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The Alter Ego_A Regency Romps Story Page 5
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“She would do no such thing,” declared Lily, but she walked at a clipping pace back to the hotel nonetheless.
*
Arthur couldn’t shake the feeling that Jane was pulling some kind of prank, but he’d be dashed if he could work out what it was.
“You do know that I quite like the Clydes,” he said as they sauntered, arm in arm, toward Mr Drake’s bookshop and circulating library.
“Yes, and I quite agree with you about them. Delightful people, although I was shaken at how young Mrs Clyde is!”
“I was rather hoping I may get to know them better,” he said, as carefully as he could manage. “I mean, it’s nice to have people want to befriend me without worrying that they are trying to trick me into proposing!”
Jane smirked. “Like Eugenia Pulford did? That engagement was quite your own fault, you know.”
“Least said soonest mended,” he said, tugging at his cravat as a picture of Lady Eugenia formed, unbidden in his mind’s eye. “But ever since I won all that dashed money.”
“How terrible for you,” said Jane, her eyes mocking even though her face remained perfectly serious. “Perhaps you should give me your entire fortune instead.”
Arthur glanced over at his longtime acquaintance. She wasn’t pretty, although her features were fine and her taste in clothes impeccable.
“Tired of living with the dragon, are you?” he said, considering her situation for the first time. “Can’t be easy on you.”
Jane looked taken aback for a moment, and hastily tore her eyes from his. “Not at all, Aunt Seraphinia has been extremely kind to me, and I would much rather live here than with any of my other relatives.”
Arthur grimaced. That was the kicker, he supposed; poor women of the upper class had little-to-no options when it came to bringing in money of their own, and if they were not blessed with either fortune or looks, too often they ended up living as unpaid servants in the homes of wealthier relatives. Often unwanted, often unloved, they were treated with disdain by those who should know better.
“I could help you,” he said simply. “I’ve a house here in Bath that I won, not to mention the half dozen other properties I apparently now own thanks to my own idiocy. It’s not like I deserve them, Jane. Just say the word, and one of them will be yours, along with some pin money and running costs, of course.”
“Good grief, are you trying to give me the slip on the shoulder?” she replied.
Arthur tripped over his own feet, and only the convenient placement of a lamp post prevented him from sprawling into the road.
“Good God, Jane! What kind of devil do you think I am? And come to think about it, where in the name of the Lord did you learn about such things?”
Jane, however, could not answer, for she was practically doubled over with laughter. “Oh Lord,… if you… could see… your face!” she gasped, before dissolving into another fit of giggles.
Arthur straightened up but narrowed his gaze as he studied her. “Are you bamming me?”
“Of course, I am, you goose!” she laughed, using a gloved hand to delicately wipe away a tear from beneath her eye. “Forgive me, Arthur, but you must know you can’t go around offering women to set them up in their own households when they aren’t related to you!”
“We’re sort of related,” he muttered, hoping she didn’t see the flush of embarrassment burning his cheeks.
She took pity on him and smiled. “You are a dear, Arthur, and I know you mean it for the best. However it is exactly what everyone would say had happened, and I rather like having friends. Besides, I genuinely do love Aunt Seraphinia to death.”
“Yes, but I know as well as most that having your own place is a blessing, even when you are lucky enough to have family that love you,” said Arthur, thinking about Kate and his mother. “This dashed world we live in, Jane. I have more money than I want, and I cannot give it to people I care for, in case society thinks the less of them. It’s crackers.”
Jane patted his hand, her smile sad. “Even if I were as rich as you, my dear, society would not be happy if I remained unmarried, or dared to live in an establishment of my own. It makes me think about the Clydes, and how difficult Mrs Clyde must be finding things.”
Arthur lifted a brow. “I don’t follow, my dear.”
“Darling, just based on those gorgeous pelisses I suspect that Mrs Clyde’s late husband left her and his daughter very wealthy women. While it may benefit the girl to be both pretty and rich when it comes to husband hunting, I suspect Mrs Clyde may have found other ladies to be less accommodating to her.”
“Why on earth would that be?”
Jane cast him a look that suggested she thought him a slow top. “Arthur, she’s a widow, evidently wealthy, and quite beautiful to boot. They will be afraid that she will attract the attention of their husbands.”
It took Arthur a moment to bring the flare of anger in his chest back under control. He barely knew Mrs Clyde, but the thought that she could be subjected to such intolerable discomfort made him want to slap a glove across the face of any man crude enough to offer her such insult.
“I had not thought of it like that,” he said through gritted teeth.
Jane patted his hand. “Of course you wouldn’t, for you’re not that type of gentleman. I think they have made the right decision coming to Bath before going to London for the Season if only to build some allies before facing the Ton.”
“I wouldn’t call Old Bat Harden an ally,” said Arthur, thinking of the woman almost universally despised by all but the most dedicated gossips and tabby cats. Lady Seraphinia’s daughter-in-law was quite possibly less popular in Bath than she was in London, thanks to the ongoing war between the two strong-willed women. “Just because her own father was from trade doesn’t mean she’ll accept such a connection in the Clydes!”
Jane, however, grinned. “I wouldn’t worry about that, you know. I suspect that Mrs Clyde is about to encounter a much stronger ally than she knows.”
Arthur narrowed his gaze. “You sound as cryptic as Aunt Seraphinia, you know, and I don’t like it! What are you up to?”
“I am not up to anything at all,” she replied with an air of innocence so pure it had to be a sham. “Now please turn your attention to more important matters! Aunt Seraphinia has disliked the last three books I brought home from the library, for she swears nothing is as good as The London House.”
The name of the book tugged at Arthur’s memory, and he had a vague notion it had something to do with Lady Cordelia’s moping about the Darlington house party. The connection would not come, so he dismissed it from his thoughts, content that, if it proved to be a matter of importance, it would come to him.
“Lead the charge then, my dear,” he said, holding open the door to Mr Drake’s circulating library and bookshop as Jane strolled in, “but be aware I shall agree with everything that you say, for I know nothing about Aunt Seraphinia’s interests!”
Jane let out a crack of laughter loud enough to make the shop clerk glance up from her desk. “Truer words were never spoken, Arthur, but you are about to learn very fast exactly what Aunt Seraphinia loves to do best!”
Arthur felt his smile waver, but Jane was already lost among the bookshelves, so there was no opportunity to question her further.
Chapter Four
Anna and Lily presented themselves at precisely two o’clock in the afternoon, as instructed in their letter from Lady Harden, and waited nervously in the hallway as their card was taken up to their elderly hostess.
Anna stole a glance at Lily and reassured herself that her stepdaughter’s appearance could not disappoint. The white Indian muslin gown was plain, save for delicate lace trim at the collar and hem. The day was warm enough for them to reject their pelisses, so Lily had opted to wear a pale blue Venetian spencer with matching beaver hat. Anna took comfort in the fact that Governess – thankfully sleeping in the white handbasket Lily insisted was all the crack – had been cleaned and brushed until
her coat gleamed, and a new, unchewed, blue satin ruff graced her round neck.
“Do you think she is very terrifying?” asked Lily, before she resumed chewing her bottom lip.
“I’ve heard she’s called the Dragon of Bath, but I’m sure it’s an exaggeration,” Anna replied with a determined smile.
“But what if she doesn’t like us?” asked Lily, dropping her voice to a whisper as though she were afraid the servants might overhear.
“Don’t worry, if she takes you in dislike we can flee to York in the middle of the night, change our names and rebuild a whole new life,” said Anna, keeping her expression solemn.
“I’m holding you to that,” whispered Lily, before turning a beaming smile upon the butler.
“Her ladyship would be happy for you to join her,” said the butler in a tone that suggested he thought it beneath the Dowager’s dignity to receive them.
Anna, used to snubs, gritted her teeth behind her polite smile and followed him up the flight of stairs leading to the front parlour.
“Mrs Clyde and Miss Clyde, my lady,” said the butler, announcing them to the room with the same pomp as would be expected at a society ball. Lily blanched at the formality, but Anna found herself grinning. The Dowager, it seemed, like to push her guests onto the back foot to maintain her role as Matriarch of the city. Well, she was prepared to be a tigress in defence of her stepdaughter and steeled herself to win the old woman over, no matter what.
“Ladies, please come in,” said a regal voice. “Please do excuse the gathering of ne’er-do-wells, but I do not stand upon ceremony in my own home.”
Anna practically had to drag Lily into the room, for the poor girl had frozen at the scene before her. Far from being the only guests as was usual for a call of ceremony, it appeared they had stumbled onto an informal party. A young couple shared a sofa and had broken every rule of polite society by bringing their tiny but adorable baby along with them. To their left stood an elderly gentleman of military bearing who was engrossed in conversation with none other than Miss Lindon. Closest to them, an older gentleman of exquisite taste lounged in his chair, while a frail-looking lady in a beautiful cambric gown sat beside him.
Anna took in this assortment of people with a quick glance, but it was truly impossible to look at anyone but the Dowager Viscountess herself, who was resplendent on a high backed chair that more closely resembled a throne than something made for the comfort of its occupant.
While only a small woman, the elderly lady had a stout look about her that implied she would easily live another hundred years. She dressed in an outdated style, with a printed grey cotton Caraco over a black satin skirt. Her hair was a mass of grey curls, topped with a simple lace handkerchief cap that had been trimmed with grey ribbons. It was the type of outfit that Anna’s mother had worn for her portrait when she first arrived in England with Anna’s father twenty-five years earlier, and yet instead of looking hopelessly unrefined or dowdy, Lady Seraphinia looked refined, elegant, and above such petty things as the vagaries of fashion.
Anna, a guiding hand on Lily’s back, walked toward this imposing woman and then dropped into a curtsey. She was gratified to see that her stepdaughter, despite carrying a basket full of sleeping pug, managed to do the same.
“Lady Harden, thank you for inviting us to meet you in person. My sister-in-law, Lady Clyde, assured me that you are the very best of women.”
“Then Eleanor lied,” said the Dowager, the corner of her mouth kicking up in a smile as Lily gasped. “And please, call me Lady Seraphinia. Lady Harden is my harpy of a daughter-in-law, and I prefer not to have any confusion over our identities.”
“Grandmama!” gasped the young woman holding the baby.
Lady Seraphinia rolled her eyes. “You know very well that I regard your mother as a nincompoop, Charlotte, and your husband feels the same way, don’t you, Captain Rowlands?”
The man addressed flashed a handsome grin. “My dislike of my mother-in-law is rather well known, Lady Seraphinia, as is her intense dislike of me!”
“She does not dislike you, Charles,” said his wife as she pulled the baby tight to her body. “She simply wishes that you weren’t a soldier, and were richer, and had a title!”
Lady Seraphinia gave a bark of laughter. Anna and Lily shared a look, wondering what on earth they had walked in to.
“This is my granddaughter, Charlotte Rowlands. She’s got more hair than wit, but her husband here, Captain Rowlands, has a few brain cells to rub together.”
“Your glowing description warms my heart, Lady Seraphinia,” said the Captain, a smile dancing about his lips.
“But Richard, she did not say that you glow, only that you are not as stupid as me,” said his wife with such an earnest expression Anna was not sure if she was a masterful actress, or entirely serious. Mrs Rowlands bounced a happy-looking baby on her knee, but her eyes were for her husband, who seemed to be struggling to control his laughter.
Lady Seraphinia gave a long-suffering sigh. “As I said, more hair than wit. Still, she’s the best thing that my good-for-nothing daughter-in-law has ever produced, which is not much of a compliment when I think about it!”
“I am not acquainted with Lady Harden,” said Anna as carefully as she could manage. The Captain turned his smile in her direction.
“Then count yourself lucky! The Old Bat is almost universally despised, but her nose for gossip makes her more welcome among the Ton than seems reasonable.”
Miss Lindon, turning away from her companion at the fireplace, stepped forward before Anna was forced to come up with a polite response.
“Oh, hush, all of you! Can’t you see that you are embarrassing our guests? Mrs Clyde, it is so good to see you again – do you forgive me for not being entirely honest with you? I was far too amused at the prospect of you meeting Aunt Seraphinia, you see, that I simply could not tell you the truth about my relationship with her!”
Anna felt herself relaxing a touch at the sight of her new acquaintance.
“Not at all, Miss Lindon. I quite understand the urge to kick up a lark now and then!”
“Is your cousin here?” asked Lily with an eager smile. “Mr Arthur, I mean?”
Anna winced at her stepdaughter’s artlessness, but Miss Lindon simply smiled. “I have no idea if he intends to visit Aunt Seraphinia today, for he can be unpredictable.”
“He’s a popinjay,” huffed Lady Seraphinia. “No better than a Bartholomew baby!”
Anna frowned at this descriptor, for although Mr Arthur was undoubtedly a handsome gentleman (although it was still such a pity about his hair), no one could accuse him of aping the fashions of the Dandy set. Quite the opposite, in fact, for she doubted he had a single fashionable bone in his body.
“Do you know Lord and Lady Philip Drake?” said the dowager, indicating the couple to her side. “They are both lovely and well-bred, which would make them utterly unbearable if they were not also intelligent and amusing.”
“How do you do?” said Lord Philip with a lazy grin. “I’m afraid we are fixtures in town, my dear, so you will get to know us during your stay here.”
He was perhaps a decade older than her father but dressed with such exquisite taste that Anna had no doubt that the younger men of the town willingly copied his style.
She smiled at him and dipped into another curtsey. “I very much look forward to it.”
“Do you like books, Mrs Clyde?” said Lady Philip. A similar age to her husband, she looked tired and fragile, but with intelligent eyes that showed her keen to make a new acquaintance.
“We do very much,” said Anna. “Lily especially is a fan of novels.”
“I adored Mrs Radcliffe’s books, and used to read them to my father when he was ill,” said Lily. “He loved The Italian, but personally I found The Mysteries of Udolpho to be very enjoyable, even if it was unrealistic. I was so terrified when I was reading the part with the veil, I could not decide whether I wanted to know the truth, or not!”
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“You like gothic novels, then?” said Lady Phillip, her smile encouraging.
Lily gave an enthusiastic nod. “Oh, yes! Well – I love all novels, actually!”
“Then we must introduce you to our son when he returns from his honeymoon,” said Lady Phillip with apparent satisfaction. “Forgive the pride of a mother, but he owns the best bookshop, library and publishing house in Bath. His new wife is a novelist, you know!”
“How wonderful,” said Lily with genuine awe.
Lord Phillip laughed. “Good grief, my dear, must you work the triumphs of our children into every conversation?”
“Evidently not, for I have not yet mentioned our daughter’s marriage to a naval captain, or that our eldest son is a diplomat. And single.”
Anna decided that she liked this couple very much.
“Come and take a seat beside Aunt Seraphinia, ladies,” said Miss Lindon, and guided them closer to the Dowager. The older man who had been talking to Miss Lindon procured two chairs from the far side of the room and set them down.
“There you go, girls. Don’t mind me – I’m not important enough to warrant an introduction!”
Lady Seraphina rolled her eye. “Don’t be so doltish, Mortimer. You are not of the least interest to our guests.”
“This is General Mortimer,” said Miss Lindon, “he is a great favourite of my Aunt and always welcome in this home.”
“He’s an interloper, and I wish he would go away,” said Aunt Seraphinia, although she did smile as she said so.
Unfortunately, Governess, who was still curled up in the basket beneath the blanket, was unaware that the Dowager’s sharp tone was at odds with her affectionate gaze. The pug leapt out of her carrier with a yappy battle cry worthy of Boudica and bounded toward the unsuspecting General.
“Why, what a cute little – good God!” he said, his eyes going wide as governess squatted above his foot and proceeded to relieve herself all over his shining top boot. Chaos ensued as the General stepped backwards, only to crash into the fire guard and cause it to topple against a small side table, upon which was set a glass of ratafia and some cakes. The dishes crashed to the floor, causing Mrs Rowlands to yelp in shock and pull her baby tight against her. The child, shocked by the sudden movement, burst into tears.