Candice Hern (9 page)

"There are a few gentlemen I am considering. If they’re interested." She looked at each woman around the room. "You promise not to repeat it if I tell you who they are?"

"That was part of our agreement," Beatrice said. "At least that is what I understood and what I expect. What is said here stays here."

"Of course," Penelope said.

The duchess nodded, and everyone turned to Grace.

She had uncrossed her arms but still did not look entirely comfortable. "I have not yet become accustomed to hearing such talk here in my own morning room, so you can be sure I will not repeat it elsewhere."

"All right, then," Marianne said, "just between us. I had considered Sir Arthur Denney, Sidney Gilchrist, and Lord Aldershot."

The duchess nodded. "All three will do, in my opinion."

"All three?" Grace said, her voice rising to a squeak as she leaned forward over the desk. "Are you suggesting Marianne should take all three of them as lovers? Good heavens."

Marianne laughed and the rest joined in. "I am not sure I'm ready for one lover, much less three! These gentlemen are just three possibilities, that is all."

"Forgive me," the duchess said, grinning broadly. "I ought to have said any
one
of the three would do. Each is attractive, charming, and unattached. If I may be so bold as to suggest it, you might also consider Lord Julian Sherwood. I believe I noted an interest on his part last Season."

"An interest in me?" Marianne asked with some surprise. She had barely paid attention to the young man, except to note his good looks and fine manners. "He is quite young, is he not?"

"And what does that signify?" Penelope asked. "Personally, I prefer a younger man. They are delightfully energetic, and much less likely to want a more serious involvement. And Lord Julian is not all that young. What is he, twenty-five or twenty-six? He would be a splendid diversion for any of us. Not only is he extraordinarily handsome, but he is a very good dancer." Amusement lit her blue eyes. "If a man moves well on the dance floor, it suggests he might also move well in other more intimate situations."

All the ladies — except Grace, who looked thoroughly embarrassed — burst into laughter.

"Penelope is quite right," the duchess said. "I have found dancing to be a very good indication of other skills. Watch your three gentlemen at our next ball, Marianne. If any of them looks stiff and awkward, or has no sense of music or timing, you might want to reconsider."

Marianne tried to bring to mind a memory of any of the three men dancing, but came up short. The only image she could conjure up was of gliding gracefully down a line with Adam, who always danced beautifully. And since he never seemed to be in want of a woman, she would be willing to bet Wilhelmina's theory, in his case, was absolutely true.

"Oh, dear," Beatrice said with a grimace. "I am picturing the somewhat cloddish moves of George Abernathy dancing with Emily at her come-out ball last week. If she develops a tender for the young man, I suppose I shall have to have a little talk with her." When the rest of them laughed, she added, "I am only thinking of my niece's happiness, after all."

"And what of yours, Beatrice?" Penelope asked. "Have you made any progress in our collective quest for a particularly
merry
Season?"

"Good Lord, no. Have you any idea how much effort is involved in chaperoning a girl through her first Season? I have not had a free moment, I assure you, to even notice if a man shows an interest in me. I am much too preoccupied with assessing the merits of any young men who show an interest in Emily. It's a daunting task. And her mother would have my head if I allowed the girl to be courted by someone unsuitable. But before you ask, yes, I will keep an open mind should an opportunity present itself."

"Our first ball should provide excellent opportunities," Penelope said. "That's one advantage to controlling the invitation list. We can make sure all the attractive, available men are invited."

"All of the men Marianne mentioned received invitations," Grace said, pointing to a list on the desk in front of her. She hoped, no doubt, to steer the conversation back to business.

"Excellent," the duchess said. "It should be the perfect venue for testing the waters, Marianne. If the weather holds, the gardens at Yarmouth House are quite lovely at night."

Grace frowned. "As patronesses, we really should remain in the ballroom throughout the evening."

"Bosh!" Penelope exclaimed. "Once we've done our duty in the receiving line, there is nothing more required of us but to mingle and enjoy the evening. You may be sure I intend to take advantage of the gardens with Eustace Tolliver. It would do you no harm, Grace, to find a handsome gentleman and do the same."

Grace uttered a little hiss of impatience and cast a glance at the ormolu clock on the mantel as it struck the quarter hour.

"I don't know about the gardens," Marianne said before Grace had a chance to mention their ten minutes was up, "but I am ready to begin my woeful attempts at flirtation. At least I think I am. I have a lovely new dress — yards of mulberry crepe with the prettiest beadwork you ever saw."

"It sounds delightful," the duchess said, "and will no doubt put us all in the shade. There is nothing like a pretty dress to give one confidence. You'll be smashing, my girl, have no fear."

"I hope you're right."

"You always look gorgeous," Beatrice said, nudging Marianne gently in the ribs. "I have long envied your coloring, which goes so well with most anything. With this blasted red hair, I can't wear half the shades you do. It is a constant trial. Can you imagine me in mulberry? But I do have a new apple blossom sarsnet dress made up by Mrs. Osgood that I am planning to wear to Yarmouth House. I am quite pleased with how it came out."

"And you, Grace?" the duchess asked. "What will you be wearing?"

Grace smiled for the first time that afternoon. Marianne knew that all the talk about gentlemen and flirting and dancing — not to mention those more intimate skills Penelope hinted at — was horribly discomfiting for Grace. But she was still young and so elegantly beautiful that it might do her good to be a Merry Widow for a change rather than the oh-so-proper bishop's widow.

"I have a new Pomona green silk dress with lovely embroidered trim," Grace said. "I think — I hope — it is quite pretty."

"I am sure it is," the duchess replied. "I cannot wait to see it. Green is a good color for you, my dear. And Penelope?"

"I'll be in Sardinian blue crepe. Eustace Tolliver tells me I look best in blue."

"And I shall be in printed India muslin," Wilhelmina said. "What a colorful group we shall make. Now that I know who is wearing what, I have a little something for each of you." She reached for a large reticule beneath her chair and retrieved four slim boxes. She rose with the stack of boxes in her hand. "A small celebratory token, in honor of our first ball of the Season."

As she walked about the room, she checked a tiny painted flower on the lids before handing a box to each lady.

"Oh, Wilhelmina!" Beatrice said as she opened hers. "How marvelous."

Each box held a delicate brisé fan of pierced ivory in the new smaller size that had lately become so fashionable. Each fan was intricately pierced in a different pattern, and each was painted with a different flower. Marianne's fan was strung with a dark pink ribbon and painted with tiny clusters of deep purple pansies. It was one of the prettiest fans she'd ever seen.

"What a lovely idea," Penelope said. "They shall be our badges of honor as patronesses of the ball. Thank you ever so much." She tugged Wilhelmina down for a kiss on the cheek.

Grace seemed overcome with the kindness of the gesture and merely laid a hand on the duchess's arm as she passed the desk.

"Wilhelmina," Marianne said, "they are lovely. How very thoughtful of you."

The duchess fluttered a hand in a dismissive gesture and returned to her chair, arranging her skirts carefully about her. "It was nothing. Merely a small token. Actually, Marianne, it was you who inspired me with the idea of fans."

"Me?"

"Yes. I was pondering your situation, knowing this business of seeking a lover was confounding you a bit. I knew of your arranged marriage and guessed you were somewhat inexperienced in the fine art of flirtation."

Marianne gave a little snort. "You guessed correctly."

"Well, then, it is time for a bit of practice. Ladies, we are going to review the secret language of the fan. Not so secret, after all, since every man on the town knows every signal. Let us begin with the most important signal of all." She opened her own fan and rested it gently on her right cheek. "This means 'yes.'"

"It worked! Oh, dear."

Marianne watched as Lord Hopwood smiled and made his way across the room. She had touched the edge of her fan with one finger, indicating she wished to speak to him.

"I do not recall you mentioning Lord Hopwood," Grace whispered. "Why did you signal him?"

"It was an impulse," Marianne said, and bit back a smile. "I thought I would practice on someone else first."

His lordship approached and sketched a bow. He was tall and dark-haired, with intriguing sweeps of gray at his temples. "Mrs. Nesbitt. Mrs. Marlowe. You are both looking lovely this evening."

"Thank you, my lord," Marianne said. "You are most kind."

"You have arranged yet another magnificent evening," he said, his glance taking in the elegant drawing room — one of many rooms stripped of furniture for the ball. "I always look forward to the Benevolent Widows' balls." He glanced at Marianne and smiled. "The company is more congenial than at any other."

"We are much obliged to the duke and duchess," Grace said, "for opening Yarmouth House to us. We appreciate your attendance, my lord, and your generous contribution. We have collected a record amount this evening. It is most gratifying."

"You are to be commended on your efforts," he said, "to help those women less fortunate than yourselves."

"It is the least we can do," Grace said, "when considering our own circumstances. Though each of us knows the grief of losing a husband, none of us has suffered financially. But there are far too many who've lost husbands in the Peninsula and are left with nothing. It seemed not only a Christian but also a patriotic duty to offer what help we can. And to encourage others like you to do the same. You may be certain, my lord, that your contribution will go to a worthy cause."

"I have no doubt of it," he said.

"Now, if you will excuse me," Grace said, "I see a few late arrivals who must be welcomed."

Thank goodness. Marianne had feared Grace would launch into a lengthy sermon on the necessity of good works and drive Lord Hopwood away. His lordship bowed as she left, then turned to Marianne and lifted an interested brow.

"May I procure you something to drink, Mrs. Nesbitt? Or would you perhaps prefer to join the set in progress?"

"Oh, do let us join the dancing, if you please. I like nothing better than a lively Scotch reel."

"I am honored," he said, and offered his arm.

He danced quite well, which made Marianne recollect Wilhelmina's words. Lord Hopwood was a very attractive man. She wondered why she had failed to include him on her list. While they danced, she kept in mind the advice of her friends and did not make a deliberate effort to flirt. Instead she simply tried to be as pleasant and charming as possible. If the increased attentions of Lord Hopwood were any indication, it was a good tactic. He asked if he could call upon her the next day and take her driving in the park.

Her next three partners, Sir Arthur Denney, Sidney Gilchrist, and Trevor Fitzwilliam, were equally attentive. All were good dancers. Suddenly, the world seemed full of possibilities and Marianne had to rein in an almost giddy excitement.

Most of the gentlemen in attendance had been known to her for years. At some time or another, she had talked with them or danced with them, played cards with them or even dined with them. But never before had she been so conscious of them as men. Now almost every man she encountered might be considered as a potential lover, and that changed everything. Every word took on nuance, every glance seemed infused with new meaning, every dance step suggested more intimate moves. Had Society gatherings always been so sexually charged, and she'd simply been too naive to notice?

Mr. Fitzwilliam led her off the dance floor, bowed over her hand with florid words of appreciation, and took his leave. Marianne turned to find Adam approaching with Clarissa on his arm. She had caught a glimpse of them dancing in one of the other lines. A tiny pang of emotion — regret? wistfulness? inevitability? — gripped her heart for an instant at the sight of them together. She would have to become accustomed to it. From now on, she would be more likely to see Adam with Clarissa than without her.

She put on her best smile and held out her hand in welcome. "Adam, it is good to see you."

"Marianne." He took her hand and kissed it. Even through the fabric of her gloves she felt the heat of his lips. How very disconcerting to be so damnably aware of such things. How had she managed to be so insulated from sexual feelings all her life?

Adam relinquished her hand in order to bring Clarissa forward. "I believe you have met Miss Leighton-Blair."

"Yes, of course." She smiled at the girl, whose eyes held a mixture of triumph and nervousness. She was no doubt proud to be paraded about on the arm of her betrothed, eager to flaunt her good fortune to one and all. But she was also very young and very innocent, which tempered any pride with an appealing freshness. No wonder Adam wanted her. She really was quite lovely.

"I am so glad you came," Marianne said. "It gives me a chance to offer my best wishes on your betrothal."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nesbitt." Her voice was girlishly high and slightly breathy. "For your good wishes and for sending an invitation. The Benevolent Widows Fund balls are always much talked about. It is indeed a pleasure to have the opportunity to attend one."

"Your future husband is a good friend and neighbor to one of the trustees," Marianne said with a sly wink, "so you can be assured of invitations to all our balls from now on."