Chapter Five #2
The governess’s eyes scanned the table. She had heard some of what Lady Burroughs had said and understood why the girls all suddenly looked so self-conscious.
She smiled at them all, but addressed Gwendolyn’s mother.
“Lady Burroughs, Lady Maynard was asking after you, earlier. She is with Lady Sefton and Countess Lieven, discussing the upcoming ball at Almack’s and I said I would let you know. ”
Lady Burroughs looked up sharply, her eyes narrowed.
“It would not do to disappoint them if they have asked for my company in particular.” She stood up, sweeping the train of her lavender silk gown over her arm.
Leaning over Gwendolyn, she hissed, “This is my chance to make amends for you, so do not do anything to spoil your chances of being readmitted to Almack’s. ”
Once her mother, smiling as pleasantly as she was able, was out of earshot, Gwendolyn slapped her fan onto the table and growled.
“You sound just like the sheepdog Gyp when you do that,” Mariana said.
The tightness in Gwendolyn’s shoulders eased and she laughed.
“I do feel as if I could bite something right now. I know I must be very wicked, but when I am told to be particularly well-behaved, it makes me want to shout as loudly as I can and run around the garden knocking teacups out of people’s hands.
And I really do not care about being expelled from Almack’s.
It’s a fussy old place run by even fussier old ladies. ”
“That might be so but it is wiser not to proclaim such heresies in the midst of a gathering of the ton,” Isolde said. “The approval of Society is all that separates us from the women regarded as wicked and wanton.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a wicked and wanton woman,” Bonnie said. “Or a wicked and wanton man.”
Mariana tilted her head to the side. “Why is it that men are not usually described as wanton? When they show interest in a woman, they are considered strong and virile. It is ladies who are labeled as promiscuous and dissolute when they behave in exactly the same way.”
Miss Saunders glanced around the table. “Ladies,” she emphasized, “these are not matters to be discussed by innocent girls.”
“But how can I know if a gentleman is wicked if we don’t discuss such things?” Bonnie insisted. “I think a man who is wicked might be far more interesting than one who is bland and prim and proper. I would be bored to death if I had to marry someone like Mr. Barret.”
Constance Saunders shook her head. “That is a dire thought, but is a conversation for another time. Right now, your mother has asked for your help at the tea table. Perhaps you and the rest of these ladies could help to pour the tea and coffee.”
The girls responded good-naturedly and followed Bonnie to the tea tables.
Grace was the last to rise from the table.
Miss Saunders placed her hand on the arm of the girl who had been in her charge for many years.
“Not you, Miss Blythe. Your mother would like you to join her and Major Enderby in greeting some of the guests.”
The blood drained from Grace’s face. “Must I? When the major is nearby, my tongue seems to be thick and heavy and I do not know what to say.”
Constance was troubled by her former pupil’s response and she sat down in the chair recently vacated by Bonnie. “Grace, if you are not sure about marrying Major Enderby, it is not too late to speak to your father.”
Grace stared at something on the table. “Mama arranged this breakfast to celebrate the betrothal. It would cause a scandal if I withdrew from the arrangement now.”
Constance placed her hand over Grace’s which were still clenched in her lap.
“Your happiness is much more important than the silly opinions of people in Society. If you do not love the major, then marrying him is not advisable. It is not wise to sacrifice your happiness to appease society for a moment.”
“Marry in haste, repent at leisure,” Grace quoted.
There was a touch of bitterness in her voice that her governess had never heard before.
“Major Enderby is an admirable man and everyone agrees that I am the most fortunate of women to have secured his attention, but he is formidable and I am tongue-tied whenever he says anything to me. He laughed more when I first met him and our conversations were relaxed and easy.” Her voice dropped and she added, almost to herself, “But now he is tense and distracted, although he finds it comfortable to talk to other women.”
Miss Saunders said nothing more, but accompanied Grace across the lawns to where Major Enderby was greeting some of Mrs. Blythe’s acquaintances.
*
Roland Montgomery and his cousin sauntered towards the tea tables.
Against his better judgment, he was drawn to where Gwendolyn, looking very sweet and pretty in her sprigged muslin gown, was pouring tea into dainty china cups.
His steps faltered as he had a sudden and unexpected image of her seated like that every morning at his breakfast table, handing him a cup of tea as they talked about the latest developments in parliament and the work that needed to be done on the estate.
He closed his eyes hard to erase the image and the odd feelings that the picture evoked. When he opened them again, he moved a little closer to her table, standing slightly behind her while she poured tea for Sir Percy.
It struck him that none of the ladies who were attending the Venetian breakfast had approached her table and the men who had were those whose morals were a little loose.
The tightness around the corners of Gwendolyn’s mouth and the rigidity of her shoulders indicated that she was aware of who thought her company as agreeable and a vulnerability in her eyes suggested she regretted her momentary indiscretion that had created the situation she now faced.
Something akin to pity rose in his heart and he had an absurd notion that it would be very pleasant to place his hands over the bare skin of her back and massage the knots of tension that had most likely formed there.
He could almost feel the silken softness of her skin and smell the rose-scented oil he would use as his hands swept over her, easing away the pain of rejection.
His wandering thoughts were jerked back to the present by the approach of Major Enderby. He nodded briefly when someone congratulated him on his imminent marriage but did not reply.
Sir Percy took his cup of tea from Gwendolyn with a smirk. “Thank you, Miss Burroughs. Will you be dispensing other favors later on? I believe there is a pretty little arbor at the side of the garden where we are not likely to be disturbed.”
Outrage flooded through Roland. He took a step forward, but Major Enderby was quicker. He moved between Percy and Gwendolyn, the sunlight glinting brightly off the medals on his chest. “That is no way to speak to a lady, Calver, especially one who is a guest of your host.”
His words were mild but his tone was steely and Sir Percy backed away. “Just teasing. Miss Burroughs and I are old friends and she is well-acquainted with my sense of humor.”
The major said nothing more but stared until Sir Percy vanished into the throng of guests milling around the lawn. Then he smiled down at Gwendolyn. “I take my tea with one lump of sugar and just a touch of milk, Miss Burroughs.”
She prepared the tea to the major’s liking and when she handed it to him, she looked directly into his eyes. “Thank you.” Her words were soft but Roland could hear them.
The major smiled again. “It is my pleasure to assist a lady in whatever dire situation she finds herself facing.” He stayed behind her chair as she served more gentlemen who came to get a cup of tea and to flirt even briefly with Gwendolyn.
When there was a slight pause, he spoke to her again, mentioning the tune the musicians were playing.
He said nothing more than what was appropriate between a lady and a gentleman of slight acquaintance, but Montgomery, who had also remained near the table, was aware of an underlying warmth between them.
He should not have been either surprised or envious, but he was both.
What the deuce was the major doing, declaring his intentions for Miss Blythe and yet cultivating a relationship with the beautiful Miss Burroughs?
Montgomery stalked away without getting a cup of tea.
He needed something much stronger if he were to endure the rest of this afternoon.
He was hardly aware of where he was headed or who spoke to him as he passed, relying on his good breeding to respond automatically to greetings.
At the quieter end of a terrace, he sank down onto a stone seat and gave himself a severe scolding.
“You are far too old and sensible to behave like a lovesick schoolboy. Gwendolyn Burroughs is nothing but trouble.”
Robert Walker’s sardonic laugh interrupted him. “It seems we are both thwarted in love, cousin, as you predicted.”
Roland straightened his shoulders. “I am not in love and neither have I been thwarted. Miss Burroughs is an unusual woman whose situation has made her interesting. What has thwarted your latest venture?”
Robert’s sigh came from as deep as his boots. “The younger Miss Blythe has a very devoted mother who thinks that I am not good company for her daughter.”
Roland laughed, not unkindly. “Ah, Mrs. Blythe is happy to extend some protection to the wounded Gwendolyn but she will ensure that her daughter does not endure the same fate. You had better give up your quest.”
“Indeed, I will not. Our family motto is Nunquam cede and I will succeed. Although,” he added as the two left their sheltered spot, “I might have more luck with Gwendolyn. The amount of money in the betting book is significant and I saw a hunter at Tattersall’s that I would like to buy.”
*
Gwendolyn surveyed the few cups left on the table. The crush of gentlemen around her table had trickled away, although she noted that quite a few guests were still waiting at Bonnie’s table. She sighed deeply and poured herself a cup, adding three lumps of sugar.
She took a sip and grimaced. It was too sweet even for her and she pushed it aside.
Her eyes wandered over the groups of guests and rested thoughtfully on Major Enderby.
He was standing a few feet away from Grace, who was politely listening as Lady Sefton regaled a group with her views on the courses served at a dinner she had recently attended at Carlton House.
The major seemed to sense that he was being watched. He turned towards her and gave a quick bow, but he did not smile. At the same moment, Gwendolyn noticed Lord Roland Montgomery watching her from the end of the terrace. She scowled.
“Ah, Miss Burroughs, here is something that will cheer you up.” A glass of champagne was placed in front of her. She looked up at Robert Walker’s lazy smile.
“Thank you. That will be refreshing.” She swallowed a large mouthful. The fizz bubbled through her, leaving a trail of sparkles. She took another gulp.
Robert pulled out a chair and sat down, not close enough to touch her, but close enough to be intimate enough to cause people nearby to stare, clearly hoping for another chapter to the scandal.
“I like champagne,” she said. “But Mama prefers me not to drink it too often. She says orgeat or lemonade are more ladylike. The one is too sweet and the other too bitter.”
“I am sure your mother will not be unhappy that you are enjoying champagne now,” Robert said. “After all, many people are expecting us to form some kind of attachment.”
Gwendolyn gulped down the rest of the contents of her glass. “I don’t mean to form any serious attachments until my Third Season. I prefer to enjoy myself before I settle down.”
He grinned. “I will not prevent you from dancing with as many gentlemen as you choose, or flirting as outrageously as you like. Just as I wouldn’t expect you to be outraged every time I pay attention to a pretty girl, or stay out late. You and I are very alike and will get along famously.”
Gwendolyn frowned. Robert Walker was easy to talk to and pleasant to dance with, but she had never thought they shared much more than that.
She suddenly realized that silence was spreading around them, like rings of water when a stone was tossed into a lake.
People were not even pretending not to listen.
Her mother pushed through the curious onlookers. Gwendolyn braced for a dressing down. What happened was far worse.
Lady Burroughs held out her hands to Robert. “Mr. Walker, you must come to dinner tomorrow night so you and Lord Burroughs can discuss marriage settlements.”