Lady Lavinia's Match Read online

  ‘No, I just did it. It is meant for A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’

  ‘Yes, I can see it would do very well for that, but that doesn’t explain why you decided to do it.’

  ‘Mama, you remember the Thespian Players coming to Risley earlier this year?’

  ‘Yes. The Duke allowed them to put a tent up in one of the meadows, I recall.’

  ‘It gave me an idea. I should like to put on a play for our friends and acquaintances and donate the entrance money to the orphanage fund.’

  ‘Oh, I see. It is very commendable, Vinny dear, but have you thought about all the work involved? Where would you find a tent, for a start, and where could you pitch it, considering we are in London, quite apart from providing costumes and seating and finding people to act in it?’

  ‘They are not insurmountable problems. And I did not think we should need a tent, we could use this ballroom…’

  ‘Vinny, I am not at all sure your father would allow that.’

  ‘He would if you asked him. It would only be for one night and we would charge an astronomical amount to come in, so it would be very select. No riff-raff. I have worked it all out, expenditure and income, just as you taught me.’

  Frances smiled. ‘Oh, I have no doubt you have and now you think you can wind me round your thumb and make a conspirator of me.’

  ‘Oh, it will be such fun! Do say you agree.’

  ‘I shall have to think about it. Whom else do you plan to involve?’

  ‘James—’

  ‘James?’ she queried in surprise. ‘Has he agreed?’

  ‘Not exactly, but he will,’ she said confidently. ‘And then there is Duncan and Constance…’ She reeled off a list of her friends, being careful not to mention Lancelot Greatorex. ‘Augusta and her two little ones, who would make beautiful fairies, if they can be schooled in their parts…’ Augusta was James’s sister. She was married to Sir Richard Harnham and had two delightful children, Andrew and Beth.

  ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a difficult play for amateurs, Vinny.’

  ‘Oh, I plan to condense it. If I leave out the play within the play and stick to the love story, I shall not need so many players. I might even try and simplify the language and set it in modern times.’

  ‘Might you, indeed!’ Her stepmother laughed. ‘You are certainly not lacking in pluck if you imagine you can improve on Shakespeare.’

  ‘So you do agree?’

  ‘Vinny, I commend your enthusiasm, I really do, but you know there is so much going on in town this summer, I cannot help but feel you will be playing to an empty room.’

  ‘No, for we shall do it after all the fuss over the coronation is over.’

  ‘But that is not until the first of August—the Season will be over by then and everyone will start going home to the country.’

  ‘If there is a coronation. James is not at all sure there will be but, in any case, no one will leave town until something is resolved. Everyone will still be fired up with nothing to divert them. There will be a kind of vacuum and we shall be there to fill it. Oh, please say yes.’

  ‘I shall have to talk to the Duke.’

  ‘Of course,’ Lavinia said, hoping that her father would be too distracted to pay much attention to what his wife was asking and would give the nod without thinking too deeply about it. And once rehearsals were under way and it became apparent that they needed professional help, she could introduce the idea of asking Mr Greatorex to step in. She decided to let the matter rest for the time being and began talking about Lady Graham’s ball.

  ‘You owe me five guineas,’ Lavinia said as soon as she had climbed into the phaeton beside James the following morning. It was very early indeed and there was little traffic on the road: a couple of milkmaids were driving their cows from Green Park to the houses where the milk would be sold direct from cow to kitchen maid’s jug; a chimney sweep was striding down the street, his poles and brushes over his shoulder, followed by his tiny assistant scampering to keep up with him; a hackney cab carried a late reveller home; a marauding mongrel and a pair of spitting cats were determined on disturbing the peace.

  James took his attention from his driving long enough to turn and look at her. Early as it was, she was looking gloriously vibrant. Her gown was covered by a long cloak whose hood was flung back to reveal her thick chestnut-coloured hair. Not wanting to involve her maid, she had endeavoured to tie it back with a ribbon but several shorter strands had escaped and curled about her ears and neck. Excitement made her green eyes sparkle like emeralds and the early morning air, so much fresher than the heat in the middle of the day, had made her cheeks rosy.

  He was almost breathless with longing, but he managed a cool, ‘By that, am I to assume you turned your papa up sweet and he has agreed to allow you to use the ballroom for your play?’

  ‘Yes, I told you he would, did I not?’

  ‘There must be a proviso or something of the sort.’

  ‘No, not at all,’ she said, smiling broadly, revealing perfect white teeth. ‘I told you he would not stand against Mama, didn’t I? She asked him when he came home last night.’

  ‘Then you did not speak to him yourself. I am not sure that doesn’t invalidate the wager.’

  ‘I did not undertake to ask him myself. I distinctly remember telling you I would get Mama on my side.’

  ‘Then I suppose I had better pay up.’ He sighed and turned into the park gates. There was no one about except a few horsemen, galloping across the grass, and a drunken reveller rolling home on foot, his top hat over one eye and his cravat awry. ‘But I cannot help feeling there is something you have not told me. What about this play actor, Lancelot the Great or whatever he is called? Is he to be made welcome?’

  ‘He will be.’

  He laughed suddenly. ‘You did not even mention him, did you?’

  ‘No, one step at a time. And we didn’t make any stipulations about him in the wager, either.’ She paused. ‘Come on, James, admit you have lost.’

  He pulled the horses to a stop, extracted a purse from his coat pocket and gave her five guineas from it. ‘There, does that satisfy you?’

  She dropped the coins into her reticule. ‘No, for it was not the wager that brought me out this morning. Did you think you could make me forget that you promised to hand over the ribbons?’

  ‘I made no such promise.’

  ‘Oh, come along, James, you know it is what I want to do above all things.’

  ‘What! Even above acting in one of Shakespeare’s plays?’

  ‘At this moment, yes.’

  ‘Very well.’ He gave her the reins. He did not relinquish complete control, but laid his hands over hers to guide her. Even that small touch sent desire coursing through him and made him wonder how he was going to be able to hold on to his self possession. ‘Slowly, now, and keep the inside horse away from the verge. It is running wheels over bumps and slopes that turns these things over.’

  ‘I know. You do not need to guide me.’

  Reluctantly he took his hand away and they proceeded along the carriageway at a walk which soon became a brisk trot, but when she would have set the horses to canter, he put a hand out to restrain her. ‘That’s enough for today, Vinny. Even I would not be such a bufflehead as to go faster here.’

  Reluctantly she slowed the horses. ‘Thank you, James. You are the dearest of men.’

  He did not reply. He knew she did not mean the endearment in the way he wanted her to mean it, but it gave him a glow of satisfaction, even so. And then his smile faded as he saw Edmund Wincote riding straight towards them.

  He would have liked to pretend they had not seen him, but his lordship was determined he would be acknowledged and reined in almost across their path, startling their horses. Fearing Lavinia would not be equal to the task, James grabbed the reins, which Lavinia was reluctant to relinquish. For a moment it confused the horses and they began pulling in different directions. It took all his considerable skill to regain
control of them. As it was, Lavinia was jolted almost out of her seat and her hat went flying.

  ‘You fool, Wincote!’ James said, hauling the horses to a stop. ‘You could have had us over. As it is you have frightened Lady Lavinia half to death.’

  ‘Have I?’ the young man said, addressing Lavinia and doffing his riding hat, apparently unperturbed. ‘Then I beg your pardon, my lady.’

  ‘Think no more of it,’ she said smoothly, though she was shaking. She was not sure if it was caused by what could have been a nasty accident or meeting him again so soon. ‘I should have pulled up sooner.’

  He dismounted and retrieved her hat. ‘I did not expect to see a carriage in the park so early, especially one with so dexterous and decorative a whipster.’

  ‘Why not?’ She favoured him with a smile. ‘I like to rise early. It is the best time of the day, before the heat becomes unbearable, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Oh, indeed.’ He gave her back her hat and watched admiringly as she put it on and tied the ribbons. ‘May I call on you and your mama later? I would wish to assure myself you have had no ill effects from the fright I gave you.’

  ‘That will not be necessary,’ James put in quickly. ‘You can see her ladyship has come to no harm.’

  Wincote grinned knowingly. ‘Oh, I understand. Rest assured your secret is safe with me, Corringham. I wish you good day, my lady.’ And with that he wheeled away.

  ‘What did he mean by that?’ Lavinia asked, as they continued on their way.

  ‘He imagines we crept out for a secret assignation.’

  She laughed. ‘Then he was not so far wrong, was he?’

  ‘He was a very long way from being right,’ he said grimly. Far from their secret being safe, he had a notion it would be all over town by evening.

  Chapter Two

  Lord Edmund Wincote was not in the least put off by James’s antagonism; he arrived at Stanmore House that afternoon, only to discover that the Duchess was ‘at home’ and the house was filled with callers, all taking tea and all talking at once.

  Lavinia, clad in a pale green silk gown, its high waist delineated with a band of cream velvet, heard him being announced above the noise and hurried over to make him welcome. ‘Lord Wincote, how nice to see you. Do let me present you to the Duchess.’

  She led him forward to where the Duchess was talking to a group of ladies, together with Sir Percival Ponsonby, who always dressed flamboyantly in glaring unmatched colours, but was, for all that, held in great affection and esteem by the Duchess. Today he was in a very old-fashioned puce coat and green breeches. His grey hair was worn long and tied in a tail with a narrow black ribbon.

  ‘The King is playing least in sight while his wife is seen everywhere,’ Lady Willoughby was saying. She was enormously fat, though apparently unaware of it. Frances had once painted a portrait of her, which she loved because it depicted her flatteringly rounded and without her many chins. The Duke, however, had said the Duchess had belittled herself and her art to do it. ‘I do believe she enjoys putting the King to the blush.’

  ‘I really do not know how she has the effrontery to come back to England,’ Lady Graham put in. ‘I heard the King had offered her thousands of pounds to stay away…’

  Percy laughed, at home among the female company. ‘Well, if he did it has made no difference; she is here.’

  ‘I heard the King will not allow her to live in any of the Royal palaces and the Lord Mayor has offered her his home,’ Mrs Butterworth added her contribution to the gossip.

  ‘More fool he. It will do him no good.’

  ‘Mama,’ Lavinia said, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation. ‘May I present Lord Edmund Wincote?’

  ‘Why, of course.’ The Duchess turned to him at once, smiling a welcome. ‘How do you do, Lord Wincote?’

  He took her hand and bowed over it with precise courtesy. ‘I am honoured, your Grace.’

  ‘Are you come to town for the festivities?’

  ‘That was my intent, my lady. I have a friend whose house overlooks the route of the procession and he was kind enough to invite me to join his guests. In the meantime, I have taken lodgings in Mount Street and plan to enjoy whatever London has to offer in the way of entertainment. I was riding in the park yesterday when I chanced upon my old friend the Earl of Corringham and Lady Lavinia. He was so good as to present me to her ladyship. I came to pay my respects. I hope I do not intrude.’

  Lavinia was relieved when he did not also mention their second meeting when she had been driving the phaeton. She did not want a scolding over her hoydenish behaviour.

  ‘Not at all, my lord,’ the Duchess said. ‘You are welcome. May I present Lady Willoughby, Lady Graham and her daughter, Miss Constance Graham, Mrs Butterworth and Sir Percival Ponsonby.’ She indicated each in turn. ‘Lord Edmund Wincote.’ He bowed in acknowledgement, repeating their names politely as he did so.

  ‘Wincote?’ Lady Willoughby queried. ‘I am not sure I know that name. Where are you from?’ Lord Willoughby was the first of his line to be elevated to the peerage and, though very wealthy, had no country estate, so the family lived in London the whole year round. Lady Willoughby was convinced that gave her a special knowledge of who was who and how often they visited the capital.

  ‘Cumberland, my lady,’ he answered, not put off by her forthright manner. ‘After my father died, my brother John and I lived with our grandfather. He was in poor health the last few years of his life and rarely travelled. And since the demise of my elder bother, he liked to keep me by him to look after the estate. Sadly, he died earlier this year.’

  ‘That accounts for it,’ the lady said, apparently satisfied. ‘Is your wife with you?’

  It was obvious to all that if his wife was in London she would have accompanied him on afternoon calls, but it was Lady Willoughby’s way of ascertaining if he were married, a most important consideration.

  ‘I have no wife, my lady. But perhaps I shall soon remedy the deficiency.’

  ‘We must take you round and introduce you to people,’ Lavinia said to cover the uncomfortable silence that followed this. ‘Perhaps we can contrive invitations for you.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady.’

  ‘I wonder if the Queen will attend any functions,’ Lady Willoughby said. And then said to Lady Graham, ‘Do you expect her to make an appearance at your ball?’

  ‘Good gracious, no.’ Her ladyship affected a shudder of revulsion. ‘I cannot imagine anything worse than the upheaval that would cause. Constance would hate it, wouldn’t you, my love?’

  ‘Yes, Mama,’ the young lady said. She had mousy hair, and a pale face rather devoid of animation, although she had good bone structure and an enviable figure beneath the plain blue gown she wore.

  ‘And what about you, Duchess?’ Lady Graham went on as if her daughter had not spoken. ‘Are you expected to entertain Royalty this Season?’

  ‘I think not. It would compromise the Duke, who is trying very hard to be impartial, though we are obliged to attend the King’s official birthday reception at Carlton House tomorrow evening.’

  During all this chatter Lavinia was acutely aware of the handsome figure standing beside her. Although he stood quite still and smiled occasionally as one or the other spoke, there was a kind of aura of energy about him. It was almost as if he were longing to make some point in the conversation, but was holding back for fear of giving offence. And after Lady Willoughby’s grilling, she admired him for it. ‘Lord Wincote, do you like to act?’ she asked.

  ‘Act, my lady?’ he queried, taken by surprise.

  ‘Yes, play acting. I am going to put on A Midsummer Night’s Dream to raise money for the Duchess’s favourite charity. I would welcome more people taking part.’

  ‘I have no experience of acting, my lady.’

  ‘Oh, that does not signify. I am sure you must have played charades…’

  ‘Why, yes, in my youth.’

  ‘There you are, then!’ she said triumph
antly. ‘Do say you will join us.’

  He bowed. ‘I shall be honoured, my lady.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, giving him one of her dazzling smiles. ‘Constance, will you take part?’

  ‘If you think I have anything to offer, I will.’ Constance spoke quietly as she always did and Lavinia wondered how she could be persuaded to project her voice so that an audience could hear her. Perhaps Mr Greatorex would school her.

  ‘Of course you have. And you, too, Sir Percy.’

  ‘Me?’ he queried. ‘Why, my dear, I can act nothing but the part of Sir Percival Ponsonby.’

  She laughed. ‘That is all I ask, but Sir Percy might need a new name for an evening. How does Theseus, Duke of Athens, sound to you?’

  ‘But I am useless at getting words by rote.’

  ‘Oh, you do not have too much to say and Stepmama will rehearse you, won’t you, Mama?’

  Before the Duchess could answer, the butler announced the arrival of the Earl of Corringham and James sauntered into the room, dressed in light wool fawn-coloured frock coat, cream brocade waistcoat and white lawn cravat in which a diamond pin gleamed. He came forward to bow over his stepmother’s hand, then turned to greet the ladies and Percy, all of whom he knew well.

  He left Lavinia until last. ‘Lady Lavinia, your servant,’ he said, bowing formally and making her want to giggle. He could be so pompous at times.

  ‘James, I did not expect you,’ Frances said, looking quizzically from stepdaughter to stepson. ‘Twice in two days is so out of the ordinary that I begin to wonder what the attraction might be.’

  ‘Why, you, Mama. And the delightful company you keep.’

  ‘Gammon! Now ring for more tea, for this has gone stone cold.’

  He did as she asked, pretending a nonchalance he did not feel. He wanted to know what Wincote was up to. He could feel the tension in the air and knew it had not been occasioned by his arrival; it had been swirling about before that. ‘Did I hear you talking about Lady Lavinia’s play?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lavinia said. ‘Lord Wincote has agreed to take a part in it.’