A Sisterly Regard (5 page)

"Sit down, Reggie, I cannot bear to have you towering over me
like that," Phaedra heard the Duchess say as they exited the saloon.

"What a peculiar and affected gentleman," she commented,
once they were in their waiting coach. "Have you ever seen anything so
outrageous as that waistcoat?"

"Yes, he does somewhat overdo the foppish mode, "her mother
replied, "but he does it so well and with such panache that it is no wonder
that he is everywhere received."

"Well, I thought he was perfectly grand," said Chloe. "And such
elegant manners. I vow, I have never received so gracious a
compliment."

"Piffle, the Duchess called it, and piffle it was," Phaedra
responded. "Mama, you wanted me to remind you to stop at Mlle.
Hortense's to pick up Chloe's new bonnet."

* * * *

Lady Gifford and her daughters were in the sewing room,
industriously occupied, the morning following their visit to the Duchess.
They were surprised to receive a huge bouquet of roses, addressed to Lady
Gifford and Miss Hazelbourne. Accompanying it was a note expressing, in
gracious and flowing periods, the gratitude felt by Herne Bradburn,
Viscount Wilderlake, for assistance rendered.

"Oh, my, Mama, a viscount," Chloe enthused. "And what
lovely roses. But who is he?"

"I believe he is the young man who took a header from his fancy
phaeton," Phaedra said. "Don't you think so, Mama?"

"I do indeed. I must write to thank his for the roses." She went
to her writing desk. "See, girls. He is not the rudesby you thought him.
I'm sure his gruffness that day was merely due to his injury." She stroked
the quill's end across her lips. "Wilderlake? I'm not familiar with that title.
I wonder...well, the Duchess will know. Remind me to ask her what she
knows of him."

Chloe clapped her hands. "Oh, I do hope that we will meet him
soon. Surely he will be at Almack's or at one of the parties to which we
have been invited. Perhaps he will dance with me! Mama, may I have one
of the roses for my bedchamber? See, there are too many for the parlor.
They are, after all, addressed to me as well as to you."

"No, indeed, they are not. He never saw you. It was Phaedra
whom he wished to thank."

"But see, it says 'Lady Gifford and Miss Hazelbourne' on the
card. I am Miss Hazelbourne. If he meant Phaedra, he would have said
so."

"Perhaps he did not know that Phaedra had an older sister. No
Chloe, you may not have a rose. You have enough imagination without a
rose to feed your romantic fantasies. We will place them in two vases in
the parlor, so that we all may enjoy them." She left the room, carrying the
bouquet.

"Was not Mr. Farwell ever so handsome and suave, Phaedra?"
Chloe said, after they had stitched and sketched in silence for a few
moments. "I declare, his garments were so elegant, not like those plain
ones the boys at home were wont to wear. And his manners, so gracious. I
did like him. Surely, with his friendship with the Duchess and Lady Mary,
we will see much of him. I wonder if Lady Mary is interested in
him."

"She did not seem so," Phaedra replied. "Her greeting was not
one of a young woman to a gentleman for whom she had a tendre."

"Well, so much the better. I would not want to flirt with
someone who was already taken. Such a waste of energy. I wonder what
his fortune is. It is too bad that he has no title."

"Chloe do not even think such thoughts, Do you wish to be
considered mercenary?"

"I am not mercenary, just practical. After all, you would not
expect me to marry a poor man, who could not afford to clothe me in the
first rank of excellence, would you?"

"Yes, if you truly loved him."

"Pooh! You are overly romantic. Here, look at these sketches.
What do you think? Would that gown not suit us for our presentation at
the Queen's Drawing Room?"

"No, it would not, Chloe. You know Mama said that the gowns
deemed suitable as Court gowns are hopelessly old fashioned, with hoops
and all."

"I suppose you are right. Still, this is a beautiful dress. Perhaps I
will save the sketch for after I am wed and may dress as I please. It would
be elegant, made up in a deep rose silk. Definitely not in muslin. I hate
muslin!"

The next morning at breakfast they were joined by Mama's
cousin, Louisa Arbuckle, who had arrived very late the night before. Lady
Gifford had earlier warned them to expect her. "I invited Louisa to be a
companion to you, for I know you will often desire to attend different
events."

Phaedra greeted her cousin with perfect good cheer, but Chloe
made it perfectly obvious that she was not best pleased.

Cousin Louisa twinkled at Phaedra. "I'm sure we'll have many
interesting adventures together," she said, reminding Phaedra of their
botanical and ornithological expeditions in years past.

Phaedra allowed herself to hope that the next few months
wouldn't be a complete debacle. Surely she could persuade Cousin Louisa
to accompany her to the occasional lecture or museum.

Although their formal come out would not be for another
fortnight, the Season truly started for the sisters on the following day.
During the remainder of the week before their first attendance at the
subscription ball at Almack's, they were invited to a tea party and a
musicale. They also spent one afternoon viewing the Elgin marbles, an
outing much enjoyed by Phaedra but not by Chloe, who nonetheless had
stared quite avidly at the male bodies so meticulously depicted in
marble.

One afternoon their mother took them driving in Hyde Park at
the fashionable hour of five, where they made the acquaintance of several
other girls and quite a few gentlemen. But none of the gentlemen,
complained Chloe later, came even close to the sort she wanted to meet.
"If this is all there is to a Season, why have we bothered coming to
London? We could have gone to Bath and met gentlemen as unexciting as
those we encountered today."

"There is no Almack's at Bath," Mama reminded her. "Have
patience, Chloe. The Season has hardly begun, and Town is still thin of
company. By this time next week, you will be besieged with gentlemen
callers. Soon your head will spin with the number of invitation you
receive."

Phaedra groaned inwardly. She could do without a siege by the
sorts of gentlemen she had met so far--silly fops whose only topic of
conversation was the style of their cravats or the patterns of their
waistcoats, not to mention Corinthians of the first stare whose
conversation was limited to sporting jargon or mildly scandalous
gossip.

* * * *

Wednesday finally arrived. Chloe spent the entire afternoon
trying on different gowns and complaining that they were all so insipid. By
five o'clock she had worked herself into a state bordering upon hysteria.
Every gown was crumpled and in need of pressing. She had scattered
ribbons and silk flowers and slippers and petticoats about her room until
the place resembled nothing so much as a particularly untidy dressmaker's
establishment.

Phaedra had hidden herself away in the library, wishing to gather
her energies for the evening's ordeal. Lady Gifford had retired to her
chambers to rest. Chloe's anxiety increased until a tap on her door came,
late in the afternoon.

Her mama opened the door and peeked in. "What in the
world!"

Chloe started, then burst into tears. "Mama, it is too much! I
have nothing to wear that is suitable! This horrid girl has mussed all my
dresses and will not press them. I cannot go to Almack's tonight. My life is
ruined!"

"Stop that wailing this instant, Chloe. What is this mess? How
did your clothing come to be strewn about in this manner?"

"I was choosing a gown to wear tonight. The pink one you said I
was to wear is too dowdy. So are all my other gowns." She hiccupped.
"Betty is useless. Why did we not bring Peggy? She is so much more
helpful."

Her mother frowned forbiddingly. "Betty, return belowstairs.
Edgemont has tasks for you."

The servant departed.

"Now, miss, let me have an explanation of this nonsense."

When Mama spoke in that no-nonsense tone, Chloe knew tears
were useless. Still, she tried. "Well, I wanted to see how the pink muslin
would look with my gloves and pearls and the white silk rose in my hair.
When I got it on, I looked in the mirror and realized that it would not do.
I appeared a silly young innocent with nothing to distinguish me. So I tried
on my other gowns and they looked equally drab. Nothing I could do, no
matter which ribbons or jewelry or anything I chose, would make me look
less than young and simpering. Why can I not have Grandmother's
diamonds? You know they are to be mine! And that stupid, stupid girl. All
she could say was 'You look fine, miss.' She even objected to buttoning
me. You must let her go, Mama. She will not suit at all."

"Betty is not your dresser, and even if she were, it is not
becoming in you to keep her for what must have been hours catering to
your whims," Mama replied as she busied herself with sorting through the
pile of gowns on the bed. "She has other duties, you know.

"Now then, enough of this. You will wear the blush and pink
gown tonight, or you will remain at home. I will tolerate no more excess
of sensibility. You will be all that is correct in a young girl making her first
Season. And you will behave yourself, young lady, or you will remain at
home for the rest of the Season. Furthermore, you will treat Betty and
Cousin Louisa with more courtesy."

Chloe summoned up tears to shimmer in her eyes.
"Mama--"

"Enough, Chloe. Cousin Louisa is your relative, not your
servant. I expect you to render her the courtesy you do me."

"But--"

"Chloe!"

When her mama used that particular tone, Chloe knew enough
to leave off her pleading. "Yes, Mama."

"I shall take the pink gown to be pressed. You will, without
assistance, return all your dresses and other garments to their proper
places. No, do not object; I am quite out of patience with you. If your
room is not restored to order by dinnertime, you will not go to Almack's
this evening. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mama," she said again. As soon as her mama had pulled
the door closed, she hurled the slipper she held with all her might. It made
a loud thud when it hit the door.
Oh, dear, I hope Mama did not
hear.

Apparently she had not, for Chloe was left alone to put her
gowns back in order.

Lady Gifford returned to her bedchamber where Parsons had
laid out her own gown. "I must ask you to assist me in keeping a watch on
Chloe, I'm afraid, Parsons. Betty is unable to resist her demands, and
indeed, only encourages Chloe in her distempers."

"Of course, my lady. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Do not assist her to dress. It will do her good to be forced to
do so without assistance for once. If she wants buttoning, she can always
come to me."

"What about Miss Phaedra? I don't believe she's even come
upstairs yet."

"Oh, dear! Please ask Mrs. Arbuckle to hurry her along, will
you? She can assist Phaedra while you and I oversee Chloe. That girl!" Not
for the first time she wished they had not been forced to delay Chloe's
come out. Well into her nineteenth year, she was too conscious of being
older than most of the girls being presented this Season. Her mother
worried that she would be overly anxious to find a husband.

What a coil. With one daughter overly eager to taste life's
spicier flavors and the other wishing only to be left to her studies, she was
likely to be driven to distraction at least once daily.
If only George had
come with me, instead of delaying. Thank goodness Cousin Louisa was able to join
us.

Chloe meekly came to her mother to ask to be buttoned and,
equally meekly, requested Parson's assistance with her hair. When she
descended the stairs for dinner, she did so demurely, and she remained
unusually quiet throughout the meal. So did Phaedra, but Lady Gifford
secretly thought hers was the quiet of dread.
I hope Louisa can lend
Phaedra the support she so desperately needs. Otherwise, this Season could be a
complete catastrophe.

She displayed a deliberate insensitivity toward both of her
daughters throughout the meal, instead chattering brightly to Cousin
Louisa about the delights of other Seasons.

Cousin Louisa, whose own Season had been cut short by the
death of her father, urged them to enjoy their own without anxiety about
finding husbands. "By the time I was done with mourning," she told the
girls, "I had met my dear Kenneth and had no more desire for the delights
of Town. Sometimes I wish..." Her smile was at once wistful and
tender.

Lady Gifford remembered how happy Cousin Louisa had seemed
with Mr. Arbuckle. Such a tragedy, his dying so young.

The ladies retired to put the last touches on their ensembles
before departing for Almack's. When the girls again came downstairs,
Lady Gifford and Cousin Louisa were awaiting them in the foyer. Lady
Gifford watched her daughters descending with a lump in her throat. They
looked so lovely and so grown up.

Chloe was clad in a pink muslin gown with a blush overdress,
embellished with white silk rosebuds at neck and hem. Matching pink
slippers could be seen peeping from beneath her skirt. Immaculate white
gloves covered her bare arms. The pearls around her neck were scarce
paler than her own creamy skin, and the pink silk rosebuds in her hair set
off its shining darkness.

Phaedra was equally lovely in an ice yellow gown without an
overdress but bearing a slight train. Her mother's amber necklace circled
her throat above a slightly scooped neckline--Lady Gifford had not been
able to convince her younger daughter to expose even a fashionably decent
amount of bosom--and a matching bracelet enclosed one white-gloved
wrist. Her dark hair was threaded with white and pale yellow
ribbons.