Chapter Twelve #2
The earl’s commanding figure was rendered in dark oils, his broad shoulders draped in a navy-blue coat cut to military precision.
A waistcoat of ivory silk gleamed beneath, embroidered with gold thread that caught the artist’s brush as though it shimmered in lamplight.
He rested one gloved hand lightly on the hilt of a dress sword, the other placed protectively upon the back of the chair where his wife sat.
The countess, elegant and composed, with a serene smile on her lovely face, wore a gown of sapphire-blue silk with short, puffed sleeves and a high waist, the fabric falling in graceful folds about her lush figure.
A delicate gold necklace with a sapphire pendant adorned her slender neck, with matching sapphire teardrop earrings.
Her dark hair was swept into a smooth coiffure, adorned with a single diamond-jeweled comb that caught the light.
Truth be told, the lady had not changed much since the portrait had been painted.
Standing to the right of the earl could be no one other than Olivia.
She appeared to be about fourteen years old, clad in a simple white muslin gown tied with a sash of deep-blue ribbon that matched her striking moss-green eyes—the eyes of her mother.
Caro was her likeness in every feature, save for those eyes—hers shone a bright sapphire blue.
Ashlyn thought at once that Caro must have inherited her eyes from her father.
On the left of the countess stood Gabriel, no longer a boy but not quite a man, perhaps eighteen.
He was as tall as his father, though still lanky, whereas the earl was solidly built.
He wore a black coat with gold buttons, the rich color offset by a waistcoat of blue silk that echoed his mother’s gown.
Though his hair was neatly combed, it seemed to rebel with a stubborn wave that fell across his forehead.
And it was impossible to mistake those eyes—stormy gray, just like his father’s.
Ashlyn noticed that Gabriel was hugging his little sister.
“Oh yes, miss,” Alice said. “It’s the late earl. Mrs. Fitz said he was a kind man, with a ready smile. I’m sure you can tell who everyone else is.”
“Yes…it’s very evident.”
“It’s a right shame what happened to his sister, Lady Olivia, her husband, and the earl’s fiancée, too,” Alice said with a sad sigh. “Lady Caroline looks so much like her mother, don’t you think?”
“She certainly does.” Ashlyn couldn’t help the tightness in her throat.
She blinked back tears. From what both Gabriel and the countess had told her, the sibling relationship had been a close one.
The portrait reinforced how close the two must have been, closer than most siblings.
Considering her own relationship with Elizabeth, she understood it.
They rounded a corner and came into a less formal hall.
“Good evening, Miss Vickers,” Gabriel said as he stood by the dining room door to welcome her. Alice smiled and curtsied and then continued on her way.
“Forgive me for being late, my lord, my lady,” Ashlyn said.
“Miss Vickers—Elizabeth—we are glad you are with us,” the countess said.
“And that reminds me, I received a missive this morning from Lady Ashbourne, whose home will be hosting Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s house party.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon does not own a manor house in Bath, but I believe she felt the location was central to many of her guests.
I declined the invitation for Caro’s sake, you know… ”
“Mother, the missive?” Gabriel asked, teasing, his brow arched.
She looked at her son and gave a nod before turning back to Ashlyn.
“I rarely say anything about others, but there is one person you should give a wide berth to, my dear. Lady Ashbourne has twin children—Lady Paula, whom I’ve mentioned before, and Lord Pervis.
It’s my observation—I’m not repeating gossip here—that those two target other women that they see as competition and try to humiliate them.
I’ve seen it at least twice—and both at house parties, where they feel they have some advantage, since people are in close quarters.
I tell you this because you are a kind young woman. ”
Ashlyn now wished she were Elizabeth. Her cousin would see this as a challenge and make sure to be in Lady Paula’s company as much as possible. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Ashlyn,” she would say. Ashlyn had watched her cousin outwit many young women’s schemes at parties.
“Mother,” Gabriel protested, “Miss Vickers has been most resourceful, and I have not observed any weaknesses. The missive?”
“Yes. Of course, son.” The countess turned to Ashlyn.
“I apologize for being…gossipy. It normally isn’t my nature.
But you have become important to us, and I do not wish to see you hurt.
I have only met her a handful of times, and I suppose her actions could be mistaken.
But you cannot blame me for trying to protect those whom I like, my dear.
” She smiled and patiently pulled the missive from beneath the folded paper.
“Apparently, several others have been delayed as well. And I apologize for getting carried away, I suppose. I knew Mrs. Dove-Lyon hadn’t purchased a home near Bath and had to be using one of the existing peerage homes, but I was a little startled to discover that one of our neighbors had loaned her home to Mrs. Dove-Lyon for the house party. I hadn’t realized they were friends.”
“I understand the Earl of Ashbourne met his wife through Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s machinations—of course, that’s backstory, Mother, and isn’t widely known.
” Gabriel looked at Ashlyn. “Elizabeth, one of the things Mrs. Dove-Lyon is known for is helping young women find a husband. You probably don’t have the history, but her establishment, the Lyon’s Den in London, is a famous gaming…
establishment. She has been very successful in her endeavors to match young men and women.
Young men who find themselves in deep debt—her debt, if you will—sometimes find themselves married.
It is well known that ladies of the ton whose daughters have run into a bit of a spot, socially, pay her sums of money to marry off their daughters into a respectable marriage. ”
“I was unaware of that,” Ashlyn said. With a big smile, she continued. “However, her house party was being discussed practically everywhere we went in the days before my departure to come.”
Ashlyn realized she was growing uncomfortably comfortable in the pretense of being her cousin. The idea of attending the Dove-Lyon house party had suddenly become disturbing, and she wanted nothing more than to return to London. Which she could do.
Except then she’d miss riding to Bath with Gabriel. It seemed to her that it was the only silver lining in this whole misadventure.
“Perhaps you will find a match, my dear,” the countess said.
Seeing them both looking at her, Ashlyn scrambled to recall what the countess had just said.
“Me?” She chuckled. “Oh, no. I have no intentions of meeting someone to marry at the first event I attend. I know that many in Society enter marriages of convenience. However, my parents have a love match, and that’s what I would like to find.
I’m not sure you could meet someone at a house party and fall in love.
” In truth, it was her own parents—Dr. Robert March and Mrs. March—that had the love match.
The thought of them made her feel a twinge of homesickness.
“Very wise, my dear,” the countess said, glancing meaningfully at her son.
Elizabeth’s parents’ marriage had been one of convenience, so Ashlyn would need to be careful not to mention that at the party, if she was to maintain this ruse.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon, a friend of Aunt Beatrice, would know otherwise.
The idea that the house party was intended to match guests to Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s gambling clients irritated her, but there was nothing to be done. I will only marry for love.
Still, in case Aunt Beatrice had included Ashlyn’s eligibility in such a scheme with her friend, she would remain guarded. She certainly wasn’t ready to marry and would not be taking her cousin’s place in such a scheme.
“You are right in your assessment of British Society,” the countess said, stirring a little sugar into her tea. “I like it sweeter than most.” She gave a coy smile.
“Mother and Father’s marriage was a love match,” Gabriel remarked. “So, I understand your point of view, Miss Vickers.”
“I should add that arranged marriages happen among the upper classes in America, too,” Ashlyn quickly added.
Gabriel nodded but said nothing. Ashlyn wondered if he was thinking of his Juliet. From what she had gleaned from the snatches of conversation about the tragedy, he had loved her.
Her heart hurt at the thought of his loving another. After they had spent so much time yesterday with Billy, followed by a walk around the garden, she realized she had developed a fondness for him. But certainly not love, she reminded herself. He was probably just being a good host.
“Do you like to ride, Miss Vickers?” Gabriel asked.
“I do,” she answered.
“It occurs to me that you’ve been cooped up inside for the last two days. The storm should finally clear overnight. In light of this, I thought you might like to take a couple of horses and ride over some of the property tomorrow,” Gabriel said.
Though she didn’t speak, Ashlyn noticed his mother’s lips curve into a smile.
“I would,” Ashlyn replied. “I’d like that very much. But my maid doesn’t ride,” she added.
“I will ask a footman to accompany us, if that meets your approval,” Gabriel suggested.
Ashlyn nodded and smiled in reply.
The prospect of spending time with Gabriel filled her with anticipation, but equal parts anxiety, as she knew she must keep up her ruse of who she was.
Goodness, it seems I may have much to write about in my diary this week, she mused.