A Sisterly Regard (14 page)

What would this night bring? Would she take? Or would she be
judged merely acceptable, like so many girls who had to settle for less than
their dreams?

No! I will not believe that. I must take. I must.

Lord Gifford was on Phaedra's right and Lady Jersey on her left.
She found that she only had to nod and smile occasionally to converse with
Lady Jersey. By the time the ladies retired, she felt as if she had been
caught within a whirlwind.

The receiving line, which Phaedra had dreaded because of the
numbers of people she would have to meet, was merely exhausting. So
many curtsies, so many hands to shake, so many
how d'ye dos
to
respond to, and so many names to try to remember. She found herself in a
daze, until a vaguely familiar voice caught her ear. She looked up into
nearly black eyes set beneath heavy, dark brows.

The Duchess greeted the older woman beside him. "Well,
Elizabeth, it's about time you came back to Town. So this is your son.
Cranky lookin' fella, ain't he? Make you both acquainted with my
granddaughter, Lady Mary Follansbee."

Lady Mary greeted them graciously. Wilderlake bowed low
over her hand, but he did not smile.

The Duchess's many-ringed had waved in her general direction.
"Lord and Lady Gifford, and their daughters, Chloe and Phaedra."

The sisters had barely time to murmur greetings to Lady
Wilderlake before her son bowed before them, saying, "And one of you
was my good Samaritan, but which one? You are so very similar."

She had no chance to reply, for the next guests were close
behind him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Chloe gazing after him.
Oh, dear. This could become complicated.

Lady Mary was led out for the first dance by her grandfather, the
Duke of Verbain, Chloe by Lord Gifford, and Phaedra by her mama's
cousin. She had always liked her ministerial uncle, Godfrey Stevens. It was
he who had encouraged her parents to allow her to become educated far
beyond what was usual for a young woman of her position.

She appreciated his coming to Town just so she would have a
male relative with whom to open the ball. He had arrived only that day,
but would stay for a sennight. Phaedra engaged to go with him to the
gardens at Kew the next day but one. Uncle Godfrey had long encouraged
her interest in plants, and indeed, was acquainted with Sir Joseph Banks.
She looked forward to the excursion with great pleasure.

The Duchess had planned that every fourth dance would be a
waltz. Unlike most of her contemporaries, she enjoyed the dance and did
not think it improper. Phaedra had reluctantly allotted the first waltz to
Mr. Farwell, fearing that they would again argue. She was standing by her
mother, waiting for him to claim her, when Lord Wilderlake approached
her.

"Miss Hazelbourne, dare I hope that you are not engaged for this
dance?"

"I am, sir, but I do not believe my sister is." It never occurred
her to ask if he would be willing to sit out the waltz with Chloe.

"Then will you save another waltz for me? I wish to speak with
you, which I cannot do in a country dance."

"I would be delighted."

He signed her dance card for the last waltz of the evening.

Reggie approached just then. "Trying to steal my partner,
Wilderlake?"

"No, but to capture her for another." He bowed and left them,
heading for Chloe who stood in the center of a group of young men.

As the music began, he set his hand at Phaedra's waist. "Well,
Miss Phaedra, what shall we dispute this evening?"

"Why nothing at all, Mr. Farwell. I am so in charity with the
world that I will not argue, even with you."

"Good." He pulled her closer and she did not resist. "At the risk
of a setdown, I would like to say that I have never seen you looking
lovelier. I am pleased that you chose to carry my posy."

"I had no choice. It so perfectly matched my dress, you
see."

He whirled her about the floor. "It does, indeed. We fops are
good for something, are we not?"

Phaedra only smiled. She was completely lost in her enjoyment
of the dance. If only it could go on like this forever.

"Oh my God," he said suddenly.

"What is it? Did I tread upon your foot?"

"Your sister. She is dancing."

"Oh, no! How could she? And with whom?" She tried to see
Chloe, but too many of the other dancers were taller than she.

"With Wilderlake. He could not know she was not granted
permission last night."

"What can we do?" Phaedra was unsure why she imagined he
could help the situation, but had no doubt that if anyone could, it would
be he.

"Too late. Lady Jersey has seen her. No, do not pull away. You
cannot stop her now, and if you were to fly to her side, it would only
compound the problem. Smile, Phaedra, you are enjoying this dance with
me. And you have not a care in the world. Come, now, let me see your
eyes sparkle. Surely you are that good an actress."

She smiled, but her heart was not in it. They danced in silence
until the music stopped, and she started to rush to her mother. He held
her back and said, "Slowly, slowly. You must not act as if anything is
amiss." They strolled across the ballroom. Mr. Farwell smiled and nodded
at various ladies and gentlemen. Phaedra attempted to do the same, but
her face was so stiff she wondered if her expression was not closer to a
grimace.

As they approached, Phaedra heard Mama say, "Chloe, I do
believe you have torn your hem."

Chloe opened her mouth to protest, but a quick frown silenced
her. "Let us retire and I will see if I can pin it up. Phaedra, will you assist
me? If you gentlemen will excuse us?"

As soon as they were in the corridor Chloe said, "Mama, my
gown--"

"Hush, you silly child. Do not say a word until we are alone."
Instead of turning toward the ladies' retiring room, she guided them into a
small salon and closed the door behind her. "Phaedra, please stand here
and see that no one interrupts us. Chloe, what have you to say for
yourself?"

Chloe's lower lip stuck out, much as it had when she was a child
and thwarted. "It is
my
ball, and I have the right to enjoy it."
Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

"You have no rights except those you are given. And you were
not given the right to waltz. You may never be allowed into Almack's
again."

"I don't care! It is a stuffy place where they make you act like
statues. I hate it! There will be other balls, anyway."

"There may not be, if you are not invited. You have once again
showed society that you do not accept its rules. You could be ostracized
for the rest of the Season."

"Mama, someone is approaching," Phaedra called softly from
her position by the door.

"Very well," her mother said. "Chloe, I cannot force you to sit
at my side for the remainder of the evening, for to do so would cause even
more talk. But you will behave yourself or you will find yourself restricted
to the house for the rest of the Season. Do you hear?" She rose to her feet.
"There, I believe that I have mended it," she continued as footsteps paused
outside the door. "Now move carefully and perhaps the hem will not tear
again this evening."

"Thank you, Mama," Chloe responded dutifully, although her
mulish expression belied her tone.

The door opened just then and the Duchess entered. She hardly
glanced at Chloe and Phaedra. "Do you need assistance, Isabella?"

"No, I believe I have handled the problem for now. I may call on
your influence later, however, when we have some idea of how severe the
consequences are."

"Serve her right if she was ostracized," Her Grace said. "Foolish
chit."

"I'm not--"

Mama held up a hand. "Hush, Chloe. Do not say one single
word."

Phaedra saw the worry in her eyes, and tightened her lips. Poor
Mama. She had been so determined that they would make good matches in
London. For herself, Phaedra didn't care. She had never expected to take.
But Chloe--

It's her own fault, though. Mama warned her. So did
I.

When they returned to the ballroom, both girls were claimed by
their partners. Unfortunately, the dance sets had already been made up, so
they were forced to sit out. But they danced the next set and no one acted
as if there was anything unusual in Chloe's behavior. She relaxed, certain
her mother and the Duchess had exaggerated the situation's gravity.

Lord Everingham sat out the next waltz with Chloe, under her
mother's watchful eye. "I cannot see why you will not dance this waltz
with me," he told her, a trace of petulance in his voice. "You danced with
Wilderlake."

"Oh, my lord, I am so fatigued. Besides, we can talk more
comfortably here than on the dance floor."

"I cannot hold you in my arms, here," he retorted.

Chloe soothed his hurt feelings with soft words and promises of
other times, other waltzes. When the music ended, he relinquished her to
her next partner unwillingly but with good grace.

Mr. Martin was her partner for the supper dance, Lord
Everingham having been required to take his mother in. The shy young
man was pathetically grateful for the favor. Chloe, not wanting to be alone
with his puppylike devotion, suggested that they join her sister and Lady
Mary at their table.

It was a gay group. Reginald Farwell had engaged Lady Mary for
the supper dance and Phaedra's escort was Lord Wainright, a chubby,
happy-go-lucky young man. The conversation was anything but serious,
and the group drew the attention of the adjoining tables with their hilarity.
Lady Mary and Phaedra convulsed the group with their story of the
proposed additions to the ballroom decorations.

Lord Wainright was particularly taken with the idea of the ants.
"I say, they could have been placed in the shrubbery around the musician's
balcony, don't y'know. Then we could have had a gay old time when they
started crawling up the fiddler's legs. None of this slow music, but a jolly
good romp." He chuckled at the image this evoked.

"A frog in the punchbowl would have been a good addition,"
Mr. Farwell contributed, sounding half asleep.

"Oh, yes," Phaedra agreed. "And he could have been trained to
croak whenever someone took his third glass of punch. A sure cure for
greed."

Several other suggestions were made, each more silly than the
other. Chloe was less amused than the others, for she was still fulminating
at how unfairly she had been treated. First those wicked old women at
Almack's refusing to grant her permission to waltz, and then her own
mama lacking all sympathy for her disappointment. Even her sister was
against her.

Lord Wainwright's suggestion of goldfish in the champagne was
quite disgusting, but she did not say so. Still, the others' laughter was
contagious, so she enjoyed herself somewhat.

The last waltz was also the final dance of the evening. Mama had
consented to dance it with Papa, leaving Chloe alone on a sofa with
instructions to remain there with Cousin Louisa. Lord Wilderlake came to
claim Phaedra. She watched them swing into the waltz and told herself
that she didn't care. Not one little bit.

But she did. The unfairness of it all seemed to swell inside her,
becoming a hot ball of resentment. She chewed a fingernail, and tried to
ignore the whirling rainbow of color as everyone else enjoyed
themselves.

"Miss Hazelbourne, there is an empty hallway just
outside."

She looked up at man who had spoken so softly. "Lord
Everingham. How good of you to come to keep me company."

"Actually," he said, with a sly smile, "I had something more
interesting in mind. As I said, there is an empty corridor just outside that
door." He pointed to her left. "The music is quite audible there. Would
you care to accompany me?"

She glanced at the door, at Cousin Louisa, who was turned
away, speaking to a woman on her other side, and then back at him. "My
lord, I am afraid I do not understand--"

"Come dance with me, Miss Hazelbourne. As long as no one
sees you, what difference can it make?"

She had already danced with him twice. Chloe remembered her
mother warning her that to dance with any gentleman more than two
times was tantamount to announcing their betrothal.

Lord Everingham, for all his wealth, was not the man of her
dreams.

But it is the last waltz. And this is my ball, my come
out.

She held out her hand and allowed him to raise her to her feet. A
few steps and they were in the corridor. He pulled the door closed behind
them. The music was, indeed, quite loud enough to dance to.

He might look like a sheep, but he was a superb dancer. She
closed her eyes and let the music take her.

* * * *

After they had waltzed in silence for a few moments, Lord
Wilderlake smiled down at Phaedra and said, "Are you the sister who
kindly came to my aid as I lay senseless along the road?"

"I am, my lord. I hope you have no lingering pain from your
injury."

"None at all. I thought it was you, although the first time I saw
your sister, I wondered. Are you twins?"

"No. Chloe is almost two years older than I, and far more
outgoing. I am the family bluestocking, and tend to reclusiveness, I fear."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wondered why she had
said them. "Chloe is lively, and thrives on company and conversation and
gaiety. She is not exactly frivolous, you must understand. It is just that,
compared to her, I am quite dull."

"So you claim to be sober and gloomy?"

"No, not gloomy. But my interests lie less with people and more
with plants and art and literature."

"And music?" he asked in a hopeful tone.

She laughed. "I have no talent for music. Chloe does, and takes
it very seriously indeed. I cannot carry a tune, although I do enjoy
listening."