Chapter Thirteen #2
Lovely might be an exaggeration, though Livy did not feel any urge to blush for her appearance.
The mid-blue she had chosen—Madame Beauvillier called it Sardinian Blue—had been made up in a round dress and trimmed around all the hems with piped lines of white and a darker blue, colors that were picked up in the embroidery on the bodice.
Cilla’s gown was altogether fussier but suited her wonderfully. In another shade of her favorite pink, it was trimmed with lace and ribbon, and flounced at the hem.
Barker helped them into their walking boots and brought them their coats, bonnets, and gloves.
They went downstairs to find Pa waiting in the entry hall.
“I shall escort you to Virginia’s house today.
I want a word with young Jasper, if he is there.
And I wish to make certain that Virginia does not try to bully you, or push suitors onto you. ”
Livy admitted, if only to herself, that she was relieved. She had been concerned about their reception after the altercation last night—or, rather, in the early hours of this morning.
As it was, Aunt Ginny must have reviewed her strategy, for she welcomed all three of them with enthusiasm.
“Horace, the girls have some lovely bouquets. And even better! An invitation for all five girls to the ball that the Duchess of Winshire holds every year! My girls and the Duchess of Winshire’s ball!
I did tell you your girls would be a success, Horace.
Girls, I spoke to Jasper, and he assures me that the conversation reported to you never took place.
We must suppose that Mr. Sanderson made it up for purposes of his own. ”
What rubbish. But Aunt Ginny did not pause for any of them to comment. “I will allow Jasper to make his own explanations, Lucilla, but he assures me of his sincere regard, and of course it is ridiculous to suppose he would marry for any other reason.”
“Is that so?” said Pa.
“Of course,” Aunt Ginny insisted. “However, I have told him that you cannot quite like it, Horace, and that he must address himself to you. He is out at the moment for, of course, we did not expect you. Are you staying for calls, Horace?”
Pa was not staying. He excused himself, and left Aunt Ginny to usher Livy and her sister into a parlor that looked more like a flower stall, with vases on every available surface.
Lord Andrew had sent flowers to all five girls.
The Sanderson brothers had sent a small bouquet for each of the five girls, which was clever, since it appeared to be pure politeness, whereas the real tokens of esteem had been delivered across the road, out of Aunt Ginny’s sight.
Even Jasper had sent flowers to his sisters and his cousins. Livy wondered if Aunt Ginny had ordered them on her son’s behalf and paid for them, but kept the thought behind her teeth. Mr. Curston had sent flowers to Livy, but not to any of the others.
Every girl had received at least five floral offerings, which accounted for the very flowery appearance of the room. The cousins were thrilled, and they and Cilla were soon discussing the potential meaning of every blossom and every bouquet.
“Olivia,” said Aunt Ginny, using the conversation as cover. “You will be nice to Mr. Curston, will you not? Lord Curston is a particular friend, you see. I would count it as a favor. And truly, my dear, he is a fine young man and would make you an excellent match.”
“I shall be polite to all of your guests, Aunt Ginny,” Livy assured her. Perhaps a peace offering was not too much to ask. “Cilla and I are very grateful for all you have done for us,” she added.
The doorbell rang and their private moment was over. For the most part, the callers lavished their attention on the four younger ladies, while Livy knotted her reticule. This was the third she had made since coming to London. Perhaps she could give them away for Christmas presents.
Mr. Curston arrived, and paid her a few lavish compliments.
Mindful of her promise to her aunt, Livy did not treat them as rudely as they deserved.
In her opinion, though, it would not have been polite to let him think she was receptive to his flattery.
Better to make it clear she saw through it. Politely, of course.
“Miss Wintergreen, how radiant you are in that gown.”
“Glowing, do you mean, Mr. Curston? How odd. Is my face red?”
“You are pleased to jest, Miss Wintergreen. I meant, of course, that you are the loveliest creature in the room.”
Livy chuckled. “Your jest is funnier than mine, Mr. Curston. Next to Cilla? Or Ruby? I fancy most impartial jurors would find in favor of my sister or any one of my cousins.”
“I am, I must admit, not impartial,” Mr. Curston countered, looking a little white around the nostrils as he forced a pleasant expression onto his face. “I prefer a lady of your more mature charms.”
“I see.” Did the toad really think she would melt into a puddle at such verbal garbage? “What is your preferred age, sir? Or age range, should I say? Is there an upper limit to mature charms? Thirty, perhaps? Or forty?”
“You jest again,” Mr. Curston’s smile now looked as if it had transplanted from someone else’s face and pasted on.
The glint in his eye was by no means appreciative.
Indeed, if Livy had not been in her aunt’s parlor with her sister at hand and surrounded by cousins and other guests, she might almost have been frightened.
“It is my habit to be honest, sir,” she told him. “I trust it does not offend you.”
He bared his teeth in another fake smile. “I am sure nothing you did could offend me, Miss Wintergreen.”
Either the man had no imagination or he had no concept of how determined Livy was to resist and deflect his charm offensive.
Fortunately, he left after the requisite fifteen minutes. Possibly, he was relieved to go. Livy would not be at all surprised. But he could not have been as relieved as Livy.
There was a constant stream of guest throughout the two hours.
Livy had not expected Lord Andrew Winderfield to appear, and he did not.
Livy was a little disappointed. She had quite decided that, if he did come, she would ask for an introduction to his sister-in-law, Lady Sutton.
After all, if she met the lady and announced her interest in helping women in need, what was the worst that could happen?
The Sanderson brothers were also absent. Livy did not want to admit, even to herself, that their absence—or at least Bane’s absence—bothered her.
“Jasper will escort you home, girls,” Aunt Ginny announced, as Livy and Cilla were putting their bonnets and coats on after the last guest had left.
“No need,” said Pa, coming out of Jasper’s study. Aunt Ginny flushed, looking like a child who had been caught with her fingers in the biscuit tin.
“Horace! I did not know you had come back.”
“Since Jasper was not available when I was here earlier, I returned, Virginia. He and I have been having a cozy chat. I shall not trouble Jasper to escort my daughters today. Do you have an engagement with your aunt this evening, girls?”
“Yes, Pa,” Livy told him. “We are invited to a musical evening at Lady Eddington’s.”
“Very good,” said Pa. “I shall take my daughters in my carriage and meet you there, Virginia. It must be very crowded in your carriage with six ladies. I should have thought of it earlier. I shall also collect them at whatever time you tell me to be there.”
“Horace, there is no need for this,” said Aunt Ginny. “We are more than happy to take the girls with us.”
“It is no trouble at all,” Pa insisted. “We shall see you there, Virginia.”
Livy wondered what he and Jasper had talked about, but what he said after they were out in the street put her cousin from her mind.
“You have visitors at home, girls. The Sanderson brothers were turned away at your aunt’s place, so they came across the road in the hopes that you were at home.
I told them to return after an hour, when visiting hours would be over, and that they could then take you for a brief walk. Barker shall go to play propriety.”
Take that, Aunt Ginny.