Chapter 7
Seven
Revelation, according to the Oxford English Dictionary:
The action or fact of expecting or forecasting that something will happen; prior visualization of, or belief in, a particular outcome or future situation.
The action of looking forward to something; eager or pleasurable expectation.
Something which acts as a precursor or forerunner of something else.
July
London
Tia smoothed the emerald-green satin of her skirt and peered at her reflection.
The scoop neckline was revealing, more so than she was used to.
But her mother had insisted the cut was appropriate.
Mama had lent her a matching emerald pendant and earrings that sparkled as she moved her head back and forth.
It would be her first London ball since…
Summer was not usually a busy time in London.
But with the coronation of George IV at the end of the week, everyone had returned to Town.
She was thankful for the past month, mingling with old friends and meeting new ones, as she navigated her way back into the throng of society.
She realized she’d missed the excitement of the ton’s nightlife.
Her fingers trembled as she adjusted her earrings. Tonight would be the night. She felt it in her gut, in her bones. In her heart.
It had been almost a month since William had asked permission to court her.
She couldn’t imagine even a week passing without seeing him.
He had become a vital part of her life in such a short time.
They took in Hyde Park weekly, sometimes with friends, other times alone.
He took her to the theater, to concerts at Vauxhall, and introduced her to the mute swans in St. James’s Park.
They had visited museums, exhibits—including the Automaton Exhibition at Gothic Hall in Haymarket.
They had watched a mechanical boy write in both English and French and a female figure play the harpsichord.
The world was changing so quickly, she wondered what other fascinating inventions would astound the next generation.
“Are you ready, dear?” called her mother from the hall. “You know how punctual your father is. I’ve never been able to convince him that being slightly late is fashionable.”
Lady Baldwin wore an azure silk gown with a sheer lace overlay. Her hair twinkled with tiny paste diamonds, and her earrings, pendant, and bracelet enclosed round, translucent aquamarines. Lord Baldwin waited by the front entrance, his top hat and cane in hand, and a smile on his face.
“You are on time,” he remarked with a low bow for both ladies. He was dressed to the nines in a black waistcoat, tails, and trousers. Diamond cufflinks winked as he placed his hat on his head and held his arm out to his wife. “Shall we, ladies?”
Once the carriage took its place behind the other waiting guests, Tia opened the window and looked out at the crescent of townhouses.
The queue ran the entire length of the crescent, and she began tapping her foot impatiently.
It would be another hour before they were let out in front of the ducal home and announced to the other guests.
Another hour before she would see William.
“Don’t be nervous, my sweet,” said her mother.
“What’s the chit got to be nervous about?” barked her father.
“We think Mr. Page will propose tonight,” said Lady Baldwin.
He snorted. “About time. He’s as speedy as a sloth.”
“Papa, it’s only been a month,” pointed out Tia.
He made a grunting noise and took out his fob, checked the time, and closed it with a snap. “What’s the point in a man being punctual if the rest of the world ignores the time?”
Lady Baldwin smirked and winked at Tia, who grinned back at her.
“They will be announced when they arrive, you know,” said Charles.
“What?”
“You don’t have to keep staring at the entrance. We’ll hear them announced.”
Will stood with his close friend Charles Wilkens and his wife.
William also had a working relationship with Mr. Wilkens.
Charles referred cases that might interest Will, either a profitable case to enhance Will’s name among the nobility or one that might be considered charity. Meaning little to no fee.
“I feel like I’m presenting for the first time in court.” Will pressed his palms against his dark-blue trousers. His tailcoat was the same shade, with a striped waistcoat of the same blue and silver. He’d added a silver pin with the family crest to his cravat.
“You’ll stutter a bit, she’ll say yes, you’ll kiss her, and it’ll all be over,” said Charles.
“Is that how easy it was for you?” asked Charles’s wife, Phoebe.
She was a dark beauty, the opposite of her fair husband.
Her auburn hair shone with red beneath chandeliers holding hundreds of candles, and it complemented her claret-colored gown.
She was a viscount’s daughter—Lord Weston, who was married to Will’s sister, Annette.
Charles opened his mouth to argue, but his wife laughed. “I’m teasing, dear,” she said. “He’s right, though. She’s lovely, and it’s obvious she adores you.”
“Not as much as I adore her,” he said sheepishly. The past month had been a whirlwind of activities, too much work, and the conclusion that he and Tia would be happy together. She had already met his brother Lucius and his wife, Christiana, and Annette and her husband, Lord Weston.
How small the world was, he thought, when so many people could be connected to each other in one way or another.
And then the most stunning woman in London stepped through the doorway, brilliant in emerald-green silk, and he thought his heart would stutter to a stop. “Pardon me,” he said, walking away from the chuckles of his friends.
“Lord and Lady Baldwin,” he greeted Tia’s parents with a bow.
“Be glad when this night is over, eh?” said Lord Baldwin with an elbow to Will’s side.
“Papa!” Tia gasped in horror.
Will frowned, trying to understand the viscount’s intent.
“All this hullaballoo with the coronation. I’ll be happy when the city is back to normal.” He cleared his throat. “I’m off to find a drink.”
“May I get something for either of you?” Will asked Tia and her mother.
“Not yet,” said Lady Baldwin. “Do you mind if I speak with Lady Franksen? She just waved at me by the patio doors.”
“Of course not,” said Will, watching the viscountess as she disappeared into the crush. “How could she possibly see anyone in this crowd?”
“You saw me,” reminded Tia.
“That’s different. You are a shining star in this sea of bodies.” With a grin, he held out his arm, and they ventured into said sea.
Three hours later, Will decided it was time. Tia was returning from a quadrille with a marquess’s son, and he’d already procured a glass of punch. She accepted it gratefully, thanked the too-friendly lord for the dance, and turned pleading eyes on Will.
“Would you like to walk in the garden?” he asked, knowing the answer.
He found a ledge to set down the glass, and they took the steps down into the dim courtyard.
Lanterns were placed strategically so guests could see the walking paths.
Tia hummed softly as they made their way to the bubbling fountain at the center.
A large stone fish with a gaping mouth spat out bubbling water into the basin below.
“Some gentlemen were discussing the Irish emancipation bill that passed the House of Commons but failed in the Lords,” Tia began as they passed another couple moving down a side path.
Why did she always do this? Bring up politics or the most depressing subjects—the rookeries, the lack of autonomy for the poor, the high taxes breaking the farmers. Could she not just enjoy their time without always casting a shadow?
“Yes,” he said, trying to stay neutral so the conversation didn’t take a confrontational tone. “Rights for the Irish will happen, but it will take time.”
“How long? These people are under British domain and pay taxes like other citizens. Why are they not allowed to vote and run for public positions?” Her voice took on the radical tone she always adopted when speaking of society’s wrongdoings.
“I don’t know. I’m not a member of Parliament, so I cannot say. Though until public opinion turns, the Lords will continue to vote against it.”
“Do you even care?” she asked as they stopped at the fountain, water gurgling behind them.
He blinked and turned narrow eyes on her. “Tia, tonight is not the time—”
“It’s never the time,” she blurted. “I bring up a topic, ask your opinion on it, and you turn the subject to something mundane and safe. Do you think me too simple to understand such complex situations? Do you discuss them with your male friends?”
Will pinched his nose with finger and thumb, trying to quell the irritation. “Yes, I do discuss these matters when I’m with other barristers. In my position, I need to stay current on political issues.”
“It seems to me that you don’t have any passion for those who have less than us. Are you one of those younger sons of a nobleman who went into law for leisure? Safer than the military and not so dull as the Church?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her dark eyes sparking fury.
“I resent that, Tia,” he said evenly. “I represent some of those unfortunates. You have no idea what I see—”
“Then tell me, so I won’t think the worst of you.”
It was a slap in the face. “Think the worst of me?” The anger in his chest grew, and he lost his temper.
“What about you? Acting like a spoiled viscount’s daughter, pretending she knows about the evils in the world.
You have no idea what suffering is, but woe to the man who tries to shield you from it. ”
He let out a breath and scrubbed his face with a hand. Where had this gone so wrong? There would be no proposal tonight, and the heaviness returned, slamming onto his shoulders with more weight than before.
“I’ve suffered, William. I lost my—”
“Yes, yes, you lost your fiancé. It was traumatic. But everyone loses at least one loved one during their lifetime. Add poverty and hunger to that.” The pain in her eyes halted his next words. He’d gone too far.
Her hand came up to slap him, and he blocked it out of reflex.
The action caught her off-balance, and she went tumbling toward the water basin beneath the fountain.
Will tried to catch her and pulled her back, but not before her backside made contact.
He set her upright on her feet as she gasped and flapped her hands at him.
“You’re intolerable. You pushed me!” she cried, trying to turn and see the damage to her gown.
“I didn’t push you,” he said, seeing the wet stain spread across her bum. He pressed his lips together, trying to hold back the laugh, but failed.
“Do. Not. Laugh. At. Me.” Her voice rose, shrill and panicked. Two other couples peeked around the bushes from side paths, eyes wide. “My gown is ruined. I cannot go back inside. What will I do?”
Will ran a hand over his face again, still chuckling. Florentia was gorgeous when she was angry, and he wanted to ravish her right there. Kiss away her ire and make her understand how much…
She was stomping away.
“I love you, Florentia Baldwin,” he said, hurrying after her. He caught up with her before she reached the stairs leading to the ballroom.
She put a foot on the first step and hesitated. “I cannot go in there looking like this.”
“No, you can’t,” he agreed, grinning. “But I can. Shall I fetch your mother?”
“Yes, please.”
He took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he turned and yelled down at her, “I said I love you, Florentia Baldwin.”
Tia rolled her eyes. “Then find my mother,” she huffed.