Lady Lavinia's Match Page 7

  ‘I am not such a ninny as to fall for the first young man who pays me compliments, Mama, but he is so considerate and attentive. He is also very handsome, do you not think?’

  ‘Yes, I believe he is.’ Frances smiled. ‘Perhaps it would be as well to find out more about him before he makes his intentions any more obvious than they are already. What has he told you?’

  ‘Only that his older brother, who was James’s friend, died in tragic circumstances and he stayed at home with his grandfather to help run the estate. It is quite extensive, I believe.’

  ‘That, I suppose, is a start. It may be that the Duke knows more, though I hesitate to trouble him at the moment.’

  ‘Mama, there is no need for that. I should hate Lord Wincote to hear you were making enquiries and assume from that I was setting my cap at him. I am sure we shall learn more little by little as the Season progresses; after all, there will be rehearsals when we are bound to meet in company.’

  ‘Speaking of rehearsals, Vinny, exactly how many people have you invited here tomorrow?’

  ‘Only a handful. Lord Wincote, James, Lord Haverley, Sir Percy, Mr Martin Drew, Mr Benedict Willoughby and Constance. I have yet to find more ladies, but Lord Haverley said he would bring his daughters.’

  ‘You had better warn cook to prepare some refreshments for everyone.’ She stood up. ‘Now, it is nearly five o’clock and we had better go up and change for dinner. The Duke has promised to try and be home in time to escort us, otherwise he will meet us at the theatre.’

  Lavinia left to obey. Daisy, once more her usual bright self, brushed and arranged her hair in a Grecian style that showed off her long neck and narrow shoulders, before helping her to dress in a rose-pink taffeta gown, trimmed with silk roses along the line of the high waist and around the hem. Slipping her still slightly sore feet into white slippers and picking up her fan, gloves and reticule, she made her way down to the drawing room, to find her father already dressed for dinner, discussing his day with the Duchess.

  ‘She positively refuses to budge,’ he was saying. ‘She will not leave the country for any consideration.’ Marcus Stanmore, third Duke of Loscoe, was, in his forties, still a very handsome man, but tonight he looked tired and his face bore signs of strain. ‘Brougham pretends he is speaking her words, but I fancy it is the other way about and she says what he tells her to.’

  ‘But Sir Henry Brougham is her attorney, is he not?’ Frances put in gently. ‘He is bound to advise her as to the proper course she should take.’

  ‘If I could believe that he was not trying to make political capital out of the poor woman, I might agree with you. It could bring the government down.’

  ‘Shall we try and forget it for a few hours, my dear?’ Frances said rising. ‘Let us go and have dinner and see the play.’

  ‘And that’s another thing…’ he said, offering his arm for his wife to lay her hand upon his sleeve.

  ‘Marcus,’ Frances said sharply as they moved towards the dining room, followed by Lavinia. ‘That is to be your last word on the subject. I intend to enjoy my dinner and the play, which means you must forget the politics and enjoy it too.’

  ‘Very well, my dear,’ he said, patting the hand on his arm. ‘We will quiz Vinny on her day instead.’

  ‘Well?’ he enquired of his daughter when all three were seated at the dining table and being served the first course of turbot in a shrimp sauce. ‘What have you been doing today?’

  ‘I bought several copies of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, ready for the allocation of parts tomorrow,’ she said, carefully omitting mention of her little mishap. ‘I painted a little more of the scenery. James came to call and later Lord Edmund Wincote.’

  ‘Wincote—who is he?’

  ‘A young man who seems to have attached himself to the ton,’ Frances explained. ‘I can see nothing wrong in him, and he seems very popular…’

  ‘On account of being very handsome and particular,’ Lavinia put in, then laughed and added, ‘And unattached.’

  ‘I wonder if you know the family?’ the Duchess asked. ‘He comes from Cumberland. His elder brother, Henry, was at Cambridge with James and he seems to think that gives him entry into Society.’

  ‘Wincote?’ he repeated. ‘I knew of a Charles Wincote. Years ago now. He committed some indiscretion or other and had to leave town—not at all sure exactly what it was though.’

  ‘Can you find out? I am not sure that I ought to receive him quite so frequently until I know his antecedents.’

  The Duke looked at his wife with affectionate humour. ‘It is not like you to brand someone because of what their forebears did, Fanny.’

  ‘Ordinarily I would not, but he is showing an uncommon interest in your daughter.’

  The Duke turned to Lavinia. ‘Is that so, my dear?’

  ‘No more than any other young man, Papa. And you may be sure James is determined to protect me. He is like a mother hen.’

  The Duke smiled. ‘And who is protecting you from the Earl of Corringham?’

  ‘Oh, I do not need protecting from him, Papa. I can manage him.’

  ‘Do not be so sure, miss. I hope I do not need to tell you to be careful.’

  ‘No, Papa. But James behaves like an older brother and so I treat him.’

  She noticed her father lift his eyebrows towards his wife and smile. The Duke and his Duchess were so comfortable together, so loving and understanding that she could not imagine them ever having a falling out. That was the kind of marriage she wanted and she would not settle for anything less.

  ‘Then I will say no more for the moment. Now, tell me about this play.’

  Relieved of the subject of her suitors, imaginary or otherwise, Lavinia launched into an enthusiastic account of what she had done and what she intended to do, to which he appeared to listen, but she could tell by his eyes that he was not giving her all his attention and that his mind kept wandering elsewhere. Still he kept his promise not to mention the Queen and her troubles and they finished the meal in good spirits.

  But it could not last. The audience at the Drury Lane theatre, fuelled by a rumour that Caroline meant to attend the performance, were unruly and noisy, shouting that they wanted to see the Queen and laughing and making rude jests against the King. Lavinia, sitting between her father and stepmother in the Loscoe box, was reminded of the noisy demonstration of the morning and began to feel fearful that the Duke would be taken for a King’s man and they would turn on him.

  It was just as the orchestra was beginning the overture that Lavinia saw Lord Wincote take his place in a box on the opposite side of the auditorium, beside the elderly Countess of Jersey, a known sympathiser of Caroline. She nudged the Duchess and nodded towards the opposite box. ‘Mama, look,’ she said in a whisper so that her father could not hear. ‘Do you suppose he knows what he is doing?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I do hope he does not bring her to our box during the interval.’

  The noisy audience quietened down when it became apparent that the Queen was not going to appear and the performance was permitted to begin. Lavinia sat through the first act so tense with apprehension she could not take in a word of the story or appreciate the acting, which was, in any case, not first rate, and by the time the curtain fell for the intermission she was a bundle of nerves.

  However, it was not Edmund who knocked on the door of their box during the interval, but a messenger from the Prime Minister, requiring the Duke’s immediate attendance.

  ‘I’m sorry, my love, I must go,’ he said to Frances. ‘Shall you stay?’

  The Duchess looked at Lavinia. ‘Do you want to stay, Vinny?’

  ‘No, Mama, it is a very poor performance and I had as lief go home if you do not wish to stay.’

  ‘Then we will go.’

  Marcus had the carriage summoned and saw them into it, before joining the messenger in the cab he had arrived in.

  By the following afternoon, it was all round town that negotiations with
the Queen had been abandoned, that she was to live in Brandenburg House on the Thames between Fulham and Hammersmith and the coronation had been postponed for a year. All the work on preparing the Abbey had been halted and the arrangements made for the reception and feasting afterwards cancelled.

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Lavinia said. ‘Now perhaps we can get on with our play.’

  Taking the copies of the play into the ballroom, she arranged a semi-circle of chairs facing the woodland scene she had painted and sat down to wait for the cast to appear. Lord Wincote was the first to be announced.

  ‘Good afternoon, my lady.’ he said, striding into the room and bowing over her hand. He wore a mustard-coloured superfine frock coat and cream pantaloons, a brown-and-lemon striped waistcoat and a white cravat tied in what she believed was called a waterfall. ‘Here I am, as instructed, and at your command.’ He seemed remarkably cheerful.

  ‘Good afternoon, Lord Wincote,’ she said, aware that he had not released her hand and she was going to have to wrest it from him. ‘You are punctual. No one else has arrived.’

  ‘Good, then perhaps we may have a little private conversation before anyone else comes.’ His dark eyes were searching hers, his gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. And therein lay her problem. She did not seem able to look away.

  ‘Private conversation, my lord?’ she queried breathlessly, retrieving her hand and putting it behind her out of his reach.

  ‘About when you will come out in the carriage with me. The park will not be so crowded now that the Queen has moved out of town.’

  ‘And who told you that? Could it be Lady Jersey?’

  ‘Oh, you saw us.’

  ‘So did everyone else. Does that mean you align yourself with the opposition?’

  ‘Not at all. Living as I have done so far from the capital, Iamnot au fait with the partisanship of the haut monde. My grandfather once knew the Countess of Jersey and often spoke of her, so I felt obliged to call on her. She has lost so many of her friends and begged me to accompany her to the play. I could not, in conscience, refuse her.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘Have I offended you, my lady? Because I would cut off my hand before I did anything to upset you, you must surely know that.’

  ‘Lord Wincote, you should not say things like that.’

  ‘Why not, when they are true?’ Somehow he managed to possess himself of her hand again. ‘I have known you but a short time, but the esteem in which I hold you cannot be measured in time, only in depth…’

  ‘Oh.’ She was thoroughly confused. It could be his idea of playful flirtation, the playing of pretty compliments as acted out between members of the ton to amuse themselves. But he had spoken with such fervour, as if the words came from the heart, that she found herself blushing. It was a moment or two before she recovered enough to reply with what was meant to be a light laugh, but sounded more like a cracked gasp. ‘My lord, I think that is an improper remark to make on so short an acquaintance—’

  ‘Indeed it is,’ said a voice from the doorway. ‘Wincote, you should not take liberties just because her ladyship is so trusting as to receive you without a chaperon.’

  ‘James, you are coming, after all.’ Lavinia was unsure whether she was relieved or annoyed by the interruption.

  ‘Of course.’ He came into the room at an amble, deliberately not hurrying, because if he did he might feel tempted to give the other fellow a facer. And that most certainly would not do. ‘I said I would, did I not? You know you may rely upon me.’

  Edmund looked as though he would like to make some cutting remark, but he bit it back and smiled. ‘Good afternoon, Corringham.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Wincote. Is that your phaeton outside the front door?’

  ‘Yes, I acquired in yesterday from Robinson and Cook, they have their premises only a few doors from my lodgings, and in passing yesterday, I decided to see what they had to offer. Lady Lavinia has been so kind as to agree to try it out.’ He paused to see the effect his words would have, but as James’s expression registered nothing, he added, ‘We shall not require your services as a chaperon.’

  James smiled, knowing he had rattled the gentleman. ‘And for that relief, much thanks,’ he said lightly. ‘I cannot think of anything more uncomfortable that riding three in a carriage meant for two.’

  ‘James!’ Lavinia remonstrated.

  ‘Don’t mean to give offence, my dear,’ he said. ‘But you must see my point.’

  Lavinia was glad the arrival of more of the cast brought an end to the conversation before it could become any more acrimonious. They came in ones and twos and the semi-circle of chairs was soon filled.

  They were all very restless and talkative, more inclined to gossip about the latest news of the King and Queen and speculate on future developments than pay attention. She had to rap hard on a table to make herself heard. ‘Let us get on, shall we? We can have a cose when refreshments are served.’

  ‘What did I tell you, Wincote?’ James said. ‘A positive Captain Hackum.’

  ‘I am listening, my lady,’ Edmund said. ‘Though I am unfamiliar with the play.’

  ‘It is a love story,’ she said, giving James a venomous look. ‘It is about a young girl, Hermia, who refuses to obey her father and marry Demetrius, the young man he has chosen for her. She is given four days to obey or she must, according to Athenian law, suffer death or go into a nunnery.’

  ‘A harsh punishment, my lady,’ Edmund said. ‘Though I have heard of such things happening. Not death, of course, but lockings up and other threats. It is a cruel father who would do such a thing. I sincerely hope the Duke of Loscoe is not so unbending.’

  ‘My lord, this is a fairy tale,’ Lavinia said. ‘You are not to make comparisons with real life.’

  ‘I should hope not,’ James interjected. ‘Since you would have me learn the part of the cruel father.’

  ‘I have changed my mind,’ she said. ‘You are too young for Egeus, after all, and since Lord Haverley has consented to help us, he would play the part so much better.’ She turned to Lord Haverley, who sat on the end of the row. ‘Will you do it, my lord?’

  ‘If it please you, my lady,’ he said, with a slight bow.

  ‘Then you will not need me,’ James said. ‘I will be prompter.’

  ‘No, you will not. I need you to play Demetrius. Lord Wincote can be Lysander and Constance has already said she will be Helena.’

  ‘Only if you cannot find anyone else,’ Constance said.

  ‘At the moment, I cannot. Do say you will. Lord Corringham will help to school you, won’t you, James?’ A statement which made the poor girl blush to the roots of her fair hair.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, realising Lavinia had selected him for the task in order to commit him to the project. He grinned at her, letting her know he knew what she was about. ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure.’

  ‘Do go on, Lady Lavinia,’ Sophia said. ‘What happens?’

  ‘Hermia and her lover, Lysander, decide to run away together,’ Lavinia explained. ‘They are pursued by Demetrius who, in turn, is followed by Helena who loves him and wants him to turn away from Hermia. They all end up in the woods where the fairies take a hand in the proceedings. They have a magic potion which, when anointed on someone’s eyes while they sleep, will make them fall in love with the first person they see on wakening.’

  ‘But they get it all wrong,’ Duncan said gleefully. ‘I read it yesterday. They all fall in love with the wrong person.’

  ‘I see,’ Sophia said. ‘But there is a happy ending?’

  ‘Of course. It is supposed to be a comedy.’

  ‘And who is to play Hermia?’ James asked. If Lavinia took the part, she would have several love scenes to play with Wincote and he could not pretend he was not jealous. It occurred to him that she might be doing it on purpose, but then he realised Lavinia did not have a mean bone in her body and, in any case, she had no idea how he fe
lt about her. It was her openness, her transparent honesty he loved most about her. She had not even been able to keep her secret about Lancelot Greatorex, but was compelled to tell someone. He felt flattered that it should be him, even if it was likely to put him in a spot of bother with her father.

  ‘For the moment, I shall,’ she said, then, addressing Sophia, ‘Miss Haverley, will you be Titania, the Queen of the fairies?’

  ‘Oh, do,’ Benedict put in. ‘I am to be Bottom. Titania falls in love with Bottom.’

  ‘Only because Puck makes a mistake with the magic juice,’ Duncan said, grinning. ‘He is one of the fairies and a mischief-maker.’

  ‘Then you will be well qualified for the part,’ his sister put in. ‘Sir Percy has agreed to be Theseus, the Duke of Athens.’ She smiled at Percy, who smiled back a little wryly. ‘And that leaves Oberon. Mr Drew, would you oblige?’

  He nodded his assent and began leafing through his copy to see how much he had to say.

  ‘You have forgotten Hippolyta, the Duke’s bride,’ James said. ‘Not to mention a whole host of journeymen engaged to entertain the Duke on his wedding night, and a handful of fairies.’

  ‘No, I have not. There is no hope of us being able to return to the country at our usual time and Mama misses the children. She has asked Miss Hastings to bring them to London so we shall have our Hippolyta and our fairies, especially if Augusta can be persuaded to allow Andrew and Beth to appear as well. Perhaps you will lead them, Miss Eliza?’

  ‘Yes, if I do not have too much to learn.’

  ‘And we can dispose of the court entertainment. At least for the moment. Is everyone happy?’

  There were few moans which signified rather less than total enthusiasm, but all agreed to try and learn their lines. Then the refreshments were brought in and everyone left their seats to mill about and talk to each other and admire the scenery.

  ‘You will make an excellent Hermia,’ Edmund said, finding Lavinia standing alone, deep in thought. ‘I shall enjoy our scenes together.’

  ‘Oh, so shall I,’ she said, almost afraid to turn and face him for fear of what that searching look of his would do to her. She had heard of people who could bend someone to their will simply by staring at them and talking softly—was he one of those?