A Sisterly Regard (30 page)

"Sarah, there are depths to you that I never suspected," Phaedra
told her. "I am honored to have you for a friend. But friends are not so
formal with one another. My name is Phaedra."

"And mine is Mary," the tiny redhead added.

"Oh, I could not..." Sarah said, awed at such familiarity.

"Of course you could," Lady Mary assured her with a kind
smile. "I cannot allow such formality from my friends. It is most
uncomfortable."

The three girls chatted quite happily for quite some time. Sarah,
ignoring her mother's frequent beckonings, was found to be quite a
delightful person, well read and interesting. When her mother finally
insisted that it was time for them to depart, she did so reluctantly, but
with an invitation to call upon Lady Mary after her return from Verbain.
She said, quite decisively, "I appreciate the invitation, Mary, but I do not
think I will accept. I would not expose your grandmother to Mama. We
will see each other at parties, where Mama will not be able to hang upon
the Duchess' skirts. Goodbye, Phaedra. Please, do not let the gossip
depress you. Yes, Mama, I am coming."

"Well!" exclaimed Lady Mary as the girl and her mother left the
room. "I never thought that she would speak up like that."

"Nor did I. What a nice girl. I quite like her. But what a terrible
mother," Phaedra said.

"Is she not?" Mary giggled. "I do hope that Sarah will not receive
too harsh a scold. Now, Phaedra, what is this I hear about your refusing
Reggie's offer?"

"Oh, dear. He should not have told you. And I did not exactly
refuse him."

"Reggie and I tell each other practically everything. I knew a
fortnight ago that he intended to offer for you. Come, Phaedra, do you
hold him in such distaste?"

"No, I do not. I am just not sure we would suit. Oh, Mary, I am
in such a quandary. I do like him, but I cannot feel I know him. Have
you--" He closed her mouth, not wanting to reveal her uncertainties. "You and
he have been friends for many years. Can you tell me of his childhood? His
interests?"

Lady Mary shook her head. "Reggie is a very private person. I
must let him tell you of himself."

"But Mary, how can I make such a momentous decision when I
have no knowledge of the man. I greatly fear his values are widely
divergent from mine."

"Are they? I think you would be surprised. Perhaps you will
learn better while you are at Verbain. He is coming, you know, as is Mr.
Martin."

"Yes, I did know. But I am not sure..."

"Well, I am sure. We all will have a perfectly marvelous time.
Oh, dear, it looks as if Grandmama is ready to leave. Please excuse me,
Phaedra. Will I see you this evening at the Dillingsworth musicale?"

"We will be there. Mama says that we will refuse practically no
invitations until we leave for Verbain." Surely not admitting she was
attending because Mr. Farwell would be there was only a small fib.

Deserted by her friends, Phaedra conversed with some of the
other young ladies at the tea party. Most were kind to her, but a few
ventured unpleasant remarks about Chloe's sudden marriage. Phaedra was
able to return unexceptionable replies to most of these, but her patience
was strained almost to the breaking point. When Miss Evelyn Stockton
asked her if she was not ashamed of her sister's quite improper behavior,
she lost all control of her temper and her tongue.

"My sister has done nothing for which any of her family is
ashamed, Miss Stockton. It is only the evil gossips, of which Society has far
too many, that have besmirched her good name. If the so-called ladies of
the
ton
would spend less time watching the behavior of innocent
girls and more in mending their own questionable behavior, the world
would be a much better place. What have you done recently to improve
the world in which you live, Miss Stockton? Or is all your time spent in
shopping, partying, and gossiping?"

Miss Stockton drew back in alarm from Phaedra's flashing eyes
and caustic voice. "I can see that you are no better mannered than your
sister, Miss Hazelbourne. How rude you are!"

Ignoring the hand Cousin Louisa had laid on her arm, Phaedra
continued, "It is you who are rude. Spreading rumors about my sister,
whom you hardly know, and making remarks calculated to discomfort me.
Your manners are in need of mending, not mine! Good day, Miss
Stockton. I hope I will not meet you again." She turned on her heel and
stalked away, Cousin Louisa in her wake, to where her mother sat against
the opposite wall, speaking with Lady Jersey.

"Mama, forgive me, but I wish to return home. There are
persons here with whom I do not care to associate further. Lady Jersey, I
do not include you, unless you choose to be among those who would
insult my sister." She ignored the shocked expression on her mother's face
and walked from the room.

Lady Gifford half rose from her chair, but sat again when Cousin
Louisa told her, "Stay here, Isabella, and enjoy yourself. I will see her
home."

Lady Jersey let out a peal of laughter. "Lud, Isabella, I never
thought she had a temper. That one always impressed me as being too
quiet, too serious. Good girl, standing up for her sister like that. I saw her
talking to that mealy-mouthed Stockton girl. She probably gave the chit a
good tongue-lashing. Here, now, Isabella, cheer up. Your daughter's done
nothing to harm herself. Those who matter will admire her for her defense
of her sister, you know, just as I admire you for holding your head up and
coming here today. Oh, yes, I've heard what Lady Everingham has said,
and I'll wager there is some basis in it, but no daughter of yours would
ever do anything more than mildly improper, and you've got her married
off now, so you can stop worrying about her. Now all you have to concern
yourself with is whether the first little one comes along too soon. No, now
don't you frown at me. I did not say that Chloe was ruined when she
married Wilderlake, but you must admit that it would be better for all
concerned if they waited a few months before she started breeding. But
there, no expecting any man to hold himself back, just to still the gossip,
so all we can do is hope. Besides, by next Season, this will all be forgotten
anyway. I still call myself your friend, Isabella, and you just remind
yourself of that whenever the gossip gets too thick. I am not without
influence, you know. I'll do what I can to still the talk about your other
girl. Oh, dear, Maria is beckoning to me. I must go see what she wants.
Now, Isabella, you just worry about finding a husband suitable for
Phaedra. She will need someone quite out of the ordinary. Yes, Maria, I
am coming. So good chatting with you, Isabella." She left a breathless but
relieved Lady Gifford behind her.

Phaedra left the tea party and went home, fully expecting to
receive a thorough scold from her mama later. She was mildly surprised
when Cousin Louisa said nothing about her outburst, but only related
on dits
she had heard that afternoon.

When Mama came home later, she merely cautioned Phaedra to
choose her words carefully, "For it would not do for you to say anything
really insulting to anyone. I do not expect you to refrain from defending
your sister, as long as you do so in a ladylike manner, you know."

Phaedra was quite relieved to know that her mother was not
unduly upset by her loss of temper. She vowed to keep a better rein on it
in the future.

The rest of the week passed all too slowly. Everywhere they
went, Phaedra was forced to bite back angry words more than once. No
one ever said anything overtly derogatory about Chloe to her face,
however, so she managed to hold her temper.

Lady Everingham glared at each of their two encounters. She
had not discontinued her criticisms of the Hazelbournes. Phaedra was
therefore pleasantly surprised to find that few members of Society paid
heed to Lady Everingham's words. In fact, most seemed arrayed on the
side of the Hazelbournes.

The most distressing part of the next few days was being forced
to be polite to Mr. Dervigne. That gentleman sought her out at every
opportunity. He continued to voice flattering phrases, and frequently
invited her to drive with him.

She never quite gave him the set down that she wished to,
however, because Lady Mary had warned her that he was capable of
exacting revenge when snubbed as he deserved. "In Grandmama's words,
he can damn with faint praise. Without saying anything precisely true, he
is adept at spreading the worst sort of gossip and innuendo." After that
Phaedra was grateful for Mr. Farwell's almost constant presence. When he
was with her, Mr. Dervigne kept his distance.

Mr. Farwell, in fact, was proving to be quite a useful person to
have about. He knew, and was known by, nearly everyone in Society, it
seemed. At Lady Jersey's ball, he had introduced her to a number of young
gentlemen, all of whom had asked her to dance, so that she had not sat out
even once. He was ever at her side when neither was engaged to dance
with someone else. His presence ensured that she was rarely exposed to
unkind remarks or cuts direct.

He took her driving in the park nearly every afternoon. On
Sunday he accompanied the family to church. The following Tuesday, her
free day, he invited her to visit Astley's Amphitheatre. The proposed
outing held far more charm than Mrs. Stewart's weekly literary salon,
although she had to admit that if this week had been the meeting of the
Association for the Preservation of British Compositae, she might have
wavered.

He kept both her and Cousin Louisa in stitches that afternoon,
making often quite acerbic comparisons between the antics of the clowns
and those of certain members of the
ton
. His foppish dress and
behavior still bothered her, but once in a while, she caught a quick, elusive
glimpse of another, more serious man beneath the outward dandy.
Intrigued, she decided she was quite content to have him constantly in
attendance.

The night before the house party was to depart for Verbain, she
and her mama again accompanied Lady Mary and the Duchess to the
weekly ball at Almack's. For the first time, Phaedra found herself looking
forward to it. She wore a new gown of silk, a deep, rich bronze-green in
shade, her mother having decided that the restriction to pastel muslins
could be relaxed.

Phaedra had again lost the battle to have the neckline modestly
high, and the curve of her breasts showed above the unadorned silk. The
skirt, with its demi-train, was fuller than she was used to. When she
twirled, it billowed out to show a paler olive-green slip, embroidered
with emerald green leaves for about six inches above the hem. Her
grandmother's pearls encircled her throat, and dainty pearl eardrops, leant
by her mama, matched them.

Mr. Farwell had again sent her ivory roses. She broke one from
her posy to tuck into her curls among the bronze-green ribbons that held
them high on her head. Gazing at herself in the pier glass in her mama's
dressing room, she decided she looked quite well indeed.

Mr. Farwell was waiting in the foyer with her father as she and
her mother came down the stairs. She stopped halfway down, frozen in
surprise. Gone was the fop in primrose inexpressibles and colorful, almost
garish, waistcoat. An elegant gentleman in black evening clothes was in his
place. She could not take her eyes from him as she descended. His snowy
cravat was tied in a tasteful and restrained knot, his shirt points rose to a
modest height, his clocked hose showed strong, shapely calves. She caught
her breath and looked quickly away when she realized she was staring at
his thighs, clearly defined by his clinging satin breeches. Why had she
never before noticed how golden his hair was, how gray his eyes? How
strange she had never she really seen the determination bespoken by his
square, firm jaw.

She managed to greet him politely, but found that she could not
talk so easily to this elegantly dressed stranger as she had to the fop. She
allowed him to place her cloak over her shoulders, shivering as his
fingertips lingered a moment on her bare shoulder.

When she took his arm to enter the ballroom at Almack's,
Phaedra finally found her voice. "How elegant you look tonight, Mr.
Farwell and how restrained your garments. Are you sure you are not
ill?"

"My dear, I am dressed this way in an attempt to win your favor.
You have so many times deplored my foppish styles that I was forced to
purchase these to please you."

"You did not! Oh, you should not have. Not for me."

"Only for you, my love," he said softly. "Now, may I have your
dance card before all your other admirers steal away my waltzes. There, I
have put my name down for all of them."

"But you cannot! There are three; I can only dance with you
twice."

"Then we will sit out the third. But I do not want you to waltz
with anyone else." His eyes held hers, compellingly, until she
agreed.

Phaedra's card was soon filled. She danced that night as she
never had before. Her sense that she was in her best looks gave her
confidence. She never felt at a loss for words, never felt clumsy or
awkward.

The second time she waltzed with Mr. Farwell, he pulled her
closer than propriety allowed and whispered, close to her ear, "You are
the loveliest woman here. Your eyes sparkle and your smile invites
everyone to share your joy."

Unable to respond, she could only look up at him. His smile was
tender, his eyes warm.

Mr. Dervigne attempted to engage her for a dance shortly after
supper, but she was relieved to be able to refuse him. As she did so, Mr.
Farwell materialized at her side.

"Evening, Dervigne," he said, shortly.

"Your servant, Farwell. Miss Phaedra, surely there is someone
who will yield me just one dance. I cannot believe that you truly wish to
dance with all these callow youths."