down.”
“Oh, let us not discuss my tiresome child,” said Lady Carruthers gaily. “I confess I am fatigued. So many dances!”
Lord Denby restrained himself from pointing out that apart from one dance with him, she had not danced at all. He talked about various people they both knew, for most of society at least knew one another by sight and by gossip, while Lady Carruthers fretted as the minutes dragged by, wondering what on earth her daughter was about, to take so long to put on her carriage gown.
The door from Arabella’s bedroom opened and she entered followed by Lady Carruthers’s worried-looking maid. Lady Carruthers’s eyes looked daggers.
Arabella was wearing one of her own, that is, Lady Carruthers’s, own carriage gowns, and one of her mother’s best hats. And worse! For under that dashing little hat her hair was piled up on her small head in shining curls and waves. The earl smiled his appreciation. Arabella was transformed into a beautiful and modish young lady.
They made their way down the stairs to the hall. Miss Tonks was standing there, talking to one of the guests. She saw the party approaching and cried, “Arabella! How very fine you look.”
Lady Carruthers gave Miss Tonks a contemptuous look. “You will kindly be less familiar with my daughter. I do not like familiarity from hotel servants.”
“Good day, Miss Tonks,” said the earl easily. “Your hair looks splendid, very fetching.”
“Is Letitia not grand,” cried Arabella. “But then, Monsieur André is the very best.”
Nonplussed and feeling that life was treating her very unfairly, Lady Carruthers made her way to the door but found to her mortification that she had to wait there alone while the earl and her wretched daughter finished talking to that wretched hotel woman. She was bewildered. Arabella, she kept thinking. Is Arabella then so very beautiful? I never noticed.
When they were seated in the earl’s carriage, she kept darting little looks at her daughter from under the shadow of her bonnet. For the first time Lady Carruthers was bitterly jealous of her daughter. Her own face was a mask of paint; her daughter’s, free of paint, glowed with good health. Not one line marred that beautiful face opposite, and the hazel eyes were wide and clear. On the other hand, the earl had called to pay his addresses. Lady Carruthers preened. All her vanity, which had taken a sad blow at the ball, came flooding back. Once more she saw herself as irresistible and began to flirt with the earl so that he had little opportunity to speak to Arabella. Had Lady Carruthers allowed him plenty of time to get to know Arabella better, then the earl might have tired of the game. But the fact that his every move to engage Arabella in conversation was thwarted by her mother made him more intrigued by the girl.
“Your daughter is attracting all eyes,” said the earl as they drove in the Ring in Hyde Park.
But Lady Carruthers’s vanity was fully restored and she thought it was charming and kind of the earl to flatter her little daughter so as to please
her
. After all, Lady Carruthers knew that it was obviously herself that all the men in the Park were admiring.
Chapter Four
What woman, however
old, has not the bridal
favours and raiment
stowed away, and
packed in
lavender, in the inmost
cupboards of her
heart?
—W ILLIAM T HACKERAY
The earl found himself feeling increasingly frustrated. He had initially made up his mind that when Lady Carruthers started to take her daughter out and about, he would favour the girl with a few dances and then forget about her. But during the following two weeks, only Lady Carruthers herself was present at various social functions. At last, after flicking through his cards, he noticed there was to be a musicale on the following night, hosted by a Mrs. Sinclair. He approached that lady and said that he had learned Lady Carruthers had a very pretty daughter also staying at the Poor Relation and perhaps Mrs.
C. C. Hunter
Alan Lawrence Sitomer
Sarah Ahiers
L.D. Beyer
Hope Tarr
Madeline Evering
Lilith Saintcrow
Linda Mooney
Mieke Wik, Stephan Wik
Angela Verdenius