Six

Elisabeth sat in her refurbished library, trying to remember the names of friends of her father with whom she might claim acquaintance. But it had been years since he was in London, and she could recall none. The same was true for Belinda and Tony, and she hesitated to ask Cousin Lavinia. Ames entered the library and announced that she had two callers. She looked up sharply. “Callers? Why, who can they be Ames? We know no one who might be calling.”

Ames handed her a visiting card. “It is the Viscountess Larenby and her daughter, miss,” he replied with a clear consciousness of the sensation he was creating.

Elisabeth was astonished. “The Viscountess Larenby? I’ve never heard of her. What can she want?”

“I don’t know, miss. Perhaps you’d care to ask her yourself? I’ve shown the ladies into the drawing room.”

“Yes, I suppose I must.” She puzzled over the card. “Tell them I’ll be there directly.” She ran quickly up the stairs to her bedroom and surveyed herself in the mirror. She was wearing one of her new gowns, a sprig muslin with long sleeves and a high collar, and Ketchem had recently cut her hair and dressed it in a knot on top of her head with curls falling over her ears. It was quite becoming.

As she was going back downstairs, she stopped to tap on Belinda’s door. The younger girl jumped up excitedly when she heard they had visitors.

Elisabeth entered her drawing room feeling a little nervous, and the sight of the ladies who rose to greet her did nothing to put her at ease. Both were tall and brunette; the elder possessed an impressive dignity and elegance of both dress and air, and the younger was strikingly handsome. They looked much alike—slender with chiseled features and large pale blue eyes startlingly attractive with their dark coloring. Elisabeth felt they surveyed her appraisingly. “How do you do,” she said. “I am Elisabeth Elham. Please sit down; it’s very kind of you to call.”

Her tone and manner seemed to soften the older woman a bit. “Thank you. We’ve taken the first opportunity to do so. We arrived from the country only recently, you see.”

“Oh,” said Elisabeth. “It’s very good of you to come.”

The three women sat down, and a short silence fell. Elisabeth cast about desperately for something to say.

“Your drawing room is lovely,” said the viscountess, looking around at the pale blue walls and darker blue carpet and hangings.

“Thank you,” replied Elisabeth. “I’ve had a great deal to do in the house since I came to London. My uncle left it in a sad state.”

The viscountess smiled slightly. “Yes, his treatment of Willowmere would lead one to expect that.”

“Indeed,” said Elisabeth, eagerly grasping this conversational gambit. “I’ve begun repairs there as well. I think the estate could be quite beautiful if properly cared for. Do you know it?” Here at last seemed to be a clue to her callers’ identity. “You are from that neighborhood?”

Lady Larenby looked surprised. “Yes. Our country place, Charendon, is on the adjoining land.”

“Ah. I am so pleased to make the acquaintance of my neighbors. But you are in London for the season?”

The viscountess nodded. “I am bringing Amelia out this year.” The younger of Elisabeth’s visitors smiled a bit self-consciously.

Elisabeth returned her smile. “My cousin, who will be down in a moment, is also to make her debut.” Amelia murmured some polite nothing. Elisabeth turned back to her mother. “It’s really very kind of you to think of calling on a new neighbor. I know very few people in London as yet.”

Lady Larenby appeared puzzled but made a deprecating gesture. “The season has scarcely started. I’m sure you will meet as many people as you could wish, or more, very soon. I hope you and your cousin will attend a small evening party I’m giving next week to introduce Amelia?”

“Oh, we should be pleased. It is excessively good of you. I am a complete stranger.” She stopped in confusion.

Lady Larenby smiled graciously. “My son spoke highly of you, I hope we may not remain strangers.”

At this further inexplicable remark, Elisabeth gave it up. “Your son?” she asked.

Once more, the viscountess looked startled. She glanced fleetingly at her daughter, but found no help there. “Yes, my son Derek,” she added. As Elisabeth continued to gaze at her uncomprehendingly, she went on, “Derek Wincannon, my son. He told us that he had met you. Did that graceless creature not tell you we would call? He reminded me often enough, I promise you.”

Elisabeth’s brow cleared, and she laughed. “Oh, dear,” she replied. “I’d completely forgotten my encounter with Mr. Wincannon. And he certainly did not tell me he was a viscount,” she finished severely.

“Well, he isn’t as yet, you know,” said Lady Larenby, her eyes dancing. “He is only a Right Honorable. My husband is Viscount Larenby.”

“How scatterbrained you must think me!” Elisabeth said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t understand who you were, and I was desperately trying to gather clues from your conversation.” Her expression invited them to share her laugh at herself, and both ladies smiled.

“I should have written a note,” replied Lady Larenby. “But I assure you that my heedless son gave us to understand you were expecting us. He will hear of this.” She also shook her head.

“And I thought it a mere polite nothing when he said his mother would call on me.” Elisabeth met the viscountess’s twinkling eyes, and they shared a moment of helpless resignation at the unfathomable ways of men.

Just then, Belinda came into the drawing room. She had changed into a dress of crisp white muslin trimmed with knots of blue ribbon, and a blue riband was threaded through her curls, which had been, like Elisabeth’s, recently cut and dressed by Ketchem. Elisabeth introduced her, and she sat down next to Miss Wincannon. The conversation faltered for a moment, then Amelia complimented Belinda on her gown and asked where she’d had it made. When Belinda replied that she had made it herself, Amelia was suitably impressed, and the two young girls embarked on an extended discussion of the latest modes.

The viscountess smiled at them benignly. “They look to be of an age,” she said, turning to Elisabeth. “Amelia is just eighteen, and she’s chiefly interested in her dresses at this period in her life.”

“Belinda is the same,” smiled Elisabeth.

“She is a lovely girl.” And indeed the pair sitting across from them made a striking picture. Amelia’s dark, but brilliant coloring set off Belinda’s paleness to a nicety and vice versa. They were a study in contrasts. Lady Larenby lifted an eyebrow. “I remember when I was Amelia’s age my best friend was a blond.” She smiled and cocked her head as Elisabeth laughed appreciatively. “You said your cousin was to come out. Will you not be making your bow to society as well this year?”

“Oh, I shall accompany Belinda, but I am past the age for a come-out, I fear.”

The viscountess’s eyes twinkled. “Indeed? I took you for a girl in her twenties. How easily one may be mistaken about these things.”

“Well, it is not my age precisely. I’ve lived on my own these five years, you see, supporting myself as a teacher at Bath. And my feelings and behavior are now very far removed from those of a girl just coming out. I should not be ‘right.’ Belinda is the one to make a success in that line.”

“I predict you will both take the ton by storm,” replied the viscountess. There was a short pause, then she continued hesitantly. “You have not concluded, I hope, that because of your experience as a teacher you can serve as Belinda’s only chaperone? Forgive me, but it would not do. You are really not of an age to live alone in London.”

“So I have been told,” answered Elisabeth wryly. “And you may be easy on that head. Besides Belinda’s brother and his very large dog, we are chaperoned by Cousin Lavinia. Oh dear, I’ve forgotten to ask her to come to the drawing room.”

Lady Larenby laughed at her patent dismay. “Cousin Lavinia?” she echoed encouragingly.

Elisabeth looked toward the door. “I really should go fetch her. She is one of my mother’s family, Lavinia Ottley. She is much older than I.”

This disjointed explanation appeared to interest her guest. “Was your mother Elisabeth Ottley? I didn’t know. We came out in the same season, years ago.”

“Really? Yes, she was my mother; she died when I was very young. Did you know her well?”

“Alas, no. Though I believe we did meet once or twice, we never became friends. And after her marriage…” She stopped, looking embarrassed.

Elisabeth nodded. “Her family cast her off, and she went to live in the country.”

“There were many who thought them very wrong to treat her so.”

The girl shrugged. “It matters little now.” She shifted in her seat. “I really should find Cousin Lavinia,” she repeated. But she made no move; she felt a little nervous of introducing her odd relative to her visitors.

To her relief, Lady Larenby rose. “I’m afraid we must be going now. We shall hope to meet her soon. Do bring her to call.” With some difficulty, she pulled Amelia away from an intense discussion of the relative merits of braid trim and ribbons, and the two took their leave, promising to send round a card of invitation for the evening party.

Just after they left, Cousin Lavinia bustled into the room. Immediately, Elisabeth felt guilty, but it appeared that Lavinia had only just returned from a walk. She held a small piece of notepaper in her hand. “Well, you will never guess,” she fluttered. “I have just received this note from my distinctive friend Judith.” She waved the paper about. “We were in school together, you know, oh, many years ago now, and then she went off to make a grand marriage. A very grand marriage, my dear. Of course, Judith was an exceptionable girl. So lovely, with those great dark eyes, and very intelligent, though not in the least ‘blue,’ I assure you. Her father was rich as Midas. Not that she wouldn’t have married well otherwise, but her portion was very large.”

“She’s written to you?” put in Elisabeth, seeking to stem this flow of information.

“Oh, yes. We corresponded faithfully for several years, you know, but then gradually, we got out of the habit. It’s sad how often that happens, isn’t it? One’s very closest friends drift away, and soon one knows no more about them than any stranger.” She appeared to sink into melancholy reflection at this observation.

Elisabeth prompted her. “But she has written you once again.”

Lavinia started. “Oh. Yes. Yes, indeed. I thought of her straightaway when I saw you’d come up against a cult-de-sock in London. I hoped she might introduce us to her acquaintances, you know, and here she’s written that she means to call. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Splendid,” replied Elisabeth. “You shouldn’t have troubled, Cousin Lavinia.”

“Oh my, no trouble at all. It will be so magnetic to see Judith again. I’m sure you will like her. And anything I can do, you know, anything at all, to repay your kindness to me, why, I should be the most ungracious creature in nature if I didn’t leap to do it. And such a simple pleasant thing as this. You know, Elisabeth…” But they were not to hear what Elisabeth knew, for at that moment Ames entered the drawing room.

“The Duchess of Sherbourne,” he announced impressively, ushering a diminutive gray-haired woman into the room.

Elisabeth and Belinda stared incredulously, first at Ames, then at the visitor, and their mouths dropped slightly open. But Cousin Lavinia bustled forward joyously. “Judith!” she cried. “How gratuitous. We were just speaking of you.”

It took the two younger women a moment to recover from their astonishment. By the time they’d done so, they’d been introduced to the duchess, and she was sitting on the sofa beside Lavinia chatting happily of their school days together. Elisabeth watched them with a mixture of amazement and mirth as she berated herself for her snobbish underestimation of her cousin.

At a pause in their conversation, the duchess remarked, “So, Lavinia, you’re bringing out your young cousins this season?”

“Yes,” responded Lavinia complacently. “I should think they will ‘take.’”

“Oh, no question of that. They’re lovely. I’ll get you vouchers for Almack’s from Sally Jersey, if you like. And I’ll send my son round.” She chuckled. “He’s something of a slowtop, but he is a duke, after all.” She looked Elisabeth and Belinda over more carefully; Elisabeth struggled not to laugh as she endured this scrutiny. “Yes,” she continued finally, “they’ll do. Shall I give a ball for them, Lavinia?”

“Oh, Your Grace!” murmured Belinda, dazzled.

The duchess gave a bark of laughter. “I shall,” she decided. “I never had a daughter. I’ll take them under my wing.”

“Very kind of you, Judith,” replied Lavinia. “I hoped you might just give them a push, you know. Introduce them to some of the indispensable people.”

“You mustn’t put yourself to any trouble,” interjected Elisabeth. She felt she must put a damper on these plans before she was engulfed by the powerful personality of the duchess.

This lady looked at her with greater interest. “So you’re old Elham’s niece,” she said. “You don’t much resemble him. Which is fortunate,” she added dryly. “The man was a clutch-fisted croaker from the time he was twenty. And no beauty.” She directed a sharp glance at Elisabeth. “So you don’t want me meddling in your affairs, eh?”

Elisabeth felt herself blushing, and she heard a choking gasp from Belinda. “Oh, I didn’t say…I never meant,” she began, but the duchess interrupted.

“I have a very good idea what you meant. You haven’t learned to guard your tone of voice.” Her expression softened, and she smiled winningly. “And I can understand why you might object to my somewhat toplofty offer. But I know the ton and London pretty well after thirty years, and my position is considerable.” Her eyes twinkled. “You may ask anyone. It would be a coup for you to make your debut under my sponsorship.” She looked wickedly at Elisabeth. “And I understand you know no one else.”

Elisabeth was beginning to like the duchess, but she couldn’t let this opportunity pass. “Actually,” she answered, brushing a bit of fluff from her skirt with studied unconcern, “I have a small acquaintance. The Viscountess Larenby and her daughter have just this moment taken their leave. She was kind enough to call as soon as she returned to town.” She heard another stifled gasp from Belinda, but Elisabeth looked steadily at the duchess, sternly ordering her twitching lips not to betray her.

“A hit,” cried the duchess, “a palpable hit. I am quite set down. But this only makes me the more determined to sponsor you, my child. I declare you’re a wit.” The laugh died, and her expression became benevolently serious. “I shan’t try to run you, Elisabeth. I hope I may call you Elisabeth? But I promise I can help, and I should like to, both for Lavinia’s sake and your own.” Her eyes lit again. “If you knew how abominably bored I’ve been these past two years,” she added, “you could not be so disobliging as to deny me a little amusement.”

Elisabeth bowed her head. “That would be shockingly rude of me,” she replied.

“Good. It’s settled then. I shall plan my ball.” The duchess’s wicked smile reappeared. “Now where can you have met the Wincannons, I wonder?” she mused.

Elisabeth smiled. “They are our neighbors in the country,” she replied smoothly. “Their land adjoins Willowmere.” Her gaze met the duchess’s innocently.

“I daresay,” responded the older woman. She gazed at Elisabeth speculatively for a moment, then turned back to Lavinia. “And now, I must go, my friend. I’m sorry to hurry off, but I’m promised to my sister for tea.”

“Oh, dear,” answered Lavinia. “I hoped you would stay to take tea with us. Is it Alice or Arabella?” she added, evidently in reference to the sister.

“Arabella,” was the reply. “Alice has lived in Northumberland these fifteen years, Lavinia.”

When Lavinia had agreed that she remembered this, they said their farewells, and the duchess departed. It was indeed nearly teatime, and Ames brought in the tray just as Tony strolled into the drawing room. He’d been out all day and was full of news. Not only had he found a stout chain for Growser, he’d fallen in with some fellow canine-fanciers at the shop where he purchased it. They’d exchanged views on the various breeds of hunting dog and the best means of training them, and Tony was completely engrossed in a scheme for educating Growser in the intricacies of the chase.

Belinda soon grew impatient with this recital. “What can it signify?” she snapped finally. “He will never be more than a mongrel, after all. I don’t see that it matters whether he is trained. But, oh, Tony, you will never guess what has happened to us today.”

Tony’s lip curled. “You bought a new ribbon, I suppose. Or found some rubbishy novel at the circulating library.”

Belinda’s chin went up. “No such thing. We met a duchess.” She awaited his reaction; when he said nothing, she added, “And a viscountess.”

Tony shrugged, unimpressed. “Well, I met a man who runs prizefights,” he replied. “And you may be sure I had liefer go to one than meet some starched-up duchess.”

Belinda sniffed. “You are such a fool, Tony. I can’t think how I came to have such a brother. Don’t you see that this could be the making of us in London society?”

Her brother shrugged again. “I don’t care. I’m not certain I mean to go about in society as yet. Frankly, I find it a dead bore.”

With an angry shake of her head, Belinda turned away. Tony grinned at Elisabeth. “I shall take Growser to the park tomorrow,” he told her. “There are several things I wish to try. Elkins says one may teach a dog to keep the scent with beefsteak. Do you think I might borrow some from the kitchen, Cousin Elisabeth?”

Elisabeth laughed. “No. Under no circumstances can you borrow it. But you may tell Cook I said you could have a bit, if there is any to spare. Don’t tease her to death, mind.”

“Oh, no,” answered Tony gratefully, showing signs of wishing to descend to the kitchens immediately.

“Such a splendid notion,” put in Lavinia, “educating your dog. My father abrocated education for every member of the household, you know. He felt it to be absolutely vital. I remember I had a cat when I was small. A beautiful tortoiseshell. So affectionate. Well, my father would have it that she was lazy, though she was nothing of the kind, I assure you. But he held that she must be trained as a mouser. Well, at first, he was at a loss. I mean, how does one teach a cat, after all? Such indivertible animals, are they not? But at last, he hit upon a scheme. He procured two field mice, you see, and cunning little things they were, too, so tiny, and he put them…”

Elisabeth gradually ceased to attend to her cousin’s chatter. She let out a deep sigh, leaned back on the sofa, and sipped her tea meditatively. Her final problem appeared to be solved in a manner far beyond her modest expectations. She now had two exalted acquaintances in London, one of whom threatened to overwhelm her with kind attentions, and the process of entering society seemed assured. Why then did she feel so breathlessly unsettled? She shook her head. Perhaps because it had all happened so fast, she thought. Events had begun to have a momentum of their own, and the independence her inheritance was to have brought her seemed to have vanished in a single day.