A Sisterly Regard (7 page)

Phaedra suspected that while neither lady believed her entirely;
both seemed willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her sister
chattered throughout breakfast, commenting on one or another of the
gentlemen with whom she had danced. Some of her comments were
derogatory, as when she ridiculed Mr. Martin's appearance.

Phaedra called her to task for this, reminding her that
appearances were often misleading. "You must know I found Mr. Martin
polite and thoughtful. Indeed, it was most evident that he was quite taken
with you. All he could speak of as we danced was your charm, your
beauty, and your graciousness. I felt myself quite abused, you
know."

"Oh, he is nice enough, I suppose," Chloe said airily. "I think I
shall keep him, for I think he will be quite attentive."

"Until someone better comes along, I suppose," Phaedra
retorted. "Chloe, you are sometimes not a very nice person. I hope that
you will not come to regret your attitude some day."

"Enough, girls," Lady Gifford interrupted. "You still have
sewing to finish, so do stop dawdling. Chloe, Mr. Martin is a very nice
young man and you shall treat him with kindness. It is not his fault that his
appearance is less than pleasing. He resembles his father greatly. Do not
trifle with his affections."

"I shall not encourage him to offer for me, if that is what you
mean, Mama. He has no title, after all." Chloe glided from the room in an
exaggerated walk, her aristocratic nose in the air.

Lady Gifford and her younger daughter exchanged rueful
smiles.

"I hope, when my sister receives her comeuppance, it does not
totally devastate her," Phaedra said.

"So do I, my dear, but I am not at all hopeful." Her mother
sighed.

* * * *

Several of the gentlemen with whom the sisters had danced at
Almack's called that afternoon. Lady Gifford was somewhat taken aback
when a person she knew only slightly arrived, her daughter in tow. The
slim, languid Mrs. Graham was dressed all in black. Her blonde, rather
plain daughter wore a beribboned and beruffled puce gown that became
her not at all. The girl looked to be somewhat younger than
Phaedra.

"My dear Lady Gifford, so happy to see you again. Why, I was
elated to see you at Almack's last evening. And such beautiful daughters.
So sure to make a splash in society. Sarah so enjoyed meeting them last
night and positively insisted on our coming to renew our acquaintance this
morning."

All this was spoken in a faint voice as Mrs. Graham settled
herself upon a sofa with every appearance of staying there forever. "Sarah,
do go and chat with the Misses Hazelbourne. I'm sure you girls will
become great friends."

Mrs. Graham continued to gush about the Season and the
Duchess and her daughter's glowing prospects until Lady Gifford gave up
trying to respond and simply nodded appropriately. She sat back let the
woman's word flow past her.
Louisa, why did I send you to the Pantheon
Bazaar this morning? I need you.

Chloe and Phaedra apparently were finding themselves with
quite the opposite problem. After whispering a polite good morning,
Sarah Graham simply sat and gazed upon their faces. Her response to
Phaedra's politely interested questions was a silent blush. When Chloe
ventured to compliment her on her really quite hideous morning dress,
she simpered in confusion. The Grahams left after an interminable twenty
minutes. Lady Gifford relaxed back into her chair and breathed a sigh of
relief.

Cousin Louisa entered a few moments later. "I met your callers
on the steps," she said with a smile. "I wasn't aware you were acquainted
with Mrs. Graham, Isabella."

"I was not," Lady Gifford replied, still feeling somewhat
exhausted from being overwhelmed with words, "and I must confess that I
wish I were not now."

"I was warned about her before I came to Town." Cousin Louisa
seated herself on the sofa beside Lady Gifford. "In a way, her visit this
morning might be seen as a good omen. It seems she has married off three
daughters already, merely by attaching them to more popular girls and
letting them pick up the leavings."

"Do you mean that she actually came here because she wanted
her daughter to follow mine about and meet all their beaux? How
common!"

"Oh, yes. She is very good at insinuating herself and her
daughters into the crowd surrounding the Season's more popular young
ladies. She shows an uncommonly astute sense of which of them will
become successes. I should warn you that she is also an accomplished
gossip who relishes even a hint of scandal."

"But how do you know this, Cousin Louisa, when Mama did
not?" asked Chloe. "You have not been in Town these past four years, you
said".

"Oh, I have several friends with whom I have kept in touch. Ask
the Duchess to tell you of the woman's past adventures. The most likely
reason for your mother not being acquainted with the woman is that she
has never had daughters to present before. She would not have
encountered Mrs. Graham in the ordinary course of events, for the
woman does not generally travel in the first circles of Society.

"Furthermore, I'll warrant that, once she has insinuated one of
her daughters into a household, she becomes ill and plaintively requests
Lady So-and-So to take pity on her poor health and please, take the poor
child along to this fete or that. And Lady So-and-So, poor sympathetic fool
that she is, does so, thus saving Mrs. Graham the exertion of
chaperonage."

Lady Gifford shook her head with some vigor. "She will
certainly not try that trick on me. Thank you, Cousin Louisa, for giving us
warning. I hope, girls, you did not encourage Miss Graham? It would not
do for you to become friends with her, I think."

"No, Mama, not a bit of it. Under other circumstances,
however, I should not mind doing so," Phaedra said. "Poor girl, so sadly
lacking in confidence. And so unsuitably dressed. I wonder how she feels
about her mother's methods."

"How could one be friends with a nonentity such as that? She
spoke no more than five words during the whole visit," Chloe added. "But
I pity the poor girl, nonetheless. Even riding on another's skirts, she will
not marry this Season, I think. Not unless she overcomes her terrible
shyness."

"Yes, she must be quite unlike her older sisters, from all
reports. They, I am told, combined the incredible brass of their mother
with a liveliness and prettiness that made them almost acceptable. If this
one is less lively, she must resemble her father who, I am told, was a
studious, quiet man," Cousin Louisa said.

Just then Edgemont opened the door to announce Mr. Reginald
Farwell. Phaedra saw Chloe stiffen in her chair.

Mr. Farwell was a vision in biscuit inexpressibles, a green and
yellow flowered waistcoat, and a pale blue coat. The high red heels of his
shoes made him seem even taller. He minced into the room and bowed
gracefully over the hand extended to him by Lady Gifford.

"So pleased, Lady Gifford," he murmured. "And your lovely
daughters, too." His collar was so high that he was required to turn his
entire upper body to look at the girls.

"Good morning Mr. Farwell," Phaedra said with as much
cordiality as she could master.

Chloe repeated the greeting, but less cordially. Phaedra was
tempted to pinch her.

"I fear I was remiss in not requesting the pleasure of your
company in one of the sets last evening," he said, aiming his words to the
empty air between them and somewhat above the level of their heads. "It
is so fatiguing. I could not bring your names to mind and did not wish to
appear discourteous in admitting I had forgotten them. But this morning,
oh, quite early, I called on Her Grace and she was kind enough to made
them known to me. Please accept my abject apologies. I shall not forget
them again."

Phaedra bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud at this
unbelievable excuse. She suspected he was testing them in some way, but
for the life of her, she could not understand why.

Her sister visibly preened herself and fluttered her lashes until
Phaedra feared she would be blown away. "La, sir," Chloe almost
simpered. "I will forgive you this time. But if you should forget again, I
will not be able to forgive the second lapse."

"How could I ever again forget?" he said. "Miss Hazelbourne,
you have my word that your name and your face are engraved on my
heart. As are yours, of course, Miss Phaedra," he continued, turning to
her and waving a lace-edged handkerchief just under his chin.

"I am impressed you arose so early, merely to ascertain our
names," she responded tartly. "Was it an arduous task?" Instantly she felt
her mother's frown directed her way.

He appeared oblivious to her insult. "Not at all. How could I
resist learning the identities of two such very different and lovely young
women."

Phaedra fell silent then, letting her sister carry on a flirtatious
conversation with the gentleman. Chloe and Mr. Farwell did not seem to
miss any contributions she might have made, for he and her sister
continued to exchange pleasantries, most of them comprising fulsome
flatteries from him and flirtatious responses from her. Phaedra wondered
how anyone could converse thus, if conversing it could be called.
Piffle. That's what it is. Just piffle.

Her attention, however, was caught when Mr. Farwell said,
"And do you have great expectations of your Season, Miss
Hazelbourne?"

"Oh, yes, I do, Mr. Farwell," Chloe replied before Phaedra
could interrupt. "My intention is to become an incomp--Ouch! Phaedra,
why did you pinch me?"

"I thought I saw a spider on your arm."

"You never did, not in Mama's parlor!"

"Well, it looked like one. Tell me Mr. Farwell, are you
interested in the theatre?" she asked, in an attempt to distract
Chloe.

"I am, Miss Phaedra. And you?"

"Oh, yes, and I am so looking forward to seeing the great Kean
in Hamlet. But I am very curious. Have you heard the rumor that Mr.
Shakespeare did not really write his plays?"

"I have heard that rumor, yes. But I consider it a great calumny.
The immortal bard should not be so impugned."

"But do you not think that the evidence is great that at least
some of the plays might have been written by someone else? Roger Bacon,
for instance. Or Sir Christopher Marlowe."

"I beg of you, Miss Phaedra, do not endeavor to involve me in a
literary argument. it is all so fatiguing." He yawned, patting his mouth
with the handkerchief. "Have you attended the opera yet?"

"No, but we are to go tonight, with Her Grace and Lady Mary,"
Chloe interjected. "Do not mind my sister, sir. She is sometimes overly
interested in intellectual subjects. Tell me about the opera house. Is it
indeed as grand as I have heard?"

Mr. Farwell spoke of the beauties of the Covent Garden Theatre
for the remaining few minutes of his visit, then punctiliously took his
leave. As the parlor door closed behind him, Phaedra rounded on her
sister.

"Chloe, how could you!" she demanded. "You almost told him
of your ambitions, and you know Mama says you must never speak of that
subject in public. What would he have thought of you?"

"Phaedra, you promised not to be literary with callers. Oh, how
could you? He will think we are all bluestockings!"

"That will be enough, girls," their mother told them. "Neither
of you went beyond what was proper in your speech, but you both came
very close to it. Please keep a better watch upon your tongues, or you will
disgrace yourself. And Phaedra, next time do not accuse me of harboring
spiders in my parlor, if you please. You will quite ruin my
reputation."

"I am sorry, Mama, but it was the only excuse I could think of
for pinching her," Phaedra replied, laughing.

"Yes, and I am sure that you have bruised me."

"No more than you would have bruised your own reputation,
had you continued in the direction you were taking," Lady Gifford said.
"Reggie Farwell is quite the pink of the
ton
and is received
everywhere. If he were to take you in dislike, your future in Society would
be blighted. Chloe, when you are as old as Lady Jersey and as famous, you
may speak your mind. For the nonce, keep a damper on your
tongue."

The entrance of two of their dancing partners of the evening
before put a stop to their bickering. Mr. Martin, Chloe's earnest admirer,
immediately gravitated to her side and Mr. Werthing, an older gentleman
with whom Phaedra had enjoyed serious conversation, came to sit beside
her and tell her of his studies of Roman antiquities in Dorset. After those
gentlemen departed, other callers arrived.

They spent the rest of the afternoon conversing or sewing
between calls. Neither disgraced herself again.

* * * *

That night the Hazelbourne ladies were the guests of the
Duchess, who had rented a box at the opera for the Season. None of the
young ladies had ever attended an opera before, though all were familiar
with some of the more popular arias.

Although she was not musically inclined as Chloe was, Phaedra
was enthralled with the drama. She was sorry to see the end of the first
act. When the house lights went up, she was surprised to find that one
could see the occupants of most of the other boxes. She and Chloe and
Lady Mary amused themselves by trying to find people whom they
knew.

Mr. Martin came in to visit during the intermission, again
devoting his attentions strictly to Chloe. She blossomed under his adoring
gaze, fluttering her eyelashes and waving her fan flirtatiously. Lady Gifford
joined their conversation, asking about his mother who had recently been
ill.

Mr. Farwell appeared and invited Lady Mary to join him in a
short walk in the corridor between acts. Cousin Louisa volunteered to
accompany them in the interests of propriety. Phaedra felt a pang of envy.
She was used to more activity than this day had offered. She continued
looking around the theatre.