The Bluestocking's Dilemma Page 16

  “I am not at all certain I shall like that,” Caro admitted ruefully, “but I shall do my best not to put Violette and you to shame. They are lovely though, are they not?” From a purely artistic point of view, Caro was entranced by the skill and originality of the designs. Created to enhance rather than overwhelm the wearer, the gowns owed their distinctiveness to elegant flowing lines and exquisite materials instead of being overloaded with distracting frills, ruchings, rouleaux, and lozenges. And Caro was also forced to acknowledge that she was quite looking forward to seeing whether the dresses could actually transform her as much as Violette’s sketches seemed to suggest.

  “Well, what do you say, Susan? Will they do?” She cocked an inquiring eyebrow at her maid.

  “Oh, yes, Ma’am! This lady seems to understand just what sort of person you are. She won’t force you into something that will make you feel as though you’re wearing the Countess of Welham’s castoffs nor will you look just like everyone else. When you wear these, you will still feel like Lady Caroline Waverly—just as individual as ever, only a trifle more à la mode. “

  Caro laughed. “What a trial I must have been to you, Susan, eccentric that I am. I shall try to do better, I promise.”

  “Oh, no, Ma’am.” Susan was aghast. “You aren’t strange—leastways not like the Duchess of Oldenburg is, only you are just different.’’ Worried lest she be misunderstood, Susan hastened to add, “But it is a good sort of different. Your mind is on higher things, and that makes you ever so much more interesting. You know about so many things and can do so many things. Why, you know as much as most men. Besides, it makes you so much kinder than most ladies. It’s just, it’s just . . .” the maid hesitated, knowing the elevated nature of her mistress’s principles in certain matters.

  “It’s just what? Don’t be shy, Susan. You are a bright observant girl and I value your opinions.”

  The little maid blushed-with pleasure. “Why, thank you, Ma’am. It’s just that you are so lovely too, but you don’t know or care about it. Ladies like the countess who spend every waking moment trying to be as beautiful as possible are the ones who attract all the attention when you’re so much nicer than all of them. ‘Tisn’t fair. Why should they have all the beaux? I know you don’t wish to have lots of admirers and you don’t wish to be married, but . . . but, it would be nice to have someone—as a friend at least,’’ she finished up in a rush, fearing that perhaps she had gone too far.

  Caro remained silent for some time, a pensive look clouding the gray eyes. “Perhaps you are right, Susan,” she replied at last. “It would be nice to have someone.” There was a wistful note in her voice that Susan had never heard before. It saddened the little maid greatly to think that someone as selfish as the Countess of Welham never lacked for admirers while someone as loving and generous as her mistress always seemed to be alone. Not any longer if I have any say in the matter, she promised herself. I must have a talk with this Mrs. Winwood privately and make her see how important it is that my mistress attract the admiration that is due her.

  Resourceful as she was, Susan was not at all certain how this plan was to be put into effect, but fortunately Caro herself paved the way for the scheme. Looking just the slightest bit sheepish, she admitted, “Mrs. Winwood knows that I wish to keep our relationship private, so I am to visit her for my fittings. I do hope you’ll accompany me, though, as I rely on your judgment to make sure I am not being led astray. And perhaps you will be able to think how I should dress my hair, for I feel certain that the way it is done now will not answer if I am to burst forth on the ton in a completely new wardrobe.”

  “Of course, I shall be happy if I can assist. Thank you, Ma’am.” Susan was so flattered by her mistress’s regard for her abilities, so enchanted at the prospect of watching the transformation, and so eager to see a real modiste at work, that she was at a loss for ways to express her gratitude. But the excitement in her eyes and the joy in her voice were more than enough for her mistress, who herself was becoming more enthusiastic by the minute. For Susan, who had at first aspired to no greater glory than that of maid to a lady of fashion, seeing the sketches that showed what dress could do to make a face and figure appear its most elegant and attractive, now set her sights on becoming one of those women whose art and skill gave their patronesses such power in the ton. Nor did she plan to stop at merely working in one of the elegant establishments she had seen while doing errands on Bond Street. She was determined one day to own one. Susan was not precisely sure how this was to come about, but she vowed that one day ladies would be vying with one another to have a gown created by Mademoiselle Suzanne.

  In fact, by the time they arrived at Henrietta Street, Caro was quite looking forward to an experience she had customarily viewed as something of an ordeal. Violette welcomed them cordially. “Lady Caroline, I am delighted you are come, and so soon. I take it that you approve. And this is the Susan you made mention of.” She smiled warmly at them both and led them to a spot in the drawing room that was bathed in northern light. “There.” She placed Caro in the center. “Now I am afraid you must endure the rest with as much patience as you can muster while Susan and I take care of the details. Susan, do you come here and hold this, and mind, stop me if you see anything amiss.”

  Thus, without having to put herself forward in the slightest, the little maid found herself not only invited to join her mistress, but consulted from time to time. At first, she hesitated to offer her opinion, but as time wore on, she was solicited more and more frequently for her thoughts on this material or that particular draping. It soon became clear to her that there was no need for her to voice her sentiments to Mrs. Winwood, for she could see that their hostess had taken her mistress’s success as closely to heart as Susan had. Indeed, there was a leading tone to the questions with which Violette plied her customer that made Susan wonder if perhaps their hostess had as great a stake in Lady Caroline’s transformation as the lady did herself.

  Did the Countess of Welham still enjoy her customary ascendance over the ton? Were the admirers as plentiful as ever? Who was her modiste? And, when informed of this person’s identity, she gave a deprecatory Gallic shrug but there was no hiding the sly smile. Susan wondered at this and hoped against hope that this meant Mrs. Winwood felt secure in her abilities to outshine this high priestess at whose altar the countess was a devoted worshipper.

  Some hours later, as they emerged exhausted but triumphant from the Winwoods’ elegant abode, Caro turned to her maid and, flushed with enthusiasm, the light of battle in her eyes, demanded, “Well, Susan, what do you think? Am I like to take the ton by storm?”

  “Oh, yes, Ma’am!”

  Caro laughed. “I most certainly shall not, but at the very least, I shall no longer be labeled as antidote. And to be quite honest, I feel a good deal more inspired than I was. Violette was so kind that I feel I must make a push to do credit to her inspiration.”

  But Susan was not to be put off. “Mark my words, what with the dresses Mrs. Winwood has created, the new coiffures I picture, and your own elegant conversation, you will be the latest sensation, I predict.”

  Once again, her mistress could not contain her mirth. “It is not likely to happen, but I thank you for your faith in me.”

  We shall see, Lady Caroline. Susan smiled smugly to herself. When Mrs. Winwood and I have finished, no one will be able to look anywhere else and won’t that just make the Countess of Welham sit up and stare.

  The little maid had grown more accustomed to life at the rigidly formal Welham house, but she was no more enamored of its inhabitants than she had been at the outset and resented their lack of appreciation for her mistress as much as if not more than, their coldness to her. A quick and clever girl with neat ways about her and a willingness to help, Susan had finally recommended herself to the redoubtable housekeeper and that guardian of propriety, Wigmore, so that she was now able to elicit a “good morning” from these two pillars of the establishment. But she longed fo
r the easy intercourse of Waverly Court and the cozy evenings spent around the kitchen fire with William and Mrs. Crawford discussing all manner of things. Then, too, it was strange, though the servants at Welham House talked of nothing but “my lady must have this” or “my lady always does it that way”, they did not appear to care for her at all—quite the opposite in fact. They were proud of the whims and caprices, the exacting demands that made their lives so difficult and attested to the fact that their mistress was the spoiled darling of the ton. Such slavish devotion made no sense to Susan. How could one possibly devote one’s entire existence to someone who barely knew one’s name and cared less? But the reflected glory of the Countess of Welham seemed to suffice for Wigmore and his minions. Susan was glad her mistress was a human being instead of a demanding goddess and she longed to prove Caro’s superiority to all these toadies who, taking their mistress’s lead, discounted her as nothing but a dowdy bluestocking.

  Chapter 19

  For the time being, however, the fashionable world was forced to await the appearance of a rival to the claims of such an incomparable as the beautiful Countess of Welham. Lady Caroline had a far more important social commitment, which was to take the air with Ceddie and Clarence,

  “For we have been waiting forever to ride with you, Cousin Caro,” Ceddie volunteered as they headed for the park that afternoon.

  “You have?” she asked in some astonishment. “But I thought you were enjoying yourselves with Tim and John Coachman.”

  “Oh, them. They’re the best of good fellows but they are rather cautious because Mama is so worried about our riding in the first place and they don’t want to offend Mama. She can be a trifle sharp at times, you know,” Clarence explained in a shy undertone.

  “Mama is a worrywart.” Ceddie, more forthright than his brother, was not one to beat around the bush.

  “Oh, ah.” Caro, being in complete agreement, was left without a thing to say. Fortunately, before she was forced into indiscreet comment, a shout broke out from Ceddie.

  “Look! It’s Uncle Tony and Lord Daventry and his sister. ‘‘He waved vigorously and trotted off to join the group of riders heading purposefully in their direction.

  “Hello, Ceddie, Clarence, Caro. Bang-up day isn’t it? Your seats are improving a great deal, lads, but look at Clary, would you? She’s on her way to becoming a true horsewoman,’’ Tony greeted them jovially.

  “How you do go on, Tony! You always were given to hyperbole,” Clary laughed. “However, I admit to having become an enthusiastic equestrienne, thanks to Caro,” she concluded softly, smiling gratefully in Caro’s direction.

  Seeing the happiness in her face and observing the confidence with which Lady Clarissa maneuvered her mount, Caro could not help feeling pleased with herself. Though Caro might command fewer admirers and less attention than Lavinia, she was at least able to bring happiness to those who deserved it.

  Such a thought was not unique to Caro. Nicholas took the earliest opportunity to move Caesar in next to her. “I have not yet had the opportunity to thank you properly for all you have done on my sister’s behalf. She is a changed person. Thank you.”

  There was such warmth and gratitude in the deep blue eyes that, unaccustomed as she was to attracting attention, Caro did not know where to look. “Oh, it was nothing, my lord. I may be a ‘ferocious bluestocking,’ but I am not without human feeling you know. And when I see people who, but for a little encouragement, could more fully enjoy their lives, I make a push to help them do so.”

  “I am sure you do,” Nicholas responded. “And do you always set about putting the world to rights with such reforming zeal?”

  There was something in his voice—the slightest hint of amusement perhaps—that set Caro’s back up. “Not at all, my lord. I do it merely when others are too blind to see what needs to be done,’’ she retorted stiffly. Caro knew she sounded like the worst sort of prig, but she could not help herself. She could not bear to have genuine sympathy for her fellow creatures written off as though it were the queer start of some moralizing spinster who had nothing better to do with her life than offer advice about everyone else’s.

  Nicholas could see that he had inadvertently struck a nerve. He had only intended the lightest of remarks but had not counted on Caro’s prickly defensiveness over her role in society. It was a great deal too bad because he genuinely liked and admired her, finding her ready enthusiasm, intelligence, and quick wit quite charming. “Relax, my girl. I was merely observing that you exhibit more concern for your fellows than the average citizen. It is to be commended.” Bother! He sounded as stiff as she did. Why was it that he was able to converse lightly and easily with the likes of Lavinia and Sally Jersey, but when it came to discussing serious matters with this woman, who had something of purpose to say, the two of them seemed to circle each other like wary animals.

  Observing their mutual discomfort, and concerned that both Lady Caroline and the Marquess of Everleigh reveal to each other only their most attractive sides, Clarissa hastened to rescue the situation before it could deteriorate any further. “You are privileged to see Nicky today. Since perusing the debate in the Edinburgh Review on the “Causes and Cures of Pauperism,” he has been burying himself in discussions and readings of the Poor Laws, which, though it proves him to be a most responsible citizen, makes him a nonexistent escort and an exceedingly dull companion,” she complained teasingly. But though the remark and provocation were directed at her brother. Clary was closely scrutinizing his companion.

  Clary was not disappointed. Caro was oddly moved that he should be reading the same thing and her eyes lit up. “I believe you mentioned before that you had read such an article, but we were interrupted. I had not thought to find someone such as you concerned with such things. I ...” She colored when she realized the infelicitous nature of her comment. “I do beg your pardon. I didn’t mean it to sound so odiously condescending. It’s just...”

  “It’s just that you didn’t expect that from such an arrogant constructor of canals,” Nicholas teased. Then, seeing that she truly was embarrassed, he continued, “Don’t refine upon it too much, Lady Caroline. I quite understand. If there were more people who were concerned about the desperate straits of many of the people in this country, we shouldn’t be in the fix we are in now. I am not by nature a politician, but I cannot bear to see the gallant fellows who fought with me tossed back on the streets with no hope of earning their keep with the price of bread as high as it is. That is why I feel it imperative to put to peaceful use the industry that had its inception in the war and my canal just one way to cheapen and improve the transportation of the materials we need.” His eyes twinkled ruefully. “And now I sound as odiously condescending as the best of self-righteous reformers.”

  Caro wrinkled her brow. “I quite agree that something needs to be done, but it will take years for industry to raise the general level of the poor’s condition. I believe that with just a little attention paid to our agricultural practices, we could do much more to the purpose to help by producing more abundantly and for less. Then people will not have to leave the land and their villages in order to earn more in the crowded cities where life is so wretched.”

  Though Nicholas did not entirely agree with Caro, there was something in the earnestness of her look that he found infinitely attractive, quite apart from the ideas she was putting forth. “Quite possibly you are in the right of it.” Catching the stubborn lift of her chin, he paused. “Now don’t poker up at me. I quite agree that in theory ‘tis an excellent scheme, but who is to say that farmers who adopt your principles—and knowing the way such people resist change, they will be few and far between—and are able to produce more, will not try to increase their price as well, so the poor laborer will be left with the same, if not a higher price, for bread. Not everyone is as high-minded as you are, you know.”

  The kindling look in Caro’s eye made Nicholas realize that somehow he had managed to insult her again when he had only
meant to applaud her good intentions. For someone who cared little about the approbations of the ton, she was extraordinarily sensitive about some things—though just what those were, he could not fathom.

  For her part, Caro could not precisely say what it was that bothered her. Perhaps it was the tone in his voice when he called her high-minded that reminded her of his opinion of her as a bluestocking; perhaps it was that she had hoped he would regard her more as a kindred spirit rather than an intellectual oddity. Whatever it was, she could not help bridling. “I am not some ‘high-minded’ reformer with my head in the clouds, my lord. I have seen such a scheme work. It is purely a matter of the market, and when one person is successful at producing more from the same plot of land, the others are forced to follow suit. It is merely a matter of self-interest.”

  Nicholas grinned. So that was it! It was his vision of her as one of those fearsomely intellectual women that somehow rankled. He was glad to know that his opinion counted for so much. So often, he had felt inadequate, when her clear gray eyes had happened to catch him pandering to Lavinia, that he could not help being grateful that he could make her uneasy too. There was no doubt that encountering Lady Caroline Waverly was becoming an increasingly unsettling experience for him and, inexplicable as this was, he did not wish to be the only one rendered uncomfortable by this. “You’re a regular little Benthamite, are you not, Lady Caroline?” he teased. Then, seeing that he truly had upset her, his eyes softened. “I did not mean in the least to call into question your opinions. It is just that I have been looking at the same problems from such a very different angle,” he apologized.

  Caro was somewhat mollified. He certainly did appear to be in earnest. No doubt, after Lavinia’s disparaging remarks, she was just being overly sensitive. And he really did seem to be genuinely interested in effecting the same changes as she. It was Caro’s turn to excuse herself. “It’s only that I am not used to being taken at all seriously, you see,” she explained. “I am far more accustomed to being derided than listened to.”