IV #2
“Aimée is grateful to have a position, Mama. After the dreadful ordeal of escaping from her homeland to a strange shore with two tiny children in hand, she would scrub floors and still be happy.”
“But her family is a noble one,” protested Lady Agnes. “It seemed somehow almost suitable when she was merely providing us the benefit of her exquisite sauces. But to ask her to scrub floors … no, no, Nell. I couldn’t.”
Nell chuckled. “I never said you should, ma’am. I merely said she would not refuse. Our family is also a noble one. You, after all, are the daughter of a marquess, are you not?”
“You know I am, dearest,” her ladyship replied complacently, “and whatever anyone might say, I did not marry beneath myself when I married your dear papa. His birth was respectable and his fortune made him perfectly eligible. But what has that to say to anything?”
“Merely, that if circumstances required it of you, I have no doubt that you would have scrubbed floors in order to keep your children from starving after Papa died.”
Lady Agnes looked doubtful. “I shall not dispute your word, of course, my dear. But I confess I am most grateful that I was never put to such a test.”
“I am also grateful to have been wellborn, Mama, and in a civilized country where people do not cut off one’s head merely because one chances to be well off.
But Aimée and her babies are safe now, and if Cook were to ask her to help with mere plain cooking, she would not object.
Now, do let me help you to some of this ham. I am persuaded that you will enjoy it.”
Lady Agnes agreed that perhaps a small morsel of ham, a bit of cheese, and perhaps even a very small chunk of bread thinly spread with butter would not cause her to burst the seams of her lovely lavender morning gown.
Liberally following her directions, Nell soon placed a plate before her and set another for herself.
“Where is her ladyship this morning?” Kit inquired, sitting back in his chair and nodding when Jeremy asked if anyone would care for more hot tea.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” Nell replied. “I believe she will be down when she is dressed. We are going to Donaldson’s this morning.”
He shook his head. “You will have your hands full, Nell.”
“Don’t be nonsensical. She is already betrothed. It is merely a matter of making her known to the beau monde. Rory will behave with propriety, my dear. It would please me, by and bye, if you would not provoke her.”
“I? Provoke her? Seems to me the boot was on the other foot last night.”
“You were scarcely conciliating, Kit.”
“See here, Nell, if you mean to begin the day by reading me a lecture.”
“I mean no such thing, Kit, and I apologize if it sounded like that.” She smiled coaxingly. “What are your plans for the day?”
He shrugged. “I expect Harry and I will think of something.”
“I cannot conceive why you should wish to spend so much of your time with Harry Seton,” Lady Agnes said, narrowing her eyes.
“I am persuaded that neither your papa nor Sir Henry would approve of the association. Mr. Seton appears to me to be the sort of young man who would sit in a window with his telescope trained on the ladies’ bathing machines. ”
A slight flush on her brother’s cheeks informed Nell that this pastime was not altogether unfamiliar to him, and she judged it time to intervene in the conversation.
“Mr. Seton has been a good friend to Kit, Mama. You know he has. I expect they will join the rest of the world in a stroll on the Steyne. Will you not, Kit?”
He smiled at her gratefully. “I expect so. Will you both excuse me now?”
“What, not leaving on my account, are you, Uncle Kit?”
Rory stood in the doorway, a vision in narrow turquoise-and-pink stripes. Her lovely hair was bound with fillets, à la Greque, and her slimly tailored walking dress showed her trim figure to advantage. She grinned at her uncle, already half out of his chair.
Kit straightened. “Good morning. I trust you slept well.”
Nell hid a smile. Clearly, her brother was determined not to be drawn. Rory stepped forward to inspect the dishes laid out for breakfast “I slept very well, thank you. Good morning, Grandmama, Aunt Nell. Are there any sausages? I adore sausages.”
“Under the silver cover on the left,” Kit directed. “Good day to you, ladies. I’m off.”
“I hope I didn’t scare him away,” Rory said sweetly as she took her place.
“Don’t be absurd, child,” Lady Agnes said with a warm smile. “Gentlemen are always in a rush to begin the day, don’t you know.”
Rory returned the smile and brought her plate to the table, declining Jeremy’s offer of tea and requesting chocolate instead. “Shall we go to Donaldson’s directly after breakfast, Aunt Nell?”
Nell nodded, her mouth full of Yorkshire ham.
“’Tis a fascinating place, Donaldson’s,” offered Lady Agnes. “I purchase my paints there.”
“Goodness! Do you paint, Grandmama?”
“Mama paints elegant little things on velvet and satin,” Nell told her.
“How clever of you! Is it very difficult?”
“Well, not if one finds the proper paints,” Lady Agnes explained. “So many of the dyes are quite wrong and will run or bleed or simply fade away. That is why I go to Donaldson’s. Their supplies are always to be relied upon.”
Once breakfast was over, Nell and Rory collected their hats and gloves, and Nell ordered the landaulet.
“I frequently walk,” she explained, “but Mama would prefer that we take the carriage,” She paused in the entry, waiting for Rory to finish pulling her pink kid gloves on.
It would never do for a lady to be seen departing the house while still in the act of donning her gloves.
Soon they were both ready, however, and Pavingham escorted them to the waiting carriage with a properly stately air.
The carriage took them by way of Edward Street to the Steyne, past the Duke of Marlborough’s house and past Mrs. Fitzherbert’s house with its three arched bays and distinctive first-floor balcony.
The balcony was deserted when they passed, but Nell explained that Mrs. Fitzherbert and the prince often sat there together or with friends and nodded graciously to such passers-by as might merit their notice.
They were set down at the door of Donaldson’s Library, and Nell instructed her coachman to collect them again in an hour.
“That will allow plenty of time for you to become acquainted with the best of the little shops hereabouts. Is there anything in particular you desire to purchase?”
“Only some green ribbons, if I can discover the correct shade,” Rory replied. “I have a bit of the material I want to match in my reticule.”
It was a matter of but a few moments for Rory to inscribe her name and direction in the visitors’ book.
Looking about the library afterward, she professed herself charmed by the decor, but Nell noted that her glances fell a good deal more readily upon the various young men visiting the place than upon the books, art supplies, or card tables. She hid a smile.
“Shall we look for your ribbons now?”
Rory, gazing in rapt admiration at a tall, dark-haired young gentleman in the dashing blue and gold uniform of the prince’s regiment, did not seem to hear her, so Nell patiently repeated her suggestion.
The younger girl turned quite pink and glanced sharply at her. “Oh, yes, of course,” she replied quickly. But she could not resist a look back over her shoulder as they passed out of the library.
“That is not the only uniform you will see, my dear. The town is quite heavily littered with them.”
“Uniform?” Rory shot her a saucy grin. “’Tis not the uniform but the young man in it, Aunt Nell. Was he not the most shockingly handsome gentleman you have ever clapped eyes upon?”
“You only think it is not the uniform,” Nell replied gently, stifling an impulse to remind her niece that she was betrothed.
“In my experience, nearly every young man looks extraordinarily handsome in a uniform. And those Hussar kits are particularly becoming. Just you wait till you see one of them in full dress with his pelisse and silver lace.”
Rory looked dubious, but she did not argue, and they moved on to visit the shops. They soon found her green ribbons, made a good many other trifling purchases, and then Nell suggested they simply stroll for a while and enjoy the sights.
Rory had already exclaimed her astonishment over the changes wrought in the prince’s Marine Pavilion since her previous visit. The onion-domed roof of the stables seemed to her to be something straight out of a fairy tale. She glanced at it again when they emerged from the last shop.
“What a truly magnificent imagination his highness must possess,” she said solemnly.
“What a very expensive imagination would be more to the point,” remarked a dry but familiar voice from the flagway close behind them.
Rory muttered something under her breath, but Nell was grateful to observe that her charge was all smiles as they turned to bid good day to Lord Huntley.
“Good morrow, ladies,” he said with a polite bow. “I chanced to observe you from across the way but decided to await your emergence from that tiny shop before accosting you.” He glanced at their many parcels and lifted an eyebrow. “Have you emptied the shops?”
He was looking very well this morning, Nell thought with a small glow of pleasure as she replied in kind.
He wore a well-cut coat of dark blue superfine over cream-colored pantaloons and tasseled Hessians.
Once again his neckcloth was neat but not extravagant, and his waistcoat of plain light blue moiré silk was typically conservative.
The only glitter about his person was supplied by the four gold buttons on his coat and his heavy gold signet ring.
Rory seemed to notice none of this sartorial elegance. She eyed him with mock—at least, Nell hoped it was mock—disfavor.