A Sisterly Regard (12 page)

The next hour flew by as Phaedra found herself enjoying herself
far more than she had expected to. Then Mr. Dervigne came to claim his
dance. It was a country dance, so there was little opportunity for
conversation, but she still found herself ill at ease. His low-voiced
compliments when they came together were not so warm as to approach
impropriety, yet they edged ever so slightly beyond what was pleasing.
When he took her hand in the figures, his grasp was more firm than was
comfortable. At the end of the dance, he escorted her back to her parents.
When he bowed over her hand, he pressed a moist kiss upon her
palm.

She snatched it away, wiped it upon her skirt.

Ignoring her obvious distaste, he said, "Miss Phaedra, such a
pleasure. May I request your company for a drive in the park tomorrow? I
have a new phaeton. Having you accompany me on its maiden run would
give me great pleasure."

"I am sorry Mr. Dervigne. My mama does not allow me to go
driving in phaetons, for there is no place for my chaperone."

"Oh, but surely, your mother will agree to such a harmless
pastime. I promise you that all the best young ladies are seen in phaetons
these days."

Rather than argue with him, she said, "My mother's rules are
quite strict. You may ask her, but I am certain of the answer she will give
you. Thank you for the dance, Mr. Dervigne." She curtsied.
I cannot
like him. He does not exactly frighten me, but I would not choose to be alone with
him.

Mr. Dervigne, she noted, did not approach her mama, but
instead went to Chloe to claim his dance with her.

Chloe had watched Mr. Dervigne with Phaedra and wondered
why her sister seemed less than flattered by his attentions. Within a few
minutes of the beginning of the next set, she decided she liked his polished
manners and obvious interest. She responded to his compliments, offered
each time the figures of the dance brought them together, with the
demure smiles and fluttering lashes she had practiced well before her
mirror. When the music stopped, she accepted his offer of punch and
accompanied him to the refreshment tables. He provided her with a cup of
Almack's overly sweet but flavorless punch, then drew her aside from the
crowd.

"Miss Hazelbourne, I must confess that I find you a most
fascinating young lady. I wish we could have a less public opportunity to
get to know one another."

"Why thank you Mr. Dervigne. I should be glad to have you sit
with me during the next waltz." Lord Everingham's name was on her
dance card for that event, but she hoped Mr. Dervigne would catch the
hint and obtain permission for her to dance the waltz. Lady Mary had told
her that the patronesses sometimes yielded to an established gentlemen's
request before they would ordinarily grant permission to a young lady.
"Unless, of course, I receive permission to waltz with someone
else."

The gentleman was oblivious to her hinting. "Unfortunately,
Miss Hazelbourne, I am already engaged for the waltz. I had in mind
something more, ah, private."

"Like what, sir?"

"Perhaps you would care to drive in the park with me one day
soon. I have a perch phaeton, you know."

"Oh, how marvelous! I love perch phaetons." Chloe had never
ridden in one but thought them terribly dashing. "I would be pleased to
drive with you, Mr. Dervigne."

"The park is so crowded, though," he said slowly, as if in a
quandary. "One cannot really appreciate a phaeton at the slow speeds
permitted there. Perhaps you would prefer a short drive in the
country?"

"Oh, yes. I would like that above all things." Chloe clapped her
hands. Now here was a gentleman to cultivate. He offered something
more exciting than the bland pastime of driving sedately in Hyde Park. "I
am free on Monday next. Shall I expect you then?"

"At two, I think. That should be early enough," he told her with
a smile.

Chloe returned his smile, excited at the prospect of driving with
an experienced, older man. Mr. Martin, arriving to claim his second
dance, interrupted their conversation, greeting Dervigne with cold
politeness.

"Has that fella been sayin' anything impolite to you, Miss
Hazelbourne?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Why, no," she answered, puzzled by his question. "Why do
you ask?"

"Just wondered. Not the sort a girl like you should know. Bad
man."

The movements of the dance separated them before she could
find the words to defend Mr. Dervigne. She decided Mr. Martin must be
jealous of the older man's poise and consequence and chose to ignore his
words.

* * * *

Reggie had been speaking with Lady Jersey throughout the
country dance, but was keeping his eye on one of the participants. Her
apricot gown stood out among the whites and pinks that were so much
more common. As it ended he said, "Now, Sally, will you give permission
for the Misses Hazelbourne to waltz?"

"No, I will not," that lady replied. "There has been too much
talk of behavior that was less than acceptable, but the accounts differ as to
which of them is guilty. I would not be doing my duty if I were to
encourage such carryings on by appearing to condone them."

"You have been listening to gossip again."

"Of course. I always listen to gossip. How else am I to amuse
myself? No, Reggie, you must find someone else to waltz with. Now,
there is that poor, shy Miss Graham. She has done nothing to disgrace
herself. I would allow you to waltz with her, though I should not, for her
mother is the most pushing female that I have ever met."

"I will dance with her later, Sally, if you will first give me
permission to waltz with Miss Phaedra Hazelbourne. In fact, if you will
grant permission for both the Misses Hazelbourne, I will dance with Miss
Graham twice. Come Sally, do not be so stiff-necked."

"No, Reggie. And do not put on that pleading, little boy
expression. You will not get around me that way. Besides, if I were to give
the Misses Hazelbourne permission to waltz, the guilty one would next
waltz with Lord Everingham. And while I would like to see his mother
confounded with his finally showing some backbone, I do not want to
anger her."

"I will tell you which one behaved injudiciously--for that was all
it was, I believe--if you will give the other permission. As a matter of fact,
I believe that neither has behaved in a way to deserve your disapproval, no
matter how her actions appeared."

Lady Jersey chuckled. "For shame, Reggie. No one likes a
tattle-tale." She cast a flirtatious glance upwards. "You will continue to pester
me until you achieve your aim, will you not?"

"Of course," he said, wafting his handkerchief gracefully. "You
know me well enough."

"Well?"

"I would like to waltz with Miss Phaedra Hazelbourne," he said.
Lowering his voice, he added, "Just remember, I told you nothing more
than the name of the young woman I wish to waltz with."

She snatched the handkerchief from his hand and pretended to
swat him with it. "Honestly, Reggie, you are a caution. Come, then. I will
need you to let me know which of the two she is."

Reggie assumed an expression of innocence as he followed Lady
Jersey across the room. He indicated which of the sisters was Phaedra with
a slight nod of his head.

"Miss Hazelbourne," said Lady Jersey to the surprised girl, "I
would like to recommend Mr. Farwell to you as a partner for the
waltz."

Phaedra could barely find the words to thank her, so astounded
was she. She looked at him with consternation as he took her hand to lead
her out.

"But, shouldn't you be dancing with Chloe? I mean..."

"No Miss Phaedra, I should not."

"It is not right that I should be granted permission to waltz
before my elder sister," she protested.

"You may give me credit for attempting to obtain permission to
waltz with your sister first, for to do otherwise would be a lapse of good
ton
. But I was unable to do so, and so I settled for you as my
second choice." He smiled down on her. "You do waltz, do you not, Miss
Phaedra? It is not too unintellectual for you?"

Phaedra's distress disappeared with a rush of anger. "Yes, but I
am surprised that you would lower yourself to dancing with one who
bores you to sleep. You need not, Mr. Farwell. I can return to the chairs
and relieve you of this onerous chore."

"Don't be stupid," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I am
waltzing with you because I chose to. Now, will you engage in polite
conversation, or must we brangle throughout the dance?"

Phaedra had only waltzed previously with her father and sister,
so she found herself required to concentrate on her steps for the first few
moments. When she finally felt confident, she smiled up into his
face.

"Mr. Farwell, you dance beautifully."

"That is much more the thing, Phaedra. Now if we can manage
to get through this dance without ripping at one another, I will feel the
evening has been a success." His arm tightened about her waist slightly and
he swung her into a sweeping turn. "Are you excited about the Duchess's
ball?"

"Oh, yes, even though I know it is considered hopelessly
provincial to be so," she answered breathlessly. Waltzing with Mr.
Farwell was so much more spirited than with Chloe. "But I do love to
dance, and the Duchess' ballroom is so much nicer than Almack's."

"More comfortable, too. And the food and drink will be edible,
unlike the stale cake and weak punch which they serve here."

"Yes, but don't you see. If Almack's were to serve food and
drink to please the palate, we would all stuff ourselves and then be too
lethargic to dance."

"Is that what you intend to do at your ball?"

"Why of course. I am told that there will be lobster patties and
buttered crab and ices and everything. Papa has told Mama that we are to
be allowed to drink champagne, too, since it is our ball. It has always been
forbidden us before. I tasted it once and must confess that I quite enjoyed
it."

"So you will not only stuff yourself into lethargy, but you will
also drink yourself into insensibility. And you are the serious sister. I
shudder to think what Chloe will do."

Phaedra had started to chuckle at his partaking of her nonsense,
but at his criticism of her sister, she stiffened in his arms.

"My sister's behavior is none of your concern, sir."

"Oh, come now, Phaedra, I meant no insult."

"I will thank you not to make free of my name, sir."

"My sincere apologies,
Miss
Phaedra." His teeth
gleamed whitely as he grinned down at her, clearly unrepentant.

She was not mollified and thereafter answered his attempts at
resumption of the silly repartee with monosyllables. She was relieved and
in no good mood when he escorted her back to her mother. Her "Thank
you, Mr. Farwell" was polite, with nothing of friendliness in it.

She realized something was amiss as soon as she sat beside her
sister. Mama's lips were compressed and her brows lowered. Chloe glared
from behind her fan.

"What has happened?"

"You--you traitor," whispered her sister. "How could you
accept the waltz with Mr. Farwell. I should have been given permission
before you. I am the elder. You should have begged off."

"Chloe, I told you to hold your tongue," Mama warned in a low
voice.

"I will not. Phaedra knew that she had no right to waltz before
me."

"She had every right. The patronesses of Almack's are the sole
judges of who shall be given the permission to waltz here. They obviously
felt that Phaedra had shown herself to be a properly behaved young
lady."

"But she could have refused. She knew how important it was to
me."

"Yes, Chloe, I could have refused," Phaedra told her, "and I am
sorry I did not. Mr. Farwell was horribly rude."

Phaedra's head began to ache after Chloe's attack. As a result,
she had little enjoyment of the rest of the evening, despite waltzing twice
more, once with Mr. Martin, who was a surprisingly good dancer, and
once with Lord Wilson, a very young but extremely handsome man.
Chloe sat both waltzes out, trapped between her parents on the
sidelines.

Papa took himself off to his club after handing them into their
carriage. "I've need of some manly company after doing the pretty all
evening," he told them, seemingly oblivious to the currents of ill will
swirling among the women. Phaedra knew that only the presence of their
mama held Chloe in check during the drive home. Once they were alone
she would receive the brunt of her sister's rage.

Mama took her aside as she started up the stairs and told her to
lock her door against her sister. "For if you will refuse to listen to her
hysterics, she will cry herself to sleep and you will not suffer."

"Oh, Mama, I must listen. If I do not, she will work herself into
such a state that she will be ill for days. If I allow her to vent her spleen
upon my head, we will all be the better for it. Then tomorrow she will be
all smiles again and so much easier to go on with. And the Duchess' ball is
the day after tomorrow."

The storm that broke over her head was the worst display of
Chloe's temper she had ever experienced. Phaedra apologized and soothed
and reassured, but to little avail. All that mattered to Chloe was that at her
own ball she would not be allowed to waltz. Everything that had gone
wrong this past sennight was, somehow, all her sister's fault.

Phaedra made the mistake of pointing out that Chloe had
brought all her problems upon herself by refusing to follow her mother's
advice. It did no good. For the first time in their lives, she and her sister
went to bed without making up their differences. Phaedra consoled herself
with the thought that she was in the right. Chloe should not be too much
given her own way.

Even so, she slept poorly.