A Magnificent Match (2 page)

After a glance at the dresser, who was still rummaging through the jewelry boxes for the garnets, Megan asked, “What is it that you wished of me, Mother?”

“What did I wish you— Oh, yes! Dear Megan, I have had the most delightful communication. Let me see where I have put it. Ah! Here it is, stuck in the side of my mirror so that I should not forget it.” Lady O’Connell plucked the folded sheet from her mirror and waved the white paper languidly. “My dear friend Princess Elizaveta Kirov has written to me. You do remember her royal highness, do you not? She stayed with me briefly two years ago in London when you came for your first visit to a decent modiste.”

“Yes, I do recall the princess,” said Megan, nodding. She had a vague recollection of a strikingly handsome, very autocratic woman to whom she had been briefly introduced before being dismissed again into the hands of her companion. “Princess Kirov impressed me as a very grand lady.”

Lady O’Connell was pleased and her expression showed it. “Oh, I am glad that you took a liking to the princess, for it makes things all the more delightful. Megan, Princess Kirov has extended a gracious invitation to you to come to her in St. Petersburg. She assures me that she will see to it that you will be introduced to simply everyone and that you will have a wonderful time.”

“That is gracious of her highness, indeed. However, you had told me that this year I could make my London debut,” said Megan calmly. “I should like to do that, I think.”

Lady O’Connell frowned. She tapped the invitation on her chair arm. “I scarcely recall. But it makes little difference, after all. The London Season does not begin for months and months yet. You may very well fit in a trip to St. Petersburg before we must think about the Season.”

Megan knew that once again, as had happened for the past two years, her mother had sidestepped a commitment to bring her out in London. Lady O’Connell enjoyed a very active social life. She was extremely reluctant to interrupt her own pursuit of pleasure in order to take on the task of bringing out and shepherding a daughter through her first Season.

This invitation from Princess Kirov had come at a convenient time for Lady O’Connell. Her ladyship had developed a habit over the years of giving over the responsibility of her youngest daughter to others. Once Lady O’Connell had found a way to dispense with her maternal duties, she would conveniently forget Megan’s existence.

Megan knew the futility of argument. Lady O’Connell was not moved by anything but her own desires. The hope of a come-out in London receded farther and farther out of reach.

Megan was nineteen. Soon she would be considered to be on the shelf without ever having had the opportunity to see anything of the world except their own estate in Ireland and that little bit of England where her maternal relations resided. It was a pity, as Lady O’Connell had once remarked, that her aunt Leonora was bedridden or otherwise she could have enjoyed her aunt and uncle’s chaperonage for a Season by now.

Megan had once cherished hopes that her elder sister, Celeste, upon her marriage might sponsor her, but Celeste had never shown the least desire for anything other than acquiring a large family. As for her sister-in-law, Sophronia, Megan had quite decidedly turned down that lady’s once-issued lukewarm invitation to join her in a pilgrimage to Bath. Taking the waters and walking wheezy pugs was not Megan’s notion of enlarging her scope of experience.

On the spot, Megan decided to make the most of this particular opportunity. Half a loaf was better than none. If she was going to be shuffled off to Russia, she wanted to at least make something useful come of it. She had told her brother Colin that she was as ruthlessly selfish as any of the rest of the O’Connells and she felt that it was quite true. “I suppose that Princess Kirov has offered to bring me out into society?”

Lady O’Connell brightened considerably. “What a wonderful idea! Of course she shall, for Elizaveta is my dearest of friends and will do anything for me. I shall write a letter at once that she must do so and you may carry it to her. My dear Megan, nothing could be more fortuitous! St. Petersburg is famous for its cosmopolitan atmosphere. I have heard that the capital positively teems with bluebloods and well-connected diplomats. You will make your debut there and try your wings a little. And naturally you must make the most of your opportunities.” She smiled archly. “I would not be at all displeased if you were to form a suitable connection, Megan.”

“Nor I,” said Megan with a smile. She longed to be given the opportunity to see a little more of the world and to form friendships with others who might have interests that had nothing to do with horses and horse breeding. As for acquiring a husband, that was farther afield in her thoughts just now but certainly she was not completely adverse to the notion.

Lady O’Connell’s expression was softened by a degree of warmth. “I have always liked you, Megan, for you have never been a bit of trouble to me. So biddable, so even-tempered! I am fortunate that you are not a selfish, forward minx like so many of the daughters of my London friends.”

“Thank you. Mama,” said Megan, a little taken aback.

“I shall do my very best on your behalf, my dear Megan,” said Lady O’Connell, feeling expansive. “I shall particularly make known to Princess Kirov that she must act as my deputy on your behalf. Then you may be quite comfortable in consulting Princess Kirov regarding the eligibility of any offers that you might receive. There! Is that not handsome of me?”

“Indeed, ma’am. I do not know what to say. However, I am certain that Princess Kirov shall regard your confidence just as she ought,” said Megan dryly. “Pray convey my regards to Princess Kirov and my acceptance of her gracious invitation. I shall be most happy to join her in St. Petersburg once I have acquired a suitable wardrobe.”

Lady O’Connell looked taken aback. “A wardrobe?” she faltered. “But I do not think—”

“I could not possibly go to Princess Kirov otherwise, ma’am. Why, I have not been to a modiste in two years,” said Megan.

“But a new wardrobe,” said Lady O’Connell. She shook her head. “It is out of the question, Megan.”

“You would not wish the sophisticated gentlemen of St. Petersburg to stigmatize me as a dowd, Mother,” said Megan, gesturing down at her drab mud-splattered riding habit. “None of them would look at me twice unless I was tricked out in the very latest styles.”

Lady O’Connell looked unhappy. “No, of course not. Very well, then, I suppose that I must accompany you to a modiste. It is very inconvenient. I have several friends coming to stay in a few days.”

“I cannot conceive any reason why you should disrupt your own schedule for me, ma’am. Why do I not have Mrs. Tyler accompany me? She has quite good taste. You have said so yourself,” said Megan. “And since Colin is shortly to return to England, he may very well accompany me there.”

Lady O’Connell brightened. “The very thing! Of course! Colin can have no objection. And dear Mrs. Tyler, what a dear she is. She will know just what will be best. Yes, that is the very thing.”

“I will convey your wishes to Mrs. Tyler on the instant, as well as your insistence that she procure a few items for herself. I know that you will wish her to be well-provided for on the journey to Russia, as well,” said Megan. Her mind was working quickly as she tried to catalog everything that would be needed to accomplish such a long journey.

“Do I?” Lady O’Connell looked startled.

“I assumed, of course, that Mrs. Tyler would be accompanying me as a trusted chaperone on the journey. It would not be at all the thing for me to travel alone,” said Megan. “You have told me many times that I could not go up to London without someone trustworthy to keep me in hand. And Russia is a good deal farther away than London. Besides, I do not know what Mrs. Tyler would do with herself while I was gone. Perhaps she might make one of your retinue. But I do not think that is a happy solution.”

“No, nor do I,” said Lady O’Connell, with perfect truth. Her widowed cousin was completely suitable to be her daughter’s companion, but she was scarcely a valuable addition to one’s own entourage. “You are entirely correct, Megan. I entrust you completely to Mrs. Tyler’s capable hands. She will know just how to look after you on the journey to Russia and will be your guide in all things proper.” She beamed at her daughter. “I am glad that it is all perfectly settled. Now you must be off to tell Mrs. Tyler the good news.”

Lady O’Connell’s interest in the conversation was already waning, but Megan was not yet ready to be dismissed. She held her ground, determined to have all pertinent points settled. “Shall I have the modiste’s bills sent to you or to your man of business?”

Lady O’Connell had already turned away. Her dresser had located the heavy garnet necklace for her inspection and the subject was already exhausted as far as she was concerned. Without glancing around, Lady O’Connell waved her hand in a dismissing gesture. “Send them to Henry, of course. I do not care to have anything to do with them. He shall take care of whatever transactions you may have.”

“Very well, Mother.”

Megan curtseyed and left the bedroom. A smile curved her mouth. She was slightly ashamed of herself for pushing forward her own interests so blatantly. However, Megan soothed the twinge of her conscience with the reflection that once she had made the decision to make the most of Princess Kirov’s invitation, it was imperative that she gain all that she wanted at this single interview. Once the question of Megan’s going to Russia had been settled, Lady O’Connell would not give the matter another moment’s consideration.

Megan knew her mother well. Lady O’Connell concerned herself in her daughter’s affairs only when Megan became something of a distraction to her ladyship’s own pursuit of pleasure. Her ladyship would have sent Megan off to Russia willy-nilly, without giving a thought to wardrobe or funds or protection.

It was not that Lady O’Connell was particularly a cruel, cold woman. She was simply too vain and self-centered to want to be bothered with anything that did not have to do with herself. So Megan had herself put forward those things that she deemed important to her own well-being. If she did not, who would? And now she was going to tell her favorite person in the world of the treat in store for them.

With a growing sense of adventure and lively excitement, Megan went downstairs to find her mentor and friend, Mrs. Tyler. She found the trim widow in the parlor, engaged on a new embroidery design.

Mrs. Tyler was two-and-thirty. When she had been left a widow by an unfortunate road accident, she had discovered herself to be in uncomfortably straitened circumstances. It had been an unlooked-for blessing to have been accepted as Miss O’Connell’s companion and she was highly appreciative of her good fortune. Though her cousin, Lady O’Connell, preferred not to acknowledge her, the daughter had proven to be an easy and surprisingly amicable charge.

Shutting the door, Megan smiled across the room at her companion. “Gwyneth, I have just been told the most extraordinary thing by her ladyship. I am being sent to Russia to stay with my mother’s friend, Princess Kirov, in the capital of St. Petersburg. And you are to go with me.”

“Russia?” Mrs. Tyler dropped her embroidery to her lap. She looked at her charge in mingled amusement and dismay. “But isn’t that a very long way from Ireland?”

“Yes, indeed. Thousands upon thousands of miles,” said Megan cheerfully. “Only think of it, Gwyneth. The whole Russian empire at our feet. We’ll be the toasts of St. Petersburg. It will be a positively grand adventure.”

“I don’t know that I am the stuff of which an adventuress is made,” said Mrs. Tyler.

“Oh, Gwyneth, how can you say so?” asked Megan quizzingly. “You are forever reading the latest romances and you followed every word that was printed about the war and the diplomatic intricacies and you have wanted to travel for ages and ages.”

“Yes, that is as may be,” agreed Mrs. Tyler with a show of spirit. “But it scarcely follows that I wish to be whisked off to the ends of the earth.”

“Not to the ends of the earth, just to St. Petersburg,” said Megan, sitting down on the silk striped sofa next to the older woman. “Only think, Gwyneth! I shall be brought out into society in St. Petersburg by Princess Kirov and meet all sorts of exotic princes and fascinating people.”

“That is something, indeed,” said Mrs. Tyler, much struck. Better than anyone, she knew and understood Megan’s frustration at not being allowed the come-out that was a young miss’s introduction into polite society. “St. Petersburg is not London, of course. But I have heard very good things said about the Russian capital. Personages from all over the world visit St. Petersburg at one time or another.”

“You do see how good it will be for me,” said Megan. “I shall simply waste away another year unless I make the most of this opportunity.”

“Oh, yes, there is no denying that! It is past time that you were exposed to more society than is to be had here,” agreed Mrs. Tyler. She sighed. “I have always wished that you could have the opportunity to spread your wings. Indeed, I have spoken to her ladyship on more than one occasion on this very subject, but without success. I suspect that her ladyship hopes that you will be as accommodating as Celeste and bestow your hand on one of the local gentry before she is absolutely forced to do something for you.”

“I have no intention of running off with anyone,” said Megan. She was not at all shocked by her companion’s frank assessment of her situation. She and Mrs. Tyler were scarcely a dozen years apart in age and had formed a friendship that went far beyond that of mistress and companion. Mrs. Tyler had never pretended ignorance of the cold atmosphere in the O’Connell house, nor tacitly condoned it by downplaying a young girl’s hurt. In addition, Megan and Mrs. Tyler were much alike in temperament and spirit, so that sharing of interests and confidences came easily.

“I should hope not, indeed! I trust that you will show a bit more sense,” said Mrs. Tyler. She took up her embroidery again and set a stitch. “I must be fair to Celeste, however. She had little hope of contracting a marriage in the usual way and she knew it. It is something to be thankful for that Patrick Kennehessey turned out to be such a doting husband and father. Most such marriages are generally unhappy affairs.”