt hearing the doubtful note he failed to hide.
“A very little,” he admitted. “That is… We have been introduced.”
His response was apparently lacking, for Lady Hetty grunted softly to herself. “And you said you were not acquainted with anyone here. So like a man. You mark my words, Captain Sterling, you couldn’t do better for a wife than Georgiana Allen.”
“I am sure she is a very…”
“And I do mean you, sir,” she interrupted, intentionally stabbing his toe with her walking stick. “I’m not speaking generally. You, sir, could not do better.”
Tony chewed his lip in irritation, wishing he had chosen to stand alone in a small patch of sunlight instead of conversing with Lady Hetty. Curse his unsuspecting naïveté. Of course she would be a champion for Georgie; they were so alike in temperament and wit.
But to choose him specifically? For her? It was beyond anything.
“Then it is fortunate that you are taking me there, my lady,” Tony managed to say, giving her a wry look, “so that I may plead my case to her.”
Lady Hetty chuckled and grinned up at him. “As I said, cheeky. You’ll do well for her. But you’ll have to wear her down first, Captain. She’s a mite feisty.”
Tony smirked as he looked over at the group, now aware of their approach, and at Georgie herself, who was watching him come with disapproval and warning.
“Feisty, you say?” Tony murmured. “Dear me.”
They were upon the group now, and Lady Hetty gave him a fair introduction to all present, ending, ironically enough, with Georgie.
“And I believe you are acquainted with Miss Allen, Captain,” she said, smiling almost dotingly at Georgie.
“We are, my lady, a little,” Tony replied, bowing politely to Georgie. “How are you, Miss Allen?”
“Well enough, Captain, thank you,” Georgie told him, somehow managing not to snarl, though he suspected she was dismembering him in her mind. “The day is a trifle warm for my taste.”
He nodded knowingly, composing his features into utter politeness. “It is rather, is it not? I do feel so for you ladies in all your finery, coming out in weather such as this. It must be positively plaguing to you all.”
The other ladies in the group smile and blushed, while the men looked as though they had never considered that but decided to be sympathetic anyway.
“That’s not the only plaguing thing,” Georgie muttered, picking at her white muslin skirts.
“Captain, did you see much of the war when you were in the army?” one of the girls asked with an unmistakable glint in her eyes. “It all sounds very heroic.”
Tony shook his head. “No, ma’am, I did not. We had our share of scuffles, to be sure, but the true heroes were in other companies than mine and are far better men.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Georgie added under her breath, coughing and smiling for effect.
“Why do you not wear your regimentals, Captain?” Miss Wells asked, though her arm was linked through a slender man beside her. “They are so very fine.”
“Not that fine,” came Georgie’s retort with another light cough.
Tony turned to her with a concerned look. “Miss Allen, are you well? Come, let me take you for a glass of lemonade.”
Georgie glared at him, but she knew better than to snap at him when he had personally addressed her. She gave him a false smile. “Thank you, Captain.”
He turned to the man beside him. “Mr. Greensley, would you see to Lady Hetty? I hate to abandon her.”
Greensley, surprisingly, did not seem to mind at all. He seemed close to grinning outright. “Indeed, sir. I shall offer my arm.” He did so, smiling now at Lady Hetty.
“As if that’s a comfort,” Lady Hetty grumbled, taking his arm and smiling anyway.
Tony offered his now free arm to Georgie, and she reluctantly took it, letting him steer her away.
“Claws in, for heaven’s sake,” Tony muttered through a smile. “No one else needs to know of your spite.”
Georgie’s jaw tightened, and she looked up at him furiously. “You used Lady Hetty to make friends? My spite for that knows no levels.”
Tony sighed patiently, nodding at the passing Galbraiths. “I happen to like Lady Hetty a great deal. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable.”
“She is seventy years old!” Georgie protested as they reached the punch, reaching for a glass despite his offer.
“And still more enjoyable to associate with than you…” he mused.
She whirled to him with a gasp. “I am perfectly pleasant!”
Tony gave her a look. “You’ve yet to be pleasant with me, Miss Allen, and unless you are prepared to make introductions for me yourself and prove me wrong, I will continue to use the only allies I currently have. No matter what age.”
Georgie stared at him for a long moment, her wide green eyes turbulent. “I find you perfectly insufferable,” she muttered.
Tony shrugged. “We all strive for perfection in some way. It’s a pleasure to know I’ve attained mine.”
That amused her, he could see, though she tried desperately to hide it.
He offered his arm, which she took without reluctance this time, and led her back. “You can laugh, you know,” he whispered loudly. “It won’t offend me or anyone else here to see you laugh. Go on, laugh. It was quite a clever comeback.”
“You are ruining it,” she retorted softly, fighting a smile.
Tony smiled down at her. “Well, that’s no surprise, is it?”
Georgie nodded thoughtfully, and then smiled back. “No, it really isn’t, Captain.”