An Affair of Honor (7 page)

Sitting up, Nell stretched and pulled off her cap, pushing the resultant tumble of curls back over her shoulders as the maid plumped pillows behind her.

“Open a window, Mary. ’Tis a lovely day.”

“You’ll catch your death, Miss Nell.” But, moving obediently to do her mistress’s bidding, Mary did not speak as if she entertained any expectation of her words being heeded. Nell grinned at her stiff back.

“Hundreds of people come to Brighton every year for the sole purpose of breathing our wonderful air, Mary.”

“Be that as it may, Miss Nell, that air is damp, and you know quite as well as anyone that damp air carries ague and a plague of other nasty things. Windows was meant to be shut.”

Nell chuckled. “Is Lady Aurora awake yet?”

“Dunno, I’m sure, miss,” Mary replied, adjusting the sash to admit as little as possible of the gentle sea breeze. “That maid of ’ers be a saucy piece o’ goods, ’n all. Said ’er ladyship preferred ’er own people about ’er, ’n would I be so good as to leave the chocolate on the landing side table fer ’er to take in when ’er mistress be ready. I never saw the like afore, Miss Nell, ’n that’s God’s own truth, that is.”

“Oh dear.” Nell regarded the chambermaid with dismay. Mary had been with the family quite as long as either Cook or Pavingham, which was to say since before Nell herself had joined the Lindale household. When Nell was old enough to make her come-out, it had been suggested that Mary might well serve as her tirewoman. But Mary herself had declined the honor, saying that she knew her place well enough, thank you, and Miss Nell deserved the best, which in Mary’s opinion meant a proper dresser. She had therefore greeted Madge’s arrival in the household with her fullest approval. But, whether she knew her place or not, she took full advantage—often—of the fact that she had known her mistress from the cradle, and Nell knew that if she was to have any peace at all, she must soothe Mary’s obviously ruffled feelings at once. “Was she rude to you, Mary?”

“Not to say rude exactly, Miss Nell.” The maidservant was already coming down from the boughs. “She’s just a bit full of ’erself, is all. I’ll warrant ’er young lady spoils ’er a mite.”

“Well, I shall speak to the Lady Aurora, if you like,” Nell said pacifically. “I daresay young Sadie has taken a bit more upon herself than her mistress has any notion of.” Her eyes twinkled suddenly. “’Twould doubtless serve her well and good if you were to
allow
her to do everything for her mistress.”

Mary grinned, catching her meaning at once. “It would at that, Miss Nell. I daresay we’d soon ’ave that wench begging fer mercy if she was to find ’erself ’auling water and wood up them narrow back stairs. Laying fires, changing the bed … ah, ’tis a beautiful vision I’m enjoying just now, Miss Nell.”

“I see that I can safely leave the problem in your capable hands, Mary. I rely upon you to see that she does not complain of ill treatment to her mistress, however. I’d as lief not have the business dropped back in my lap, if it is all the same to you.”

Mary laid the chocolate tray gently across her mistress’s lap. “Never you fret, Miss Nell. I can deal with that baggage if anyone can. Just you leave ’er to me. Shall I be sending Madge up when I go downstairs?”

“If you please,” Nell agreed. “Tell her I shall want her in twenty minutes. Until then, I mean to enjoy the peace and quiet. I daresay the time will come that I shall look back upon these unencumbered moments with great longing.”

Mary rolled her eyes heavenward. “Like that, is it, miss?”

“I’m afraid so, Mary. Indeed, I am very much afraid so.”

Shaking her head in sympathy, Mary departed, leaving her mistress to relax against her pillows, savoring the sweet hot chocolate. What on earth, Nell wondered, watching steam rise from the cup in her hands, had she let herself in for? Any young woman who could mention Philip Radford in the same breath as a groom who would fail to bring an acceptable aura to her mama’s drawing room would bear watching. A good deal of watching.

Not common soldiers, Aunt Nell, but there are officers as well, are there not?

Nell shuddered at the encroaching memory, devoutly praying that Rory had indeed been speaking in jest. What lurking devil had spurred her to mention the Downs at all? Was it not only natural that the one word should lead an impressionable young girl’s thoughts directly to the military?

After all, Brighton Camp was by far the most famous military encampment along the South Coast. For some ten years and more, parades, grand reviews, field days, and sham battles on the Downs had been part and parcel of each succeeding Season’s delights. The resident townspeople had come to regard them as entertainments got up expressly for their benefit, rather than for the serious purpose of military training, and they turned out right along with their summer visitors on these occasions in every sort of conveyance. Barouches, landaus, landaulets, sociables, curricles, tandems, and even fish carts—all were crammed with spectators and loaded with provisions for a merry day’s outing on the Downs. It was not always possible, however, for these entertainments to be conducted with strictest military discipline and decorum. As the result of any number of unfortunate incidents over the years, Brighton fathers consistently discouraged their daughters from associating with the military.

The Prince’s Own was indeed stationed on the Downs, just as Rory said, and that glorious Hussar regiment was easily the most popular in the Army among fashionable young men. Almost every one of the officers was a personal friend of the Prince of Wales, and even the famous Beau Brummell once numbered among them. They kept their own blood horses, their own swift curricles, and even—some said—their own dashing ladies. Their military duties being by no means arduous, they had plenty of time to join in the social activities of the
beau monde
, so nearly every young woman who came to Brighton dreamed of being escorted by a smart young cavalry officer in a dazzling scarlet or blue uniform. And since the assemblies at both the Castle Inn and the Old Ship were extremely popular with those young officers who were privileged to receive invitations, Nell had no doubt that her beautiful young niece expected to have her pick of the lot.

An image of Lord Huntley suddenly flitted across her mind, and Nell drew a long breath. How on earth was she to guard his intended wife for him? For she had no doubt from what she remembered of him that he would expect her to do exactly that. It did not matter that Clarissa and Crossways undoubtedly expected the same thing. They had shirked their own duty by casting the office onto her inadequate shoulders. Let them reap what they had sown. But Huntley was a different case entirely. He had had little choice in the matter and must therefore place his dependence upon Nell. Of course, he would no doubt be willing to help her. The thought let her relax again. Surely, he could be depended upon to protect Rory from herself. It would be simply a question of keeping her well enough occupied so that she would have little time to get into mischief. Nell smiled at the thought that she had previously worried about the difficulty of finding suitable young men to interest her niece. Now she found herself hoping they would be in short supply.

She was not given much more time to ponder her difficulties, for Madge soon entered and began to lay out her clothes. Less than an hour later Nell entered the breakfast parlor neatly attired in a walking dress of russet sarcenet with a striped tunic and kid boots. Her mother and brother sat at the table, the latter rising to greet her entrance, then seating himself quickly in order to reapply his attention to his high-piled plate. Nell regarded the cup of tea that occupied, in solitary splendor, the space before Lady Agnes.

“Not feeling quite the thing this morning, Mama?”

“Oh, I’m perfectly stout, dear.” Lady Agnes smiled wryly. “Indeed, I am a trifle too stout. In no time at all I am persuaded I shall be quite as fat as Clarissa, for Millicent has had to let out three of my new gowns. I thought perhaps I might have a little dry toast if the tea does not satisfy my hunger sufficiently.”

“Nonsense, Mama, you will never be fat, and you must eat something more substantial than that. Fasting cannot be good for you. You will make yourself ill.”

“Well, you know I always have a glass of wine and a biscuit at midday, Nell. I daresay I shall do well enough. And only think of the money Cook can save if I don’t eat so much.”

“I think it would be wiser simply to ask Cook to return to plain fare for a time and to forget the rich sauces you enjoy so frequently. I am persuaded ’twould do you far more good than starving yourself, ma’am.”

“Oh, Nell, we could not do that. Why, whatever would that young French kitchenmaid find to do if Cook ceased to require her lovely sauces? You know we hired her particularly for the purpose.”

“Aimée is grateful to have a position, Mama. After the dreadful ordeal of escaping from her homeland to a strange shore with two tiny children in hand, she would scrub floors and still be happy.”

“But her family is a noble one,” protested Lady Agnes. “It seemed somehow almost suitable when she was merely providing us the benefit of her exquisite sauces. But to ask her to scrub floors … no, no, Nell. I couldn’t.”

Nell chuckled. “I never said you should, ma’am. I merely said she would not refuse. Our family is also a noble one. You, after all, are the daughter of a marquess, are you not?”

“You know I am, dearest,” her ladyship replied complacently, “and whatever anyone might say, I did not marry beneath myself when I married your dear papa. His birth was respectable and his fortune made him perfectly eligible. But what has that to say to anything?”

“Merely, that if circumstances required it of you, I have no doubt that you would have scrubbed floors in order to keep your children from starving after Papa died.”

Lady Agnes looked doubtful. “I shall not dispute your word, of course, my dear. But I confess I am most grateful that I was never put to such a test.”

“I am also grateful to have been wellborn, Mama, and in a civilized country where people do not cut off one’s head merely because one chances to be well off. But Aimée and her babies are safe now, and if Cook were to ask her to help with mere plain cooking, she would not object. Now, do let me help you to some of this ham. I am persuaded that you will enjoy it.”

Lady Agnes agreed that perhaps a small morsel of ham, a bit of cheese, and perhaps even a very small chunk of bread thinly spread with butter would not cause her to burst the seams of her lovely lavender morning gown. Liberally following her directions, Nell soon placed a plate before her and set another for herself.

“Where is her ladyship this morning?” Kit inquired, sitting back in his chair and nodding when Jeremy asked if anyone would care for more hot tea.

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” Nell replied. “I believe she will be down when she is dressed. We are going to Donaldson’s this morning.”

He shook his head. “You will have your hands full, Nell.”

“Don’t be nonsensical. She is already betrothed. It is merely a matter of making her known to the
beau monde.
Rory will behave with propriety, my dear. It would please me, by and bye, if you would not provoke her.”

“I? Provoke
her
? Seems to me the boot was on the other foot last night.”

“You were scarcely conciliating, Kit.”

“See here, Nell, if you mean to begin the day by reading me a lecture.”

“I mean no such thing, Kit, and I apologize if it sounded like that.” She smiled coaxingly. “What are your plans for the day?”

He shrugged. “I expect Harry and I will think of something.”

“I cannot conceive why you should wish to spend so much of your time with Harry Seton,” Lady Agnes said, narrowing her eyes. “I am persuaded that neither your papa nor Sir Henry would approve of the association. Mr. Seton appears to me to be the sort of young man who would sit in a window with his telescope trained on the ladies’ bathing machines.”

A slight flush on her brother’s cheeks informed Nell that this pastime was not altogether unfamiliar to him, and she judged it time to intervene in the conversation. “Mr. Seton has been a good friend to Kit, Mama. You know he has. I expect they will join the rest of the world in a stroll on the Steyne. Will you not, Kit?”

He smiled at her gratefully. “I expect so. Will you both excuse me now?”

“What, not leaving on my account, are you, Uncle Kit?”

Rory stood in the doorway, a vision in narrow turquoise-and-pink stripes. Her lovely hair was bound with fillets, à la Greque, and her slimly tailored walking dress showed her trim figure to advantage. She grinned at her uncle, already half out of his chair.

Kit straightened. “Good morning. I trust you slept well.”

Nell hid a smile. Clearly, her brother was determined not to be drawn. Rory stepped forward to inspect the dishes laid out for breakfast “I slept very well, thank you. Good morning, Grandmama, Aunt Nell. Are there any sausages? I adore sausages.”

“Under the silver cover on the left,” Kit directed. “Good day to you, ladies. I’m off.”

“I hope I didn’t scare him away,” Rory said sweetly as she took her place.

“Don’t be absurd, child,” Lady Agnes said with a warm smile. “Gentlemen are always in a rush to begin the day, don’t you know.”

Rory returned the smile and brought her plate to the table, declining Jeremy’s offer of tea and requesting chocolate instead. “Shall we go to Donaldson’s directly after breakfast, Aunt Nell?”

Nell nodded, her mouth full of Yorkshire ham.

“’Tis a fascinating place, Donaldson’s,” offered Lady Agnes. “I purchase my paints there.”

“Goodness! Do you paint, Grandmama?”

“Mama paints elegant little things on velvet and satin,” Nell told her.

“How clever of you! Is it very difficult?”

“Well, not if one finds the proper paints,” Lady Agnes explained. “So many of the dyes are quite wrong and will run or bleed or simply fade away. That is why I go to Donaldson’s. Their supplies are always to be relied upon.”

Once breakfast was over, Nell and Rory collected their hats and gloves, and Nell ordered the landaulet.