A Proper Companion (5 page)

"Oh, no, my lord, I am not so missish as that,"
Emily said, smiling broadly as she became caught up in his mirth.
"I find your grandmother's friends thoroughly entertaining. I
particularly like Sir Percy Whittaker, who will be joining us
tonight for dinner."

"Sir Percy? Is he still hanging around Bath? I
suspect you must know of his alter ego?"

"Penelope Manning? Oh, yes. In fact, I must admit to
having read a few of Miss Manning's novels in the past. I was quite
shocked to discover that the romantic Miss Manning was in truth the
rather gruff Sir Percy."

"I must say, you don't strike me as the gothic
romance type, Miss Townsend," he said. "All those dungeons and
abductions and the like. You appear to be quite a sensible young
woman, with feet planted firmly on the ground," the earl said with
a slight raising of his brows.

"Oh, I am indeed quite sensible, my lord," Emily
said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But we all have our
moments of weakness." Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and
then both laughed aloud.

The dowager entered the drawing room at that moment,
resplendent in lavender and silver, with Charlemagne trailing close
behind. At the sound of laughter, Charlemagne felt obliged to join
in with raucous barking.

"
Cela suffit! Tais-toi, chien
," the dowager scolded.
The pug immediately
ceased barking and returned obediently to her side. "Well," she
said, smiling, "I am glad to see you two young people enjoying
yourselves. Is not Emily a dear, Robert? I don't know how I ever
got on without her."

Robert smiled and raised his glass to Emily in
salute.

* * *

They were soon joined by Major and Mrs. Chenowith,
an elderly couple who were each every bit as gregarious as the
dowager. Like the dowager, the Chenowiths were year-long residents
of Bath and therefore frequent visitors to Laura Place.

Mrs. Chenowith and Lady Bradleigh immediately put
their turbaned heads together in discussion of some local
on-dit
, while the major lost no time in engaging Robert in
close conversation. He was particularly anxious for news from
London regarding last week's assassination of the Prime Minister.
As Robert took his responsibilities in the House of Lords quite
seriously, despite his rather roguish reputation, he was able to
enlighten the major regarding the latest concerns as to what the
Regent might do about appointing a new Prime Minister. As a
dedicated Tory, the major was encouraged to learn that the Regent
appeared to be turning his back on his Whig cronies and leaning
toward maintaining a proper Tory government.

Although the major expressed no particular surprise,
Robert was quite astonished to hear Miss Townsend join in the
conversation with some obvious knowledge of the political
situation. Most young women he knew read no further than the social
pages of the newspapers. In fact, many were not
allowed
to
read any further, as a protection against feminine sensibilities.
Yet here was a young woman who obviously read the political news of
the day with some regularity. Of course, a woman of Miss Townsend's
station in life would not be faced with the normal distractions of
fashion and Town gossip. Robert responded politely to her questions
regarding the assassin's trial at the Old Bailey, which had been in
progress when he had left Town. She also asked his opinion of Lord
Liverpool and the implications of his possible appointment by the
Regent. Robert was further confounded by this intriguing woman to
recognize subtle Whig tendencies in her comments. The mystery of
Miss Townsend deepened.

Robert was unable to probe this mystery any further
as Sir Percy Whittaker and Lord Hargreaves were announced. Both
gentlemen were longtime acquaintances of the dowager and loyal
members of her Bath coterie. Each made a beeline to her side to pay
his compliments. Lord Hargreaves was first on the spot, offering
the dowager a brief salute on each cheek. She spoke a few fond
words to the handsome silver-haired viscount before she turned to
greet her other guest.

Sir Percy, a short, stocky gentleman with longish
gray hair and gold-rimmed spectacles, reached for the dowager's
outstretched hand, which he brought to his lips. "Frances, my
dear," he said, "it is, as always, a pleasure. You look quite smart
this evening." The dowager nodded in acknowledgment of his
compliment. Turning to Miss Townsend, he grasped that lady's hand
as well, also bringing it to his lips. "Emily, my girl. I look
forward to another delightful evening of your scintillating
conversation."

Miss Townsend smiled at the older man, who, Robert
couldn't help but notice, held her hand a little longer than was
absolutely proper. He then turned to Robert, bowing crisply. "Lord
Bradleigh. What a pleasant surprise to find you in Bath once again.
It has been some time since we last met."

More pleasantries were exchanged while sherry was
passed around. When dinner was announced, Robert offered his arm to
his grandmother, Lord Hargreaves escorted Mrs. Chenowith, and Sir
Percy escorted Emily. This left Major Chenowith unpartnered, and
although he seemed unconcerned, the dowager was obviously
uncomfortable, as she found uneven numbers extremely vulgar.

Anatole's delicacies were enhanced by the lively
conversation and witty repartee of all diners, made easier by the
unusual round table. Dining in this intimate setting precluded
adherence to the standard dining room proprieties. It was almost
impossible to limit conversation to the person at one's side.
Indeed, there was much general conversation across table. Robert
noted that Miss Townsend, though soft-spoken and polite, was
actively included in most conversations. He particularly noted that
Sir Percy, whom he had known for years as one of his grandmother's
ubiquitous swains, appeared on this evening to have more interest
in Miss Townsend. The normally inscrutable baronet was positively
oozing warmth as he conversed with her. Had this aging
roué
developed a
tendre
for his grandmother's companion? Poor
Miss Townsend, he thought. He kept an eye open for hints that Miss
Townsend had also set her cap for the older man, but he saw nothing
more than friendly civility and restrained amusement.

Sir Percy shot Robert a look at one point that made
it clear he was aware of Robert's scrutiny.

After dinner the gentlemen immediately joined the
ladies in the drawing room, foregoing their usual port at the
insistence of the dowager. She deplored the standard practice of
postprandial segregation and refused to sanction it in her own
home. She felt that the ladies should not have to be deprived of
the gentlemen's company, just so the gentlemen might drink port,
smoke cigars, and tell bawdy stories. She saw no reason why they
could not share these activities with the ladies.

Robert lagged behind a bit and waited to see how the
other six would arrange themselves about the room. He accepted a
glass of port from Barnes and casually roamed the room, surveying
the others. The dowager claimed her favorite fauteuil near the
fireplace, while Charlemagne claimed her lap. Lord Hargreaves took
an adjacent chair while the Chenowiths sat together on a small
needlepoint settee. Sir Percy led Emily to the other side of the
room, where he took a chair opposite her.

Finally, in response to his curiosity and amusement
at Sir Percy's possessive attentions toward his grandmother's
companion, Robert boldly intruded on what appeared to be a private
conversation by deliberately parking himself on the delicate
painted sofa, next to Miss Townsend. He pretended not to notice Sir
Percy's eyes narrow momentarily as he insinuated himself into their
conversation. As their discussion turned to the impending removal
to London, Sir Percy became visibly agitated. He was apparently
most upset that the Laura Place ladies, and in particular Miss
Townsend, were to leave Bath. Sir Percy caught Robert's puzzled
frown and chuckled.

"My lord," Sir Percy said with a twinkle of
amusement in his eyes, "I sense your curiosity. So that you may not
get the wrong impression, I now will let you in on a secret that
you must swear never to reveal, as it would be most lowering to my
reputation."

Robert's brows rose in question. "I am all agog with
suspense, Sir Percy. Pray, put me out of my misery."

"Well, you see," Sir Percy continued in a
conspiratorial voice, "Miss Townsend has been assisting me with my
latest literary endeavor. After so many years of penning the usual
gothic drivel, I found myself quite dried up. The old upper works
completely bereft of new ideas. Then one day while having tea in
Laura Place with a few dozen of your grandmother's closest friends,
Miss Townsend took pity on me and rescued me from a numbing
conversation with a certain turbaned dragon who claimed to be
Penelope Manning's greatest fan. Normally I go to great lengths to
divorce myself from my literary alter ego, but somehow this harpy
had unmasked my identity. Miss Townsend recognized my distress and
deftly swept the dragon away. When Miss Townsend then took over the
dragon's seat, it marked the beginning of a delightful friendship."
He gazed fondly at Emily. "I happily discovered that we are
somewhat kindred spirits, that Emily is something of a
bluestocking."

Robert turned to look at Miss Townsend with
questioning brows. She smiled shyly at him and shrugged with
resignation.

"Ah, my dear Emily," Sir Percy said, obviously
sensing Miss Townsend's discomfort, "you must not reject the label
of bluestocking. How much more intriguing is the educated woman
with wit and intelligence as compared to the usual insipid misses
one meets in Society, with no conversation and little sense. Is
that not so, my lord?" Sir Percy asked.

"Without question," Robert said, grinning at Miss
Townsend. This woman continued to intrigue him.

"English society is quite backward in this
particular area," Sir Percy said. "In France they appreciate a
clever woman, as your grandmother knows well, Lord Bradleigh. In
Paris, before the days of this upstart Corsican, Frances and Emily
would no doubt have set up a grand salon and held court to the
intelligentsia. Instead they are stuck here in Bath with a bunch of
old eccentrics like me." He sighed.

"And yet," he continued more cheerfully, "it is my
great fortune that they
are
here." He gazed fondly across
the room at the dowager, who was in animated conversation with Lord
Hargreaves and the Chenowiths. "My dear Frances has often acted as
my inspiration and my muse as she regales me with stories of her
youth. Such a life she has led!" He smiled over at the dowager, who
looked up and smiled flirtatiously in return. "I can only write of
such adventures, having lived a rather quiet life myself. And now I
have the muse of Emily as well."

"Don't tell me that you are a notorious adventuress,
Miss Townsend?" Robert asked, eyes wide with feigned
astonishment.

"Hardly, my lord," she said, laughing. "I, too, as
you must know, have led a very quiet life."

"A quiet life cannot contain an active, agile
brain," Sir Percy said. "Emily has been invaluable to me in
suggesting story lines, plot twists, characters, dialogue, and
such. Her ideas have quite revitalized my writing. My publisher has
been most pleased with the early chapters." He nodded his thanks to
Miss Townsend, who nodded in return. "Do you think, my dear, that I
might impose so much as to send you the drafts of the later
chapters while you are in London? I would so appreciate your
continued advice."

"Of course, Sir Percy," Miss Townsend said. "I would
be happy to read them. But I doubt that you really need my
advice."

"I welcome it, nonetheless," Sir Percy said as he
rose to leave. He went to the dowager's side, offering her a chaste
kiss on the cheek. He then turned back to Emily, took her hand, and
brought it to his lips. "I trust we can have a few more visits
together before your departure, my dear?" he asked.

"Of course, Sir Percy."

"I shall look forward to it," he crooned.

As the baronet departed, Robert turned to Miss
Townsend and said in an undertone, "I see my grandmother is not the
only one with doting admirers."

Emily scowled at him in mock distress.

The next morning found the dowager's household in a
flurry of activity. The removal to London was to be a major
undertaking, since the dowager insisted on taking with her every
item or person necessary to her comfort. Emily frequently found
herself with one of the dowager's many lists, checking off things
to be done or made or purchased or packed prior to leaving
Bath.

Emily had somehow become in charge of the entire
operation, and although the household staff was under the direct
supervision of either Mrs. Dougherty or Barnes, everyone cooperated
without complaint to Emily's requests. Emily found great pleasure
in the kindness shown to her by the dowager's staff, something she
had not always experienced in the other households in which she had
been employed.

She supposed the staff expected someone in her
position within the household hierarchy to put on airs, to avoid
association with the lower servants completely. Such behavior was
common enough for those staff members with a special exalted
status— like Anatole, the chef, or Tuttle, the dowager's dresser.
Emily, however, found her life was made easier by treating all
members of the staff with the same level of courtesy. She knew that
only by such behavior was she able to rely on their full
cooperation on major undertakings like the removal to London.

She would have been aghast to know of the specious
rumors circulating belowstairs regarding her background.