The Alter Ego_A Regency Romps Story Page 6

  “GOVERNESS STOP THAT AT ONCE!” screeched Lily, diving forward to grab the pug up into her arms. Unfortunately, her dog thought this was the start of a great new game and – after a brief pause to grab a mouthful of the fallen cake, dashed off across the room, only to leap up into the lap of the unsuspecting Lady Phillip. This would not have been so bad, thought Anna, had Governess not just bounded through the puddle of ratafia, and thus left pink paw marks all over that good woman’s cream cambric dress before Lily could scoop the unrepentant dog up into her arms.

  “General Mortimer, I am so sorry about this,” began Anna, not sure if she wanted to scream or faint as she saw any chance of social acceptance go up in smoke. “Lady Phillip, please forgive us!”

  “You brought a pug to our meeting?” demanded Lady Seraphinia. “No, I do not wish for you to answer for your stepdaughter, Mrs Clyde, nor for you to make some excuse, Jane! The girl has a tongue in her head. Well, Miss Clyde? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Everyone save for the baby fell silent.

  Lily went rigid with fright, but before Anna could rush to her defence, Society and the Dowager be damned, the girl took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

  “Governess was only trying to assist you, my Lady,” said Lily, keeping her chin raised.

  Whatever Lady Seraphinia had expected Lily to say, it obviously wasn’t this. Her mouth formed a little

  ‘o’ of surprise and her eyes flicked from Lily’s face to the dog in her arms.

  “Governess?”

  Anna couldn’t help smile, although she forced it down as quickly as possible.

  “Yes, my father named her, for even as a puppy she was intelligent enough to learn the trick of relieving herself on the shoes of any gentleman I did not wish to court me, so Father said she was as effective as any wicked governess for keeping unsuitable gentlemen away from me.” Lily frowned. “Unfortunately, she has a habit of doing it on any gentleman now, if she thinks she will get a treat for it.”

  “You… you taught your pug to relieve herself on gentlemen’s boots?” said Lady Seraphinia, looking somewhat dazed.

  Anna did not miss the fact that both Lord Phillip and Captain Rowlands tucked their feet as far away from Governess as they could manage.

  Lily stole a glance at Anna, who could only nod her encouragement. There was no going back now, and if this incident ended up resulting in their dismissal from polite society, well then at least they would walk out of here with dignity.

  With a deep breath, Lily turned her attention back to the Dowager. “I did. My cousin tried to take advantage of my father’s condition to secure my hand in marriage. After Governess ruined his third set of boots, he stopped calling so regularly.”

  The baby had calmed, so silence reigned in the drawing room. And then Lady Seraphinia began to laugh.

  “Do you mean to tell me, Miss Clyde, that your delightful little pug just tried to save me from what she believed to be the unwanted advances of General Mortimer?”

  Lily and Anna shared a confused glance as various members of the party began to chuckle.

  “I suppose she did?” said Lily, her words coming out as a question as she turned a pair of pleading eyes to Miss Lindon.

  This time, Lady Seraphinia let her laughter flow freely until she was wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye. “Good Lord, that must be the greatest dog ever to grace polite society! I am so glad you brought her to meet me, dear girl. My own pug died only last year, and I am loathed to replace her, for who will take care of her when I’m gone? Bring her to me, please.”

  Miss Lindon moved over to Lily, putting an encouraging hand onto the girl’s back. “My Aunt Seraphinia simply adores pugs, you know.”

  “Oh, so do I!” said Lily faintly. She passed her pug over to Lady Seraphinia, and Anna was relieved to see that Governess snuggled into the older woman’s arms as though she had known the dowager since she was a pup.

  “How adorable,” said Lady Seraphinia, “but it is not good Ton to bring animals with you on social calls, Miss Clyde, even if my incorrigible grandniece here somehow managed to convince you otherwise. Jane, send for the butler and get this mess cleaned up, and provide some refreshments for our new guests.”

  “Yes, Aunt Seraphinia,” replied Jane with far more cheer than Anna could have managed in the same situation.

  “I truly am sorry, General Mortimer,” said Lily as she finally took a seat – the one next to Mrs Rowlands rather than the Dowager, Anna noted. She took the remaining chair quietly.

  “Do not give it another thought, my child,” said the old man, beaming down at her. “I believe you are the niece that Sir Desmond has often talked about? Well, he hasn’t done you any justice, my girl, nor your stepmother! I find myself wishing I was twenty years younger so I could chase after you both, and truly earn the wrath of your little pug.”

  Anna laughed despite herself, while Lily blushed deeply and looked down at her feet.

  “More like fifty years,” snorted Lady Seraphinia, still stroking the sleepy Governess. “Don’t embarrass them, Mortimer.”

  “Are you telling me that I am no longer the love of your life, General?” said Miss Lindon as she returned to the room, a maid and the butler following her. “And here I am, still unmarried, for I have been wearing the willow for you since I turned eighteen.”

  “You’re unmarried because you’re too picky by half, my girl,” said Lady Seraphinia, but Anna detected the pride behind the scold, and Miss Lindon seemed quite amused by the observation.

  “I’m afraid that I am out of matrimonial pastures, my friends,” said the General. He put a large hand on the shoulder of the handsome Captain, who sat beside his wife and baby on the sofa. “I will not be taking a new wife after spending thirty-two happy years without finding a second woman I’m willing to marry. It’s a tough life being a husband, isn’t it Rowlands?”

  “I count my blessings every day that Charlotte married me, General, and shall never need another wife,” replied the Captain, his eyes only for his young spouse.

  “Not that we could afford it, anyway,” said his wife with a slight frown. “It’s awfully expensive having our own establishment, you know, but I suppose if the lady had a sizeable fortune it would be possible.”

  Anna exchanged a look with Lily, neither of them knowing how to react to this observation. Lady Seraphinia rolled her eyes to the sky and appeared to ask God to grant her strength, while everyone else tried their best not to laugh out loud.

  The Captain, shaking his head with a rueful smile, put an arm around the shoulder of his wife. “It’s also illegal for a man to have more than one wife at a time, my dear.”

  Mrs Rowlands’ brow cleared. “I did think that was the case until the General brought it up.”

  “I was talking about the fact I’m a widower, my dear,” chuckled General Mortimer.

  “Oh, I think I understand now,” said Mrs Rowlands, looking relieved, “but it’s very difficult to know who is married to whom, you know, and I never can get it straight when all the names are the same. Take Mr Arthur, for example! I was convinced he was the Duke’s son until Grandmama corrected me.”

  “You can’t be expected to know everyone, not with your appalling memory,” said Lady Seraphinia loudly. “Now get that great-granddaughter of mine back home at once, for even I can see that it’s not company she needs but a good long nap. No! Let me give her a kiss, first.”

  Mrs Rowlands did not seem in the least bit phased by the brusque manner in which she was spoken to. She stood up at the same time that the Dowager passed the outraged pug to Anna, who had to dedicate several moments to settling the dog back down.

  “Of course, Grandmama,” said Mrs Rowlands with a happy grin, and passed her rosy-cheeked baby to Lady Seraphinia for a quick cuddle.

  Anna felt an odd pang in her chest as she watched the little girl gurgle with delight. She had not been much around children, and with Matthew’s illness, there had never
been a possibility of children for herself. It was a regret, no matter how small, and it was challenging to squash it back down.

  “You be good, little Seraphinia Abigail Rowlands,” said the Dowager, quite ruining the image of her as a wicked witch or evil dragon, “and there will be an extra slice of cake for you when you visit me next.”

  The Rowlands family took their leave. Anna caught the end of their conversation as they walked away, and tried not to laugh out loud as the Captain struggled to explain to his wife that seeing as multiple wives were not legal, no, multiple husbands were not, either.

  “Feather-brained, but a good heart,” said Lady Seraphinia, although it was unclear who she was addressing.

  “But a beautiful great-grandchild,” said Lady Phillip with a sigh. “You are fortunate.”

  “Well with any luck Felix and his new bride will be presenting you with a happy bundle next year,” said Lady Seraphinia. She turned her attention toward Anna and Lily, studying them with an intense gaze. “Jane, you and Lady Phillip should tell Miss Clyde all about Felix’s recent marriage, for the way he met his wife is good enough to be a story in his own right. Mortimer, have you heard this one? I was quite entertained when Lord Phillip told me about it.”

  If General Mortimer had heard the tale before – and Anna expected that he had – then he was gentleman enough to show no sign of it.

  “What a glorious idea, my dear Phinnie,” he said as he helped a bewildered Lily to her feet and led her to sit beside Lord and Lady Phillip.

  Lady Seraphinia’s expression was unreadable, and had she been sat further away Anna would probably not have heard the older woman mutter “wretch,” with such respect. Jane moved as though being ordered about was nothing new to her, and then suddenly she found herself isolated on one side of the room with the Dowager, with everyone else listening to Lord Phillip’s story about his son’s marriage.

  Anna felt like everything her father had taught her about the Ton had been flipped upon its head. They had already been in Lady Seraphinia’s home for ten minutes, and yet neither the Drakes nor General Mortimer showed any inclination to leave. Indeed, she had the feeling that she and Lily were expected to spend a considerable amount of time with these new acquaintances, and was wondering if this was all some kind of trick at her expense.

  “Your in-laws spoke highly of you in their letter,” said Lady Seraphinia. Her expression was neutral in the way Anna supposed a judge would be.

  “They are very good to me,” said Anna, and raised her eyes to meet the hard stare of the Dowager.

  “Sir Desmond has a predisposition to like pretty girls, but I always found his wife to be a stickler. It is on the strength of her recommendation that I agreed to meet the girl that Matthew married out of the schoolroom,” said Lady Seraphinia.

  It appeared the woman pulled no punches. Luckily, Anna was not inclined to pull hers, either.

  “I was nineteen when my late husband and I married,” she said. “Hardly a child.”

  “From my perspective, you are still an infant,” said Lady Seraphinia, but her gaze softened a touch. “My condolences on the loss of your husband, Mrs Clyde. I knew his parents better than him, of course, but he was always a kind man, much like his older brother, Sir Desmond.”

  “Thank you, Lady Seraphinia.”

  “I remember him as a young man when he still lived at the Manor. He was very intelligent, unlike his younger brothers. Two years ago, he died, wasn’t it?”

  “Not quite,” said Anna quietly, remembering the last few days when he had been too ill to even sit up. “My parents thought it was high time I came out of mourning and prepare Lily for her first Season. She’s almost eighteen, you see.”

  “And inherited a pretty penny, no doubt,” said Lady Seraphinia, although her tone did not suggest she cared much either way about the matter.

  “My husband was a very successful businessman and wonderful father, even after he became ill. He spent his last few years ensuring that Lily would have everything she needed once he… once he was gone.”

  “Including having a pretty young mother to take care of her?” said Lady Seraphinia. Anna’s head whipped around to meet the Dowager’s gaze as she prepared for battle.

  Instead, she was surprised to see a considerable amount of kindness in those grey eyes.

  “Yes,” she eventually admitted. “And as a kindness to my father as well, I suppose. I’m the eldest of four girls.”

  The dowager was studying her intently, taking in her black hair and deep eyes. Anna stared back. She’d long since stopped being upset about the rumours and found it was better to address them straight on.

  “My parents were married in India before I was born. I have never met my mother’s family, although they do write to us. Two of my sisters long to visit them.”

  Lady Seraphinia cocked her head to one side and spoke in a language that was both familiar and foreign to Anna. Her eyes widened.

  “You speak Hindustani! Oh, I wish I could answer you, but my mother insisted that we all spoke only English, even though I begged her otherwise, and even father did not think there was harm. But the rumours had already started…” she trailed off, her cheeks warming with embarrassment as she thought of all the times she’d heard other girls in her neighbourhood make disparaging comments about her birth and legitimacy.

  “The rumours should be ignored and never addressed my girl,” said Lady Seraphinia. “Act as though they are beneath your notice, and people will soon forget about them.”

  “How do you know how to speak my mother’s language?” asked Anna.

  Lady Seraphinia smiled. “I am old enough that many people forget, Mrs Clyde, that my mother was a Muslim princess. She died when I was twelve, and my father brought my brother and me to live in England. I have not forgotten my roots.”

  “Neither has my mother,” Anna replied, sharper than she intended. “She was only trying to protect me, for it is not her heritage that bothered people so much as my… as my…”

  “I am aware of your situation, my dear. Sir Desmond told us all about you when you first married Matthew,” said Lady Seraphinia, and not unkindly. “What matters most is that Matthew Clyde believed you to be the best person to take care of his daughter, even if you are barely more than a child yourself. He was a man of good judgement and excellent taste.”

  “Thank you,” said Anna, although half her mind was thinking about her parents, and whether she should have brought them with her as she tried to launch Lily into society. Her wish to prove Matthew’s faith in her was strong, but if Lady Seraphinia could so easily throw her off her guard, what hope would she have in London?

  “The daughter… what is her name?” asked Lady Seraphinia as she looked across at the merry group surrounding Lord Phillip.

  “Lillia, although she’s always been called just Lily.”

  “Does she have any town bronze?”

  Anna shook her head. “I’m certain that you were aware she has none the moment you laid eyes upon her. That’s one of the reasons we came to Bath – I thought it would do her good to practice her manners and make some acquaintances before we go to London for her Season.”

  Lady Seraphinia nodded her approval. “An excellent idea, Mrs Clyde, but I would not dismiss her artlessness. Many men find it refreshing in this day and age, especially when surrounded by arch young misses practising a ridiculous air of ennui to appear more interesting than they truly are.”

  “She is a darling, isn’t she?” sighed Anna. “I want her to make a good marriage, to a man who will be kind to her and love her as much as she can love him. I’m not one of those matchmaking mamas who are out for a title. I just want her to marry well, and be happy.”

  “Not after a fortune, then?” said Lady Seraphinia.

  Anna startled and looked back at the Dowager. “Not in the least! Lily will be a very wealthy woman in her own right.”

  “A target for fortune hunters then.”

  “Not once they lea
rn about how her late father tied up her inheritance,” said Anna, smiling at the memory. “He was a very clever man, and ensured that no matter what happens, she will always be financially well off and in control of her own future.”

  “An enviable situation for most women,” said Lady Seraphinia. “it would be best to let potential suitors know as soon as possible that they will not seize control of her assets the moment she signs the marriage licence.”

  Anna coloured up as the vulgarity of the conversation hit her. “Oh dear, I must sound like a mushroom. I do beg your pardon, Lady Seraphinia.”

  The Dowager smiled, and at that moment her features underwent a transformation. She no longer resembled a haughty dragon, and once again looked like a kind, if strong willed, grandmother.

  “Nonsense, my girl. When you get to my age, you realise that there is no time to be wasted on these silly proprieties. I predict that your stepdaughter will be a great hit with the Ton and that you likely will be as well.”

  “Me?’ laughed Anna. “I’m practically a middle-aged widow! What man would be interested in me?”

  Lady Seraphinia’s expression changed again, and she looked exasperated. “A pretty and wealthy young widow barely twenty-four years of age. No, you are right. No man would be interested in that at all.”

  Chapter Five

  The Pump Room was perhaps Arthur’s least favourite place in Bath, not least because of the risk of his real identity being discovered. So far Jane’s suggestion of his pretending to be his own distant cousin had fobbed off the handful of people who had recognised him, while his unfashionable clothing had done the rest.

  The Duchess of Devenish had been another matter entirely.

  “Don’t be preposterous, Lord Arthur. I dandled you on my knee as a babe, and have known your mother since her marriage!” she had snapped at him when he had attempted to correct her.