Chapter Eight #3
“Pshaw! Finish your breakfast and don’t be ridiculous.
A lady always has a choice. I will expect you downstairs at two.
” She turned a beady eye on Tessa and, with magnificent obliviousness, added, “And if you’re not downstairs by two, I will have a footman carry you down—understand?
And for goodness’ sake wear something decent. ”
#
TESSA REALLY DIDN’T want to meet Lady Gosforth’s visitors—she knew what they’d all think of her—but she also had no intention of being carried down by a footman, so just before two she went downstairs.
But far from wearing something that Lady Gosforth would consider ‘decent’ she wore a very plain dress in dull charcoal gray.
When the old lady saw her, she sniffed and sent for a maid. “Run upstairs and fetch my pink shawl—the one with the embroidery,” she told the girl.
The maid returned in a few minutes with a beautiful soft pink cashmere shawl, embroidered with a narrow black and silver design around the edge.
At Lady Gosforth’s direction, she then draped it around Tessa’s shoulders.
The old lady watched with a critical eye, then nodded.
“There, that’s better. Don’t want people to think I’ve a crow for a guest, do I? ”
Tessa didn’t bother arguing—what was the point? Besides, the shawl was beautiful and warm, and the first callers were arriving. She could hear them in the hall. She tightened the shawl around her and braced herself.
#
IT WAS A CONFUSING afternoon.
Lady Gosforth made a point of introducing her to every caller as “My honored young guest, Lady Hewitt,” which bewildered Tessa, as surely the point of making her attend was to let people know she was looking for a post as a companion.
The visitors’ responses varied. Most were initially startled, and gave Tessa narrow looks, but good manners prevailed and they murmured a polite enough greeting.
Several, however, pokered up indignantly, looking as though they would refuse to acknowledge her, but Lady Gosforth simply trained her lorgnette on them and waited until they condescended to greet Tessa, which they did with chilly hauteur.
Not that she expected any kind of warmth, but Lady Gosforth’s insistence on her guests’ acceptance of Tessa confused her.
The old lady despised her, so what was she playing at?
There were several awkward moments. One was when Lady Gosforth, seeing her seated in a far corner made a point of calling her forward and instructing her to sit closer, pointing to a space between two ladies seated on the chaise longue.
The ladies were not pleased and, as she reluctantly took the seat indicated, they made a point of twitching their skirts aside, as if they feared to be contaminated by her proximity.
One of them, a lady who had greeted her with ice dripping from every word, moved so far to the end of the chaise that the slightest nudge would have sent her sprawling to the floor. Tessa was tempted, but restrained herself. She was here to get a job.
Both ladies left soon afterward, cutting their visit ostentatiously short, and Tessa took the opportunity to move back to her previous seat.
Conversation soon became general—though Tessa had no doubt that she would be gossiped about later—and the serving of tea or sherry and dainty little cakes and biscuits helped relax the atmosphere.
Each visit only lasted twenty minutes or so, and as some ladies left, others arrived.
Few ladies addressed Tessa directly and when they did, Lady Gosforth answered for her.
In that respect it was almost like being married again.
They talked of people she didn’t know, scandals she had no interest in, plays and operas she had no idea about—she’d never been to the theatre—and the weather. The weather changed so frequently in London it was always a safe subject of conversation.
Heartily bored, Tessa sipped her tea and nibbled on a biscuit and listened. If only she had something to do with her hands, but she had never learned embroidery or tatting or crochet or knitting, and wouldn’t wish anyone to witness her beginner efforts.
But it was something of a relief not to have to make conversation herself.
It wasn’t a skill she’d ever developed. In both her marriages, visitors—male or female—had not been encouraged and she’d been required to stay at home most of the time.
She’d been quite a chatterbox at first, but she’d soon learned that men preferred to do the talking.
As her first husband told her a number of times, “I didn’t marry you for your conversation, girl. ”
She’d never once had other ladies over for tea and cakes and chat, or had to exert herself to facilitate a conversation. It was quite a skill, she realized, one which, as a companion, she supposed she would have to develop.
And it was quite interesting considering which of the ladies she might like to become a companion to.
None of them, she decided. While they were polite enough under Lady Gosforth’s gimlet eye, she could tell that beneath the facade of good manners, most of them knew something of her history and despised her for it.
In any case, it didn’t seem as though any of them needed a companion, for they mostly arrived in pairs.
Only one of the ladies arrived with a companion in tow, a drab-looking female of about forty, and though she was greeted by everyone—some as an afterthought—she took a seat at the back of the room and spent the remainder of the visit in silence, ignored by all.
And one lady sat with an older woman she addressed as ‘cousin,’ but the way the older woman addressed her was dismissive, verging on rude.
Tessa decided that she was also a companion.
Now that she’d written that application to Yorkshire, she felt more hopeful. Lady Gosforth’s strictures didn’t bother her. She would be much more comfortable working with an employer who was not a member of the ton, someone who would know nothing of her marriages, and have no opinion about them.
To pass the time Tessa entertained herself by deciding which animal each lady looked most like.
Slowly the number of visitors dwindled, and Tessa was surprised to see one of the last to arrive was Lord Alverleigh.
There had been very few male visitors up to then, and his arrival caused something of a stir among the ladies present.
They sat straighter, were chattier and smilier and talked a great deal more.
Fans fanned briskly, and young ladies blushed, though it wasn’t at all hot in the room.
And everyone tried to engage him in conversation.
He responded politely but briefly, and made no attempt to encourage any of them.
He did however pay attention to Tessa, and asked her several questions, which were innocuous enough but the damage was done.
The visiting ladies noted his attention to her, and Tessa could see they were drawing conclusions—erroneous ones.
She wanted to explain that she had no interest in him, no interest in marrying every again. But of course she couldn’t.
Finally the last visitor—except for Lord Alverleigh—left.
“Well, Marcus,” Lady Gosforth said, “what do have to say for yourself, coming at this hour, when you know it is one of my ‘at home’ afternoons?”
“And are you not ‘at home’ to me?” He raised a sardonic eyebrow. “And here I was thinking I could come and go whenever I wish in my own home.”
She snorted. “You know very well what I mean.”
He turned to Tessa. “And how did you fare in the ordeal by hens—I mean ladies—that my aunt subjected you to?” His gray eyes gleamed.
Very aware that his aunt had stiffened at his words, Tessa said, “It was most interesting, and no ordeal at all. Everyone was very k—polite.”
His eyebrow arched sardonically. Had he noted her switch from ‘kind’ to ‘polite’?
“Of course they were polite,” Lady Gosforth snapped. “My friends would not be otherwise.”
“They would not dare,” her nephew murmured.
“Marcus, before you go, I wish to speak to you—privately—in the small sitting room,” the old lady said. She turned to Tessa. “I will dine at home this evening. You will join me.”
She stumped away to the small sitting room, which was her favorite, leaving Tessa alone with Lord Alverleigh. She took advantage of the opportunity. “I have a letter to send, but I’m not sure how to send it. I’ve always had someone frank it for me.”
“Yes, of course, give it to me.” He barely glanced at it before slipping her letter into his pocket. “Was that all? How did it go really, with my aunt’s friends?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t expect anything to come of it. Your aunt seems quite hostile to the idea of my seeking employment.”
“You are still set on that?”
“Yes, of course. I must find some way to support myself, surely you can see that.”
“Marcus!” Lady Gosforth called down the hallway. “I’m waiting.”
“General Gosforth summons me,” Lord Alverleigh murmured. “Would you be interested in a visit to Hampstead Heath tomorrow morning? It’s quite a long ride, but I think you’d enjoy it. Weather permitting, of course.”
Tessa smiled. “Thank you, that would be lovely.” How could his aunt think this man was cold and unapproachable?
Oh, during the morning visit he’d appeared cold and even a bit harsh—he almost never smiled, and she’d never heard him laugh—but if you discounted his severe mien and considered his actions, he was thoughtful and kind.
And she liked the way he called his aunt General Gosforth, without in the least disrespecting her.
It was clear to Tessa that he was, in fact, very fond of her.
#
MARCUS HAD BARELY STEPPED into the small sitting room when his aunt snapped at him, “How long are you going to let that child exhaust herself applying for positions she’s not remotely suited for?”
Marcus blinked. Tessa had apparently gone from being ‘that creature’ to ‘that child.’
“It’s what she wants, Aunt Maude.”
“Pshaw! It’s not what she wants, boy—it’s all she thinks she can have.”
“I know.”
She stared at him. “You know? Then why the devil don’t you do something about it?”
“I will. In my own good time” He had no intention of explaining his plans to his aunt. He’d only just made up his mind, and he needed to give Tessa time to get used to the idea. She’d had so few choices in her life, he wasn’t going to join the line of men who’d ruled her.
Besides he wanted her to choose him freely, not be driven to it by poverty and desperation. Though he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she did accept a post with one of his aunt’s friends. Try to talk her out of it, he supposed.
“Well, time is running out.”
“I know what I’m doing, Aunt Maude.” Ignoring her derisive snort, he continued, “There is no need for you to worry. I have it all well in hand.” He didn’t, of course.
It all depended on Tessa, and he understood her now much less than he had when he was a child.
She had a past that had somehow . . . changed her. But he wasn’t giving up on her.