Spring Muslins Read online

  They made their way down the stairs to the hall, where Lady Quidenham gave a peremptory order for her carriage. Lucia made no attempt to break the silence. Aunt Evadne had had a shock, and would need a little time to recover. Only Morry, who knew nothing of the mysterious Mr T, waxed lyrical about the lecture as they left the building.

  ‘What a fascinating man, to have sailed the oceans for so many years. And his paintings of the flora and fauna, so detailed, so beautiful. Exquisite!’ She turned to Lady Quidenham. ‘Did you not think so, ma’am? What a pity we could not stay for the questions.’

  ‘Yes, wasn’t it,’ murmured Lucia. ‘I am sure the speaker was disappointed to see us leave, and not merely because we had to disrupt the whole row to get out.’

  She met her aunt’s withering glare with a bland smile and they continued to the carriage. She and Miss Morrison continued to discuss the lecture for the whole of the short carriage journey back to Portman Square while the dowager maintained a stony silence. Only when they had reached the marbled hall of Quidenham House did she speak.

  ‘Lucia, I would like to talk to you in the morning room. Now. Alone.’

  If Miss Morrison saw anything amiss in this abrupt remark, she did not show it.

  ‘Give me your bonnet and pelisse, Lucia,’ she said, smiling, ‘I will take them upstairs for Betty to put away.’

  She tripped merrily up the stairs and Lucia followed Lady Quidenham into the morning room, closing the door carefully behind her. When she turned back her aunt was standing before the fireplace, leaning on her stick and glaring angrily at her.

  ‘You knew,’ she barked, her voice shaking with rage. ‘You knew Linus Theale was the speaker today.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you knew he was the man mentioned in those letters.’

  ‘I guessed,’ Lucia confessed. ‘But I could not be sure.’

  ‘So you set up today’s little farce to prove it. How dare you!’

  ‘I beg your pardon, Aunt, but you would not tell me. I remember seeing him at the military review, ma’am, the way he stared after you.’ She gave a little smile. ‘I think he still has an affection for you.’

  ‘You know nothing about it!’

  She glared across the room, her mouth working as if to hold back some strong emotion. For one alarming moment Lucia thought her aunt might burst into tears. But she steadied herself. She walked slowly to a chair and sat down. Lucia hurried across, pulling up a footstool and sinking down at her aunt’s knee.

  ‘I discovered he is a widower, Aunt Evadne. You are a widow; what harm could there be in your renewing your friendship?’

  ‘You are being quite ridiculous, Lucia.’

  ‘But why, when you loved one another?’

  ‘That was forty years ago.’

  ‘Yes, and your father refused the banns, you told me that.’

  ‘It was not only my father. I did so, too. I told Linus I would not marry him.’

  Lucia stared at her. ‘You refused him?’

  For a moment her aunt did not answer. Her eyes were fixed on some point beyond Lucia, in another time, another place.

  ‘What else could I do? He was going away for years. Indeed, it was not at all certain he would return from such a voyage.’ A sad little smile played over the old lady’s lips. ‘He had told me when we first met that it was his greatest ambition, to sail with Cook, to hone his skills under the guidance of the great naturalists who would be working on board the Resolution.

  ‘I never doubted that he loved me. When my father refused his consent to our becoming engaged before he sailed, Linus declared he would remain in England. He had a little money, we might elope and he would find work to support us, but how could I do that to him? How could I ask him to give up all his hopes, his dreams?’

  She fell silent, and Lucia thought she had never seen such sadness in anyone’s eyes.

  ‘What did you do?’ she asked gently.

  A sigh. ‘I refused him. I told him I had my sights set on a bigger prize. Someone with a title and a fortune. We quarrelled and he went off to sail the world. By the time he returned, I was married to Quidenham.’

  ‘And you have not met since?’

  ‘Once. Soon after he had arrived back in England. There was a great deal of interest in the voyage. Captain Cook became a national hero and his fellow travellers were feted everywhere. Quidenham invited some of them to dine here, including Linus. He presented me with four paintings he had made of plants found in New Zealand.’

  ‘The watercolours I saw at the Dower House!’ exclaimed Lucy.

  ‘Yes.’ The dowager nodded. ‘He gave them to me in the nature of a revenge, I think. To show me that he had returned, a successful artist and naturalist. The gift was supposedly a wedding present, but his congratulations sounded hollow, I knew he despised me for what I had done. The Viscount, however, was quite delighted with the paintings and insisted they should be displayed at Quidenham Hall. When he died, I had them installed at the Dower House.’

  ‘You could not bring yourself to part with them,’ said Lucia, nodding. ‘Because you still care for Linus Theale. Then surely – ‘

  ‘No! Do you not understand? There is too much hurt, too much bitterness between us. How dare you take it upon yourself to meddle in something you know nothing about! What you did today, tricking me into going to Albemarle Street, the distress that has caused, to both Linus Theale and myself, raking up old memories that we had both worked so hard to bury – that is unforgiveable.’

  Lucy had been so sure she had been doing the right thing, but her confidence crumbled beneath her aunt’s tirade and she put her hands to her cheeks.

  ‘Oh Aunt,’ she exclaimed, stricken. ‘I beg your pardon, I never meant – ‘

  ‘No, I am sure you did not. But do you see now that your meddling has achieved nothing but misery?’ She glared at Lucia. ‘You are too like your father, always chasing some scheme that ultimately comes to nought. I will thank you not to interfere in my affairs in future.’ She rose in an angry rustle of silks and Lucia hastily jumped to her feet. ‘In view of your behaviour today I have decided that our arrangement will terminate at the end of the month. Until then we will go on as before. I have no intention of making our disagreement public and giving the ton more grist for the gossip-mill. In three weeks’ time I shall expect you to give me those letters, as we agreed, but if you refuse it makes no odds to me now.

  ‘I shall go to Brighton a month early, but no one will think that anything out of the ordinary. From the first of July you, madam, must fend for yourself. I wash my hands of you.’ She stalked to the door but as she opened it, she turned for one final remark. ‘Perhaps now you are regretting investing all your money in Miss Bower’s business.’

  The door closed with a snap. Lucia had never seen her aunt so angry, but in her heart she could not blame the dowager. She dropped her head into her hands, feeling slightly sick. She had thought, she had been so certain that a meeting between Aunt Evadne and her old flame would have a happy outcome, but she could not have been more wrong.

  With a sigh she walked to the window. She had made a mull of it, just as she had made a mull of rejecting Sir Darius. Not that the cases were the same, of course. Aunt Evadne had been deeply in love with her suitor whereas she –

  Lucia ‘s thoughts halted. Could she honestly say she felt nothing for Sir Darius? He had occupied almost all her waking thoughts since he had made that ill-fated proposal. And before that? She considered the matter. No. Before that he had been in the background, the thought of him a constant comfort, not as a lover, or potential husband, but as a friend. She missed the companionship that had sprung up between them, the feeling that she could say anything to him, share any problem. She could not deny she had come to like him. Very much.

  But liking was not love. And one couldn’t fall in love upon such a short acquaintance. And yet, just the memory of his kiss made her stomach swoop and her pulse race. Perhaps she had been in a fair way to f
alling in love with him when he proposed, but she had not known it.

  Lucia leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. What a pickle! Not that she need worry about Sir Darius. He would recover from any slight affection he might have for her, but her aunt – she was mortified now to think how much she had hurt Aunt Evadne.

  Angrily she wiped her eyes. It was merely tears of self-pity, and she had no time for that. She deserved every lash and sting of conscience for the arrogant, thoughtless way she had behaved.

  It was fortunate that Grace’s business was doing so well, or she would feel thoroughly disheartened.

  *

  Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Lady Quidenham sent word that she would be dining in her room and when Miss Morrison commented upon Lucia’s lack of appetite, she felt obliged to tell her something of the truth.

  ‘I fear my aunt is very displeased with me,’ she confessed. ‘For arranging the visit to the Royal Institution today. You see, I discovered that Mr Linus Theale is an old beau of my aunt’s. They fell out years ago – before she was married – and have not seen each other since. I thought, if I brought them back together…’ She sighed. ‘I thought they might at least resume their friendship. Unfortunately, it did not work. The look that passed between them as we left the Royal Institution was positively hostile.’

  ‘Oh Lucia.’ Miss Morrison’s eyes were full of gentle reproof. ‘Is that why she was so quiet when we left Albemarle Street? Poor Lady Quidenham, what a surprise to spring upon her. You really should not have done it.’

  ‘No.’ Lucia was full of contrition, thinking of her own reaction to a surprise proposal. ‘I should have known better. It was foolish in the extreme and I could not be sorrier.’

  ‘Ah well, we know my lady’s temper is a little hasty. Let us hope that by the morning she will have come around.’

  Lucia thought it unlikely, and when she went down to breakfast her fears were confirmed.

  ‘My lady is keeping to her room,’ Miss Morrison informed her, as she came in. ‘I saw Fixby as I was coming downstairs and she told me.’

  ‘Oh. Perhaps I should not go riding with the Garwoods, today,’ replied Lucia. ‘my aunt might need me.’

  ‘No, you should go. I think it is best if you play least in sight,’ replied Morry, twinkling. ‘I shall go up and sit with her later, and perhaps we will make a start on the second volume of the new novel I am reading to her. Pride and Prejudice. It really is quite entertaining and will cheer her up, I am sure.’

  ‘Thank you, Morry. You really are very good to my aunt.’

  ‘I like her,’ she said simply. ‘True, she can be a little sharp, but one learns not to mind that. Thankfully, with Grace doing so well, I am not required to be in Orchard Street so often, and have more time to spend with Lady Quidenham.’

  ‘Oh dear, are you worked to death by everything?’

  ‘Not at all,’ replied Morry, laughing. ‘I like to be busy. Besides, Grace is showing an aptitude for business and now needs very little help with the sewing or the accounts and I am glad to let her get on with it. So, you must go off and enjoy yourself today, my dear. All will be well, you’ll see.’

  Lucia continued with her breakfast. She had not yet told Morry that her aunt was turning them out at the end of the month. She must do so, of course, but not yet. And perhaps Morry was right; it was still possible that her aunt’s mercurial temper might swing once again.

  Lucia ran upstairs to scramble into her riding habit, but by the time she fixed the cherry-red hat in place she had decided there was something she must do before leaving the house. It could not wait.

  She made her way to Lady Quidenham’s bedchamber, where her knock was answered by my lady’s dresser.

  ‘Good morning Fixby. Is my aunt awake?’

  ‘She is.’ The dresser’s frosty glare conveyed, as clear as any words, no thanks to you!

  Lucia sailed past her and into the room, where she found her aunt propped up against a mountain of snowy white pillows. She held a cup of hot chocolate between her hands, the ringless fingers looking thin and claw like. Her eyes were as fierce as ever, but without her rouge and powder and with a white cap over her grey curls she looked every one of her fifty-nine years.

  ‘Well, what do you want?’

  ‘May we have moment alone, Aunt?’

  ‘No need for that. I have no secrets from Fixby.’

  Lucia did not argue. She approached the bed and held out a small bundle of papers.

  ‘Your letters to my grandmother, ma’am.’

  Her aunt stared at them, but kept her hands wrapped about her cup. After a moment Lucia laid the bundle carefully on the bedcovers.

  ‘If you think this will make me change my mind about what I said yesterday, you are mistaken,’ the dowager snapped.

  ‘I understand that, ma’am, I expected nothing else, but I wanted you to have these now. I am truly sorry for what happened yesterday.’

  ‘Aye, and so you should be.’ The old woman was still looking at the letters, but after a few moments she waved a hand, saying irritably, ‘Well, if that is all, you may go. We are engaged to dine with Lady Winterstoke this evening, I do not wish to see you again until then.’

  ‘Oh.’ Lucia blinked. ‘Are you well enough for that, ma’am? I am sure Miss Morrison would come with me if – ‘

  ‘Of course I am well enough, I am not an invalid! Besides, I will not have my name bandied about by the gossip mongers, scenting a scandal! Now get out, and leave me to enjoy my chocolate in peace.’

  Miss Garwood had written that they would call for Lucia at eleven, and as the clock in the hall chimed the hour, Lucia saw the riders turning into the square. She looked carefully as she stepped out of the house, but apart from the groom leading Juno, she could see only Mr and Miss Garwood and Verity Claversham in the party. There was no sign of Sir Darius.

  It took only a few minutes for Lucia to settle herself upon the grey mare and then the party set off for the park. The warm sunshine had tempted the crowds out of doors and they found the rides and carriage drives very busy. At one point they met with Lord Applecross, tooling his curricle around the park. He stopped, waving his hat towards them.

  ‘Well met!’ he cried gaily, his cheerful smile encompassing them all. ‘What, is Claversham not with you?’

  Lucy waited eagerly for the answer.

  ‘My brother is gone out of Town,’ Verity replied.

  ‘Has he now? That’s odd, he did not mention it when I saw him on Monday. In fact, he told me he was engaged to ride out with you this morning.’

  ‘Perhaps you had the wrong day,’ suggested Gerald Garwood.

  ‘No, no, remember it particularly. It was settling day at Tattersalls and he was telling me about the new pair he’d picked up at Newmarket. I asked if I might try ‘em, but told him today was the only morning I had free and he said…’ The young lord’s brow cleared and he gave a laugh. ‘Perhaps he was trying not to wound my feelings!’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like Claversham,’ returned Gerald Garwood. ‘He’d tell you to your face if he didn’t want you to drive his new team.’

  ‘Yes, he would,’ agreed his fond sister. ‘But it was a sudden decision, I think, to go down to Epsom to stay with friends. However, he promised Grandmama he would be back for her party this evening, and he is stopping off at Claversham this morning to collect Mama. Which reminds me, Tommy, you haven’t forgotten you are invited, have you?’

  ‘Oh lord, no. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Miss Claversham!’

  With a flourish of his whip Lord Applecross drove away, the riders moved on and Lucia was able to retire into her own thoughts. They were not happy. Sir Darius was clearly not allowing her rejection to affect him. In fact, she doubted that he had really cared for her at all!

  Their ride around the park completed, Gerald Garwood and his sister went home, leaving Verity and her groom to escort Lucia back to Portman Square, where Miss Claversham’s last words to
her friend were that she must rest before the evening.

  ‘And come prepared to dance,’ she ordered, laughing. ‘Grandmama’s parties always finish with us rolling up the carpets for an impromptu hop!’

  The short carriage ride to Lady Winterstoke’s elegant town house in Grafton Street was uncomfortable for Lucia, and not only because of the dowager’s continuing coldness towards her. She had wanted to wear her apricot gown with the demi-train this evening. That would give her the perfect excuse not to stand up with Sir Darius, should he ask her, but Verity’s parting shot meant that she could no longer claim she did not know there would be dancing.

  Not that Sir Darius was likely to invite her to stand up with him, but Lucia knew that she and her great-aunt were amongst the half-dozen or so guests Lady Winterstoke had invited to dine at Grafton Street and he would not be able to ignore her completely without causing some comment from his grandmother or his sister.

  They were shown into the library where Lady Winterstoke was receiving her dinner guests, since it adjoined the dining room.

  ‘Lucia, at last!’ Verity ran up and kissed her cheek, as Lady Winterstoke carried Lady Quidenham off to sit with the matrons. ‘I have been waiting for you to arrive. Come and meet Mama!’

  She linked arms with Lucia and led her across the room to where Lady Claversham was sitting in a wing chair with Sir Darius standing beside her. He was watching their approach, his countenance inscrutable. Lucia quashed the nervous flutter in her breast and fixed her attention upon the lady.

  There was an unmistakable resemblance between Lady Claversham and her children, although her beauty was now much faded. She wore a lavender gown which enhanced the pallor of her skin and Lucia thought there was a discontented droop to her mouth, but perhaps she was being unkind. Had not Verity told her that her mother suffered from ill health?

  Lucia was presented to Lady Claversham and she made her curtsy.