Chapter 8 #2
“Kenilworth, by Sir Walter Scott.” Seraphina snapped the book closed. “It is a lovely story, Mama. I think you would like it if—”
“At present, I would like it to disappear, daughter.”
Seraphina put the book behind her and crossed her arms over her chest, but a narrowing of her mother’s eyes had her adjusting the posture quickly to merely folding her hands in her lap.
“Excellent.” Anne looked them over one more time, then directed her attention to Tamsin. “How far now?”
“Nearly at the door. I can hear the clatter of the hooves.”
A moment later, and they could all hear it. The driver called to the horses, the front door opened, a greeting from a servant, and finally—the door opened.
“Lady Hartwell, Mrs. Mayweather.” Their butler bowed as the lady entered.
All the Mayweather women stood and offered an appropriate curtsy in perfect synchronization. Anne stepped forward, hand extended graciously. “Lady Hartwell, it is an honor to have you call upon us this day. I hope your journey to our home was pleasant.”
The moment Tamsin rose from her curtsy, her eyes went to the baroness.
Her ladyship’s gaze, after acknowledging the welcome, swept the room.
Not rapidly, gracefully taking it in. When her gaze met Tamsin’s, it rested there a moment.
She saw the slight lift of the woman’s brow before she stepped forward to take the chair Anne offered.
The baroness moved with a grace that would make even the most experienced Society matron envious, her gown rippling from knee to foot with a beautiful weight that spoke of fine material.
The cut was tasteful, and Tamsin felt certain she had seen something exactly like it in the most recent Ackerman’s Repository.
“I am grateful you allowed the visit, given it is not your at-home day.” Lady Hartwell’s softness in tone did not make her difficult to understand.
Rather, it made Tamsin want to lean in. Two of her sisters did, adjusting their angles slightly.
With genuine warmth, their guest continued, “I know we have met before, Mrs. Mayweather, and it is certainly time I take greater care with our acquaintance, especially given you have a fourth daughter about to make her debut in Society. Goodness, but they are all such lovely girls. Do remind me who is who?” Her gaze flickered to meet Tamsin’s again.
“Though I know the eldest is Miss Thomasine Mayweather, I should like to be certain of the other three.”
How did she know who Tamsin was? Why call attention to it?
Tamsin’s stepmother momentarily met her gaze, the same question in her eyes, but she hastily answered the lady’s question.
“Thomasine is the eldest, yes, from my husband’s first marriage.
” Perhaps Anne realized such a distinction sounded less familial than she wished.
“I have forever been grateful for her temperament. Mothering her has been a great joy. I do not know how I would manage without her.” Anne’s manner shifted as she spoke the last words, and true warmth entered her tone.
She smiled at Tamsin before gesturing to her three daughters as she introduced each by name and age.
“Ah, so it is Miss Daphne who will soon enter the public sphere.” Lady Hartwell folded her hands elegantly in her lap in a gesture Pearl immediately copied. “Are you ready for all the excitement of that step, my dear?”
Daphne glanced quickly at her mother, then answered with a slight tremble, “Oh, e-ever so excited. I am most distracted by thoughts of assemblies and balls.”
That brought a soft, sympathetic laugh from her ladyship.
“Oh, I was precisely the same when I was your age. I could hardly get a thing done, my head was so full of dancing slippers and new steps to try. I did not have any older sisters, though. You will do quite well with them to help, both in soothing and in their support of you. I have been here only a few moments and I can see there is much to admire here. Miss Pearl, for example. You carry yourself with an elegance one cannot help but see.”
Pearl flushed at the praise. Tamsin raised her eyebrows. Lady Hartwell had noticed Pearl’s attempt to copy the baroness, she was certain of it.
Anne, of course, picked up on the most complimentary thread of the conversation.
“They are quite helpful to one another, you know. Not like some sisters who cannot get along. My own sister and I argued frequently, but my daughters—” She shook her head, smiling at each of them in turn. “They are the best of friends.”
The tea arrived, and for a few minutes the room was pleasantly occupied with cups and chocolate cake.
Poor Charles. He would be so disappointed that evening.
Tamsin had risen to accept her tea from her stepmother before returning to her chair. She had barely settled, saucer balanced on her lap and both hands cradling the teacup, when Lady Hartwell’s entire attention focused on Tamsin.
“Miss Mayweather. I do not think I have seen you at many of the assemblies or events. Did you attend the races this year? Or the ball last month? I confess, I often surround myself so closely with my dearest acquaintances that other things slip beneath my notice—and I find the summer events rather tedious, so I remain at the family estate during the warmer months.”
Anne looked at Tamsin with wide eyes, the three younger ladies all shifting to look at her. The entire room had tilted in her direction, and Tamsin lowered her cup the better to meet the shift in gravity.
“Oh, I have not been in Society much of late, Lady Hartwell. I attended such things more frequently some years ago, but I have found that I often prefer the quieter pleasures found at home and amid small gatherings of friends. I occupy myself quite pleasantly with books, the company of my family, and the outdoors. The countryside around York is lovely, any time of year.” She kept her tone cordial and glanced at her stepmother with a true smile.
“I think my family would rather I go out more.”
There. She had artfully turned the conversation back to her stepmother. Surely that was acceptable?
Except Lady Hartwell did not appear to be finished with Tamsin.
“Oh, indeed. The country around our fair city is marvelous. My sons, when they are in town, slip outside its walls frequently in search of exercise or distraction. I am given to understand the view from the wall is magnificent. Have you spent any time walking along those ancient stones, Miss Mayweather?”
That was a rather specific question. How interesting. Perhaps her ladyship alluded to the interaction with her eldest son?
“Not recently, no. The last time I was even near them was when my littlest brother, Henry, and I met his lordship’s dogs.
We were upon the street walk, however, returning home from a small errand.
” That should settle the curiosity on that matter, surely.
“I am rarely inside the city without purpose, my lady.”
“Ah. Quite understandable. Though as someone who has lived nearby your whole life, I imagine you have favorite places to visit. I am always in awe of the number of medieval chapels we have, scattered across every city street.” Her ladyship’s smile was kind, but there was a hint, the barest lift in her words, to suggest a question.
“Oh. Yes.” Did she have a favorite place in town?
There were many lovely sights, and quite a few less enjoyable.
“I think one of my favorite treasures is St. Mary’s, on Castlegate.
Near your house, Lady Hartwell. It is quite hidden, I think, tucked back with so many newer buildings.
It is a testament to the history and progress of York. ”
Lady Hartwell tipped her head to the side in such a slight, subtle way Tamsin would not have seen it were she not watching her ladyship carefully. She did not reply for a moment, simply looked at Tamsin with the expression of one who had discovered an interesting new thought.
She was not ready to share her discovery, however, as she turned her most genteel smile to Anne again.
“I do like sharing my street with that lovely old edifice. We have attended services there several times, though my late husband preferred the Minster’s grandeur.
” She turned the conversation to other, more common matters: thoughts on gardens and planting roses, another change in conversation following when Anne demurred on her knowledge of flowers.
Her ladyship drew in the younger girls again with discussions of fashion magazines and seamstresses, and whether better dresses really did come from London or Paris.
As they ate cake, Tamsin found herself studying the baroness with interest. Apart from her pointed questions to Tamsin, everything else about her visit was quite normal.
Or as normal as tea could be with a baroness present.
At last her ladyship looked at the clock on the mantel and placed her empty cake plate on the little table. “That was the most delicious chocolate cake I have had in an age. Would you part with the recipe? I would dearly love to see if my cook can replicate it.”
“Of course, your ladyship. I will have it sent to you,” Anne said with a pleased and perfectly polite smile. “It is a favorite in our family.”
Tamsin saw her sisters exchange a glance, and Pearl mouthed, “Poor Charles.”
Her ladyship rose, and the room with her. “I must take my leave, but I have enjoyed this half hour a great deal. I am most disappointed in myself for not undertaking it before. I can see you are a remarkable family of proper and very pretty ladies.”
It was high praise, indeed—the sort anyone rarely voiced directly to those who had earned it. Tamsin couldn’t quite understand. What was her ladyship up to? A neighborly visit had clearly been an excuse, but for what?