The Bluestocking's Dilemma Page 21

  “No, of course you do not,” her companion soothed. “But anyone who spends a moment in conversation with you will find hers empty by comparison. She may appear very well, but the minute she commences speech, she loses a good deal of her charm, while you, by contrast, increase it. Now, unless you show the ton what the alternative to spoiled beauty can be, it will continue to be enamored of women such as she.”

  “Yes, Helena,” Caro responded meekly, but there was a twinkle in her eyes.

  “You could be surprised. If you approach it all in the right frame of mind, you could find yourself tolerably amused.”

  And, realizing the justice of her friend’s remark, Caro resolved to do just that.

  * * * *

  It was wonderful, she reflected to herself as she mounted the stairs to the assembly rooms that evening, what a difference one’s perspective could make. Now that she had made up her mind that the best way to advance the cause of women was to excel in the fashionable world rather than avoid it, she did not feel the usual paralyzing sense of boredom and distaste creeping over her as she surveyed the brilliant assemblage before her. It helped when she caught sight of Tony Mandeville’s large form making its way self-consciously through the crowd, and the expression of astonishment on Lavvy’s face at the sight of her sporting-mad brother in Almack’s hallowed halls was worth whatever ordeal Caro would be forced to face the rest of the evening. Tony’s face lit up when he caught sight of her. “Caro!”

  “Tony, whatever are you doing here?” Lavvy’s tone was a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

  An aggrieved frown clouded the viscount’s ordinarily sunny countenance. “Now Lavvy, I thought you would be pleased as punch to see me here. Why, you’ve been after me for years to come, and now that I have, you don’t seem the least bit glad to see me. Why, I was even about to offer to stand up with you.”

  “I am delighted to see you here,” the countess began acidly, “but you might have seen fit to tell me . . .”

  Whatever animadversions she wished to make on her brother’s character were drowned out by a cheerful voice at her shoulder, “Tony, there you are, old man. Lord, what a crush. I had a devil of a time following you. Hello, Lady Caroline. Happy to see you. Tony thought we might find you here, eh what, Tony?” Captain Allen, beaming happily at Caro as he bowed over her hand only served to exacerbate Lavvy’s annoyance. It was infuriating in the extreme that Tony, who never set foot in Almack’s and who, moreover, had spent a great deal of his life loudly protesting that he would not be caught dead inside that rigidly proper establishment should appear of his own free will now that Caro was here, when his sister had been in dire need of his escort for some time.

  Lavvy was so exasperated she didn’t know which way to look and her ill humor was not improved by the eagerness with which Tony’s friends, who also had never been known to darken Almack’s doors, clustered around Caro. It was outside of enough! Why, the chit didn’t even make the least push to appear presentable, much less take the trouble to ingratiate herself with the ton. If it hadn’t been for Lavvy’s introduction, no one would have paid the least mind to Lady Caroline Waverly, and now, all of a sudden, she was the center of attention. Why, even her own brother, if Lavvy could trust her ears, was asking her to join him in the next country dance. What was this world coming to?

  “Why, whatever is the world coming to?” a gay voice echoed in her ear as Sally Jersey, dripping with diamonds, hurried over to greet them. “Why, Tony, you incorrigible boy, I had never thought we could lure you here. We have done well indeed, or perhaps it is the company.” With a significant look at Caro, the lady smiled dazzlingly up at him. “And to show you just how charmed I am by your presence, I shall allow you to partner me in the quadrille.” Tony, completely out of his depth, blushed like a schoolboy. “Thank you, most honored,” he mumbled.

  The lady laughed and tapped him with her fan. “Don’t be afraid; I shan’t eat you. We shall enjoy ourselves; you will see,” she declared gaily as they headed toward the floor, leaving the others to gaze with varying degrees of amusement after them.

  “Oh, lord, he’s in the basket now. Tony don’t like to dance above half.’’ Lieutenant Forbush was so relieved that it had not happened to him that he was thoroughly enjoying his friend’s discomfiture.

  Even Lavvy found it somewhat diverting to think of her dance-shy brother partnering the patroness of an institution whose very name, until now, had inspired the utmost horror in him.

  They might have stood thus, staring at the picture of the uncomfortable Tony fighting his way through the figures of the dance, a heavy frown of concentration wrinkling his brow while his lovely partner laughed and flirted, had not a coolly elegant voice broken in on them. “Lavinia, my dear, and Lady Caroline. I had hardly dared hope for the pleasure of your company. I must say you are both looking charming.” And Sir Evelyn materialized beside them.

  Lavinia turned to him and held out her hand as though she were drowning. “Why, thank you, dear Sir Evelyn. You are too kind. One does one s poor best, you know. You are quite correct in thinking that we had not planned to attend, but Sally Jersey was so insistent that I show Caro all the important haunts of the ton. After all, what could I do? The poor girl has been buried in the country this age. Of course, I have not come to dance. I shall join the rest of the dowagers arranged along the wall.” Lavvy looked hopefully at the immaculately attired peer.

  “Not dance! What? And deprive us all of the sight of the beauteous Countess of Welham gracing the floor? Why, I have never heard such a dreadful thing and I take it upon myself to dispel such a ridiculous notion. You will excuse us?” He extended a graceful hand to the triumphant Lavinia and, smiling at the rest of them, led her toward the floor as the musicians struck up the first strains of the next dance.

  A few seconds later, a heavily perspiring Tony appeared, to slump gratefully against a pillar. “Whew! Glad that’s over. Where she got the idea that I’m a damned caper merchant, I’ll never know. Glad you’re not the sort of woman who wants a man to do the pretty with her all the time, Caro. You and Clary are the only restful females I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and you’re a sight for sore eyes I can tell you.” Tony smiled gratefully at Caro as he caught his breath. “What women see in all this, I should like to know. Why, Lavvy just ain’t happy unless she has some poor fellow dancing attendance on her and making pretty speeches all the time.”

  “Thank you. Tony,” Caro replied absently, her mind occupied with the disturbing discovery that there was some small part of her—an infinitesimal one to be sure but there, nevertheless—that envied her cousin as she whirled around the floor laughing and smiling, assured that she was drawing admiring glances from one and all. For a moment, Caro wondered wistfully what it would be like to be so supremely confident of one’s power to attract. For the most part, Caro never gave her appearance a second thought, but observing her exquisite cousin, the light gleaming on her golden curls, diamonds glittering on her flawless skin and her graceful figure shimmering in a satin dress covered with silver threaded net, Caro felt like a great overgrown schoolgirl, gawky and dowdy in her plain white muslin, rather like a carthorse next to a thoroughbred. But before she could become too overwhelmed by such dismal thoughts. Captain Allen broke into them.

  “You’re in the right of it, Tony, and that’s all very well if a woman wants some Bartholomew baby who don’t know anything beyond what his tailor tells him. Why, your sister Lavinia ain’t flesh and blood; she’s a doll. You won’t notice anyone but someone like Sir Evelyn wasting his time on her. She’s like some beautiful painting that one is only supposed to admire from afar, but she’s a cold fish, even if she is your sister. A man wants a bit of a real woman—someone who can enjoy life with him, someone who’s warm and ...” suddenly aware that he was coming dangerously close to being indelicate in the presence of a lady, the captain came to an awkward halt. “Begging your pardon, Lady Caroline, not the sort of thing to discuss in front of a la
dy. Ahem, would you care to stand up with me? It seems a dashed shame to be here next to a beautiful woman and not take advantage of the chance to ask her to dance.”

  Unsure of herself, and not liking to attract the least amount of attention, Caro would have demurred, but the captain seemed so genuinely unaffected and friendly that she wavered. She was still wavering when Lavinia, who had arrived just in time to hear the captain’s proposal responded in accents of horror, “But you must not! It’s the waltz-most improper. And besides, buried in the country as she has been, Caro hasn’t the least idea how to do it.”

  But once again, emerging from nowhere, Lady Jersey chimed in gaily, “But I am certain she must know how to waltz. Anyone who sits a horse as gracefully as Lady Caroline must be an excellent dancer. Captain Allen, I recommend Lady Caroline Waverly as a partner. Ah, excuse me, there is Mrs. Drummond Burrell waving at me—some crisis, no doubt. I must be off.” And smiling maliciously at the chagrined Lavinia, she flitted away as quickly as she had appeared.

  Caro and the captain proceeded to the dance floor in silence where Caro began doubtfully, “I don’t know. Lavvy is right. Though of course I understand it in principle, I have never actually done the waltz before.”

  “Never fear, it ain’t that difficult,” the captain reassured her. “Just follow me. Sally’s right. Any woman who can handle a horse like Xerxes can waltz.”

  Caro remained unconvinced, and her first few steps felt tense and awkward, but her partner, confident of her ability to pick it up, chatted gaily about the finer points of a hunter he had seen at Tattersall’s the day before and in no time Caro was able to relax and give herself up to the music. In fact, she quite liked the smoothness and the motion and was somewhat disappointed when it was over.

  Not so Lavinia, who had been forced to listen to her brother’s approval. “Knew Caro could do it. Got a lot of bottom, that girl, quick on her feet too. Can do anything she puts her mind to.” It was galling enough to hear this from the ordinarily unforthcoming Tony, but to do so in Sir Evelyn’s presence—Lavinia’s patience was sorely tried by the time the dancers returned.

  Nor did Sir Evelyn refrain from repeating this praise once Caro’s partner had restored her safely to their little group. Several of the captain’s cronies had appeared, ostensibly to talk to their friend, but their attention was all for his companion. “There, Lady Caroline, what did I tell you? I knew that it would not be long before your natural grace and your own particular brand of charm would be recognized,” Sir Evelyn remarked smugly, stealing a glance at Lavinia. “No need to look so blank, dear girl. You may lack the classic features of our acknowledged incomparables, but there is a certain special allure about you—call it magnetism—that makes the rest of them appear frivolous in comparison. And when the ton discovers that you possess wit as well as beauty, you shall make the rest of the accredited diamonds seem like the merest of schoolgirls. For who would wish for a Venus with all her petty vanity, when one could have a Diana instead,” he concluded smiling enigmatically.

  “Why, thank you. You are too kind.” Caro was somewhat taken aback. Unused to the ways of the ton she might be, but there was no mistaking the distinct undercurrent to the comments of this middle-aged exquisite. Try though she might, Caro could not quite fathom its meaning.

  Her cousin, however, was in no such confusion, and thoroughly annoyed, she resolved to put an end to such a miserable evening as quickly as possible. Sighing gently, she lifted one delicate white hand to her brow. “The heat, the crowd ...” She wrinkled her brow prettily. “You will think me a poor frail creature, I know, but I have lived such a quiet existence for the past year that now the least excitement brings on the headache. Caro, as you are also unused to all this, I know you will not object if we leave before the appointed time. You have been seen and that is enough.” She turned as Sir Evelyn placed a chair behind her and tenderly helped her into it. “Thank you.” She put her hand to her brow and sighed again as he sent Tony on to order their carriage.

  Chapter 25

  Silence reigned during the ride home, each of the carriage’s occupants preoccupied with her own thoughts, all of which were unsettling. For the first time in her life, Lavinia had felt her absolute assurance in the supremacy of her beauty and charm slip the tiniest bit. And for the first time in her life, Caro was confronted with the vision of herself as a woman whom others found attractive. Even more surprising was that Lavvy seemed to sense this. Though Caro herself was no dissembler, Lavvy was, and Caro knew that prior to Sir Evelyn’s remarks, nothing could have been farther from her cousin’s mind than a fit of the megrims.

  Caro would never have considered herself any sort of competition to the beautiful Countess of Welham, but she did derive a certain amount of satisfaction at having put Lavinia’s nose out of joint, even for a moment. It was true that to an incomparable such as Lavinia, Captain Allen and Sir Evelyn were not the sort of quarry worthy of serious attention, but their obvious admiration of another woman, and a woman whom Lavvy had written off as unworthy of consideration, was not the sort of situation to put the countess in a very favorable mood.

  In fact, Lavinia’s ill humor was such that other members of the household were inclined to remark on it. Accustomed as she was to her mistress’s demanding ways, Miss Crimmins had finally withdrawn in hurt silence when, during the nightly ritual of brushing the countess’s golden curls, she was sharply adjured not to pull so.

  “I am sorry, my lady. I am applying the same pressure as customary,” Crimmins had responded stiffly.

  “Well then, stop,” Lavvy snapped. “It’s giving me the most frightful headache.” Her minion’s offer of lavender water gently applied to the temples only exacerbated her the more until, suffering in earnest from a truly pounding headache, she ordered shrilly, “Just go! Leave me in peace and quiet.”

  Never one to gossip about her idol, Crimmins would have borne it all in uncomplaining silence had not the majestic Wigmore so much forgotten himself as to observe to her that Almack’s must have been very thin of company, the ladies having returned so early and the mistress being so out of sorts. “But I know you will have restored her spirits as you always do. Miss Crimmins,” he remarked, unbending enough to lavish a wintry smile of approval on that grateful lady.

  “Oh, I certainly hope, that is, I am persuaded her ladyship will feel much more the thing once she has had a good night’s rest,” the abigail fluttered, her face unbecomingly flushed at the signal honor of being noticed by Mr. Wigmore himself.

  But the night brought no rest nor any counsel, and the countess awoke in as wretched a condition as she had gone to bed. The uncertain state of her nerves was attested to the next evening when, entirely forgetting the interested presence of both Susan and Crimmins, she rounded on Caro as her unsuspecting cousin was descending on the way to the Countess of Nayland’s rout.

  Reputed to be the event of the Season, it was an entertainment not to be missed, even by those most secure in their favorable standing among the Upper Ten Thousand, and no one with the least pretensions to fashion would have missed it for the world. Accordingly Caro, much to Susan’s delight, had decided to honor the occasion by appearing in the ball gowns recently delivered from Henrietta Street.

  “Oh, my lady, you look just like a goddess,” Susan had breathed as the shimmering satin settled over Caro’s slender figure.

  Caro laughed. “Your loyalty makes you foolish, Susan, but I thank you kindly all the same.” And in truth, Caro could not refrain from admiring herself in the looking glass. The gown of blush-colored satin was cut low all around the bust while the short waist revealed beautifully sculpted shoulders and a long graceful neck. The lines were extremely simple with only the plainest of trimmings at the bottom, a flounce of blond lace whose weight made the material swing enticingly around her, while the scalloped hem occasionally allowed a tantalizing glimpse of delicate ankles and elegant feet encased in satin slippers. Susan had tamed the unruly dark curls into a smooth, shi
ning braid letting a few loose ringlets fall to caress the slender neck. A strand of pearls threaded through the thick braid emphasized its glossy blackness.

  None of the effect was lost on Lavinia who, having selected a toque, which she had considered to be in the first stare of fashion, suddenly felt matronly and uneasily re-called a phrase from that month’s Ackermann’s Repository in which the author declared toques to have declined in popularity. Nor was this improved by Tony, there under threat of instant death to escort his sister and cousin, who exclaimed ingenuously, “By Jove, Coz, you look as fine as fivepence!”

  Where had the chit come by that gown? Lavvy wondered furiously. No ordinary seamstress had fashioned that elegant concoction and Lavvy felt reasonably confident of her ability to recognize the creations of Bond Street’s most fashionable modistes. Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she surveyed her young relative. Then, recovering quickly, she adopted an expression of cousinly concern. “My dear, that neckline,” she began doubtfully.

  “What is wrong with my neckline?” Caro’s voice was low and calm with only a hint of defiance in it.

  “I realize that, country-bred as you are, you can have no notion of these things, but, well, it is a trifle low. Do allow me to lend you something to make it more discreet. I have some net that will answer to the purpose. Here, girl,” she beckoned to Susan. “Go fetch the blond tulle I just purchased. Crimmins will know where to find it.”

  “No, stay please, Susan. Cousin Lavinia is too solicitous. With her as my example my mind is perfectly at ease, now that I see her décolletage is a good deal lower than— mine. But I thank you for your concern, Lavvy,” Caro continued serenely as, allowing Tony to help her into her wrap, she proceeded toward the waiting carriage leaving a dumbfounded Lavinia in her wake and bringing a quickly concealed smile of triumph to Susan’s face.