“No, nothing,” replied Lucy. She glanced towards the proscenium, but nothing was happening yet. “No, I don’t think there’s anything like it in the world.” Miss Pulteney agreed complacently. “Do you have supper afterwards?”
“We hadn’t made any plans,” said Mrs. Carmichael, much to Lucy’s dismay.
“Then shall we make up a party? There’s a neat little set of supper rooms close by - perfectly respectable.”
It was agreed upon, and then, at last, the show began.
Lucy lost herself and her troubles in childish wonder at what passed before her eyes. Horses performed magnificent tricks and danced to music; the little dogs made her laugh, and the clowns and their acrobatics amused her mightily. She didn’t notice Philip watching her, taking pleasure from her amusement.
She was terrified when the tightrope walkers performed high above her head, and clutched Rodney’s arm in sympathetic support for the acrobats balanced precariously above them. She was so enthralled she didn’t notice it wasn’t Philip until he winced and she had to look away and apologise to him. The look of delight on her face completely reconciled Rodney to her too-tight pinch, and he smiled back at her.
When the show ended Lucy applauded as wildly as everyone else, and laughed in her joy. She had rarely enjoyed herself so much, or taken such little notice of her surroundings. Her companions took a great deal of their pleasure from her enjoyment of something she so evidently had never seen before. Philip, smiling, looked away for a moment, and then hastily turned his head back towards Janet, hoping Lady Derby hadn’t seen him. She would be bound to demand an acknowledgement, if she saw him - or worse - Lucy.
Offering his arm to Janet, he stood up with most of the people around him, and moved into the centre of the crowd of people all heading for the nearest exit. The Pulteneys were calling and speaking loudly enough for everyone. “Not as good as last time, but very good.” cried one, to be followed by; “I think I like the monkeys best.”
Discussing the show, they made their way out of the theatre.
Janet clutched Philip’s arm so possessively he didn’t have a chance for a quiet word with Lucy, but Lady Derby seemed to have gone now. The supper rooms being declared near by, they decided to walk.
Lucy found Rodney to be a kind and attentive escort. She hoped they could remain friends when she was forced to tell them who she really was, but somehow she doubted it. These people were very kind, and they might not appreciate the deception she was perpetrating on them. With a guilty pang, she knew they were right, but she also didn’t know what else she could have done. Other than marry Geoffrey.
The supper rooms proved to be comfortable, respectable, and not at all fashionable. Lucy relaxed, and enjoyed the company.
It was astonishing to her to see the depths of vulgarity uneducated people with some money could achieve, but after her first shock, she began to appreciate it. Looking at the expensive profusion of the elder Miss Pulteney’s attire, suddenly it occurred to her; “Why not?” It obviously gave the lady pleasure to flaunt her wealth in this way.
On the other hand, she found their manners a little wanting. Some of their questions, far more intrusive than the questions of the
Carmichaels
, made her wince. Some she found amusing.
“Miss Moore, have you ever been to Court?” asked one.
“Well,” Lucy said carefully, trying not to tell any actual untruths, “I’m not from the most senior part of the family, you know. There are lots of
Moores
, we’re a prolific family.”
“Oh yes, but I wondered if you had attended it since you’ve been in
London
.”
“No, I’ve barely been here two weeks.” Lucy protested.
“Don’t you get an invitation because you are a
Moore
?”
“Oh no,” she said, “You have to be more than that.”
“Oh,” said the girl in obvious disappointment. “I could take you to see St. James’ Palace one day, if you wanted.”
Lucy thanked her for her kindness, but left the invitation open. “I’m very interested in the other sights,” she told them. “I’ve never seen anything like Astley’s before, and I loved the shops.”
“Yes, I do believe the shops are the best anywhere.” said the girl. “And if you know where to shop - such bargains. Look what I got.” fishing at the pendants dangling into her décolletage, she selected one and showed Lucy a locket, which opened on a blank space. “I’m going to put a picture of my sweetheart in it - but I haven’t got a sweetheart yet.”
They laughed together, and then the girl glanced over at Philip, sitting at the other side of the table talking to Mrs. Carmichael, Janet limpetted to his side. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Now Lord Royston would be a catch for anyone - not only an earl and fortune, but so good looking with it.” She paused for effect. Lucy didn’t disagree and showed her a smiling face, wondering what else this astonishing girl would say. “But this is the first time I’ve actually met him. I thought the
Carmichaels
were making him up, but here he is, as large as life and twice as handsome.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you like him?”
“Yes,” Lucy whispered back. Her eyes twinkled in amusement, and she and Miss Putney exchanged a conspiratorial grin. “But he won’t look at us,” Miss Pulteney continued. “He knows what he has to do. And I don’t think he likes any of us above the usual.” She glanced at Janet, attending assiduously to whatever Philip was saying. “But we can flirt and talk, and if Janet Carmichael ever leaves him alone I can say I’ve talked with an earl. That should stir ‘em up at my next dancing class.”
“You still go to dancing classes?”
The girl leaned back now they weren’t discussing people present. “Ma says I have two left feet,” she confessed. “I’ve been going to the dancing master since I was seven years old, and I don’t think I’m any better. I told her not to waste her money but she insists I have to learn to dance with some grace.” She picked up her glass of champagne and took an appreciative sip, twirling the sparkling cut glass in her fingers. “I say there are other things I can be doing when people are dancing.” The wink she gave Lucy almost overset her. She choked on her own drink and went quite pink. Philip glanced over at her, concern in his gaze, but smiled when he saw there was no cause for alarm. Appreciative of his care for her, she smiled back at him. Mrs. Carmichael looked at her sharply, so she looked away. Perhaps Philip was marked on her card for her daughter, after all, and her questions earlier had been to see if Lucy and Philip were promised in any way. She must have wondered when Lucy arrived alone, with only Philip as escort.
Without waiting to be served, Miss Pulteney took the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and refilled their glasses. Lucy looked at the gesture but said nothing, because she was enjoying herself too much. She could have depressed these people’s pretensions using methods she had seen her mother use to devastating and crushing effect, but she didn’t want to. She liked them, especially the eldest Miss Pulteney who knew her own vulgarity and without revelling in it, accepted it.
“You’re genteel aren’t you?” Miss Annabelle asked frankly. “A girl of good family with little money. A lot of your kind end up as governesses, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Lucy agreed. She had seen it herself. Not something she would want. “But I have a respectable dowry, so I shouldn’t come to that.” She smiled when she thought of the value of her dowry, but felt a little guilty when she reflected it had been an accident of birth which had given it to her.
“Good. It must be a dreadful life. Not a servant, not one of the family and nothing to look forward to.” Miss Pulteney paused and sipped her drink. “You know, if we drink any more of this, we’ll be quite befuddled. Shall we?”
Rodney lifted his hand for the waiter to bring another bottle.
Lucy opened her eyes and groaned. Not her first alcohol induced headache, but decidedly her worst. She put her head under the pillow to avoid the light and thought back through the previous evening. Why had Philip not stopped her? True, he had spent the whole of the evening with the possessive Janet but he could have stopped her, surely.
He had watched her to make sure she didn’t commit any faux pas, but she didn’t think she had said anything to betray herself. She remembered vaguely he’d had a word with Rodney when he parted with them, but couldn’t remember what was said.
She had laughed far too loud, forgotten all her posture lessons, and generally enjoyed herself, but she didn’t think she had done anything wrong.
She heard the click of the door and blinked at Potter, coming in with a can of hot water for her wash. “Ohhhhh” she managed. She closed her mouth, wet her lips and tried again. “Tea?”
“I have some waiting for you ma’am,” the maid said, and left the room, returning with a tray with tea and bread and butter. Lucy eyed the food doubtfully and decided to leave it alone, but when she had struggled to a sitting position, took the tea cup gratefully. “I was drunk, wasn’t I?” she said.
“Decidedly so, ma’am,” replied the maid. “But his lordship was there to look after you, so I don’t suppose anything too bad came of it.”
“No, but I met some funny people.” she said, remembering. The memory came back to her in little scenes, like a play. “And I enjoyed Astley’s enormously.”
“His lordship has asked me to remind you of your appointment this afternoon,” said Potter. She moved around the room, getting Lucy’s clothes ready, her hands constantly busy.
“Appointment?”
“He said you wouldn’t remember, ma’am,” Potter said smugly. “You are to go and see Mr. Chumleigh this afternoon. His lordship is putting it about that it’s an errand for your Scottish mother, one she couldn’t do because she had to go home, but I think it might be about something else.”
Lucy took a deep draught of hot tea. She found if she kept still the headache was bearable. “There are a lot of things to sort out. I’m twenty five in two months’ time, so Mr. Chumleigh might want to see me about that. I’ll have complete control of my fortune then. My Mama said I was too young for it,” she continued. “The real one, I mean.”
Potter looked at her directly. “Are you feeling quite the thing, ma’am?”
“No,” she confessed. “I have a headache, and my stomach hurts.”
“I’ll find you something for the headache,” the maid said, “And the rest will pass off in a few hours.” She sounded as if she knew.
“Yes,” said Lucy. “I certainly hope so because I’ll need a clear head later.”
***
Lucy rested that day, choosing a book to read, and by the time Philip came for her at two, she was quite restored to her normal self. Mrs. Carmichael had insisted she take someone with her for propriety’s sake, and Janet had quickly volunteered, so they both sat in the small parlour and waited for him, dressed in their outdoor clothes.
He arrived promptly, in his own carriage for a change, a smart equipage with the Royston crest on the door. Lucy thought the crest looked better without the widow’s lozenge. Janet waved to him from the window, and he nodded in response before entering the front door.
When he came into the room, he looked straight at Lucy. “Feeling better, Miss Moore?” he asked, his tones enriched with amusement.
“Perfectly, thank you sir,” she answered primly. “I’m just not used to that quantity of champagne. But my headache has completely gone now.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, and turned to Miss Carmichael. “Are you to come with us, ma’am?” His tones were now carefully devoid of expression, so Lucy knew he wasn’t pleased.
“My Mama says someone must,” Janet answered.
“She takes very good care of me,” Lucy said, coming forward to take him by the arm, before Janet could take possession again.
They went out to the carriage and Janet delightedly plumped up the seat. Lucy sat away from the window and was glad of her poke bonnet. “Do you travel everywhere in such style?” Janet asked.
“Well, I am expected to,” said Royston apologetically. His hand lay inches away from Lucy’s own and she longed to take it, but dared not.
The stairs were put up, the door slammed and they were away.
They could have walked to Mr. Chumleigh’s office, but it was pleasant not to have to. Despite her assurances to Philip, Lucy still felt a little shaky, but she knew if she told him, he might tease her more than she wanted him to when he had the chance. Being in love, letting someone in to that extent made her more vulnerable than she had ever been, but it was a risk she didn’t mind taking.
They left
Red Lion Square
and travelled down into the City and through several winding streets until they came to the office. “You could ride round in the carriage if you wanted to,” Philip told Janet. “Our business is boring and protracted. Miss Moore will be perfectly safe here.”
Despite the temptation of circulating the fashionable streets in Philip’s town carriage, Janet refused to take the bait. She came into the office with Philip and Lucy. The limp young man was there again, sitting behind his large, sloping desk, but he came out from behind it and bowed. “My lord, my lady,” he said.
Lucy closed her eyes in horror for a moment, and hoped Janet hadn’t noticed. “If you would care to come this way Mr. Chumleigh is expecting you,” the young man continued.