Candice Hern (19 page)

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Authors: Just One of Those Flings

BOOK: Candice Hern
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"Has he? Well, that is most interesting, Mr. Burnett."

"Lord Thayne and I rode in a caravan halfway across India once, perched upon elephants the whole trip."

"My goodness!" Charlotte said, wide-eyed. "How frightfully exotic. And Lord Thayne as well? He is the one Emily is —" She clamped a hand over her mouth and gave Beatrice a chagrined look. She recovered quickly, however, and said, "Well, if Lord Thayne has ridden an elephant, I should like to meet him, too."

"Then it shall be done," Mr. Burnett said. "Come, Lady Charlotte, and allow me to introduce you." He looked over Charlotte's head and sent Beatrice a brief wink. He would use Charlotte to detach Emily from Gabriel's side.

Beatrice followed. The duchess was closer, and so she stopped first to present her daughter. Charlotte curtsied beautifully and said all that was proper. Beatrice beamed with pride when Her Grace complimented her daughter's pretty manners.

They moved on to the court of admirers that had gathered around Emily. Mr. Burnett was taller than the rest of them and somehow managed to forge a path to her side.

"Ah, Thayne," he said. "You must allow me to introduce you to a delightful young lady."

Beatrice saw Emily's eyes narrow momentarily as Gabriel was coaxed away from her side by Mr. Burnett. But her attention was soon drawn by Lord Newcombe, who eagerly took Gabriel's place.

"May I present Lady Charlotte Campion?" Mr. Burnett said. "Lady Somerfield's daughter. Lady Charlotte, allow me to introduce Lord Thayne."

Gabriel dropped his somber, aristocratic reserve a bit and smiled. "I am charmed, Lady Charlotte." He took her hand and bowed over it, causing Charlotte to giggle. "How good of your mother to allow us to meet you."

"Mr. Burnett said you rode an elephant halfway across India."

Gabriel nodded. "So he is already filling your head with tales of our travels, is he?"

Charlotte's face fell. "Tales? It's not true, then?"

"Oh, it's perfectly true. I'll wager you would enjoy riding an elephant, Lady Charlotte. They are twice the height of a horse, you know, so one feels quite above the world atop one of them."

Charlotte's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Oh, how utterly, absolutely, thoroughly wonderful! I should like nothing more. Does everyone ride elephants in India?"

"Not everyone can afford to own an elephant," Gabriel said. "But I met a king once who had a stable that housed one hundred and twenty elephants."

Charlotte gasped. "One hundred and twenty? My goodness, that must have been a prodigious big stable."

Gabriel chuckled. "It certainly was."

"How I wish I might travel to India one day," Charlotte said, and heaved a wistful sigh. "It would be exceedingly interesting, would it not, Mama? Oh, there is my sister, Georgie. We must tell her about the elephants." Charlotte began waving wildly at her sister, and Beatrice despaired of any further decorum from her youngest daughter that afternoon.

Georgiana came over and Beatrice made the introductions. The sound of new arrivals and departures recalled her to her duties as a hostess, however. "Please do not allow my girls to monopolize you, gentlemen. Georgiana, five minutes. Do you understand me? No more than five minutes, then allow Lord Thayne and Mr. Burnett to take their leave of you."

Beatrice caught Gabriel's eye and smiled ruefully. He returned her smile and nodded. He was being an awfully good sport. Charlotte could be wearying in her enthusiasm. He seemed pleased, though, to spend time with her girls. Or maybe it was simply a matter of not having to spend any more time with Emily.

But he ought to have known how it would be. It was foolish of him to risk renewed expectations from Emily. And from everyone else in attendance who might spread new gossip about them. He really ought not to have come.

Beatrice turned toward the new arrivals, pleased to see Wilhelmina, to whom she owed a great deal of thanks for last evening. She welcomed the opportunity to tell her how grateful she was. Penelope followed close behind, and then Grace, too, entered the drawing room. All the Merry Widows, save one.

Beatrice quickly greeted other guests and bade farewell to those departing, then allowed herself to be pulled into her group of friends, each of whom seemed very excited about something. She sent a silent thank-you to Wilhelmina, who nodded, but was not given a moment to say anything before Penelope began speaking in an anxious whisper.

"You will never guess what has happened," she said. "Never."

"No, I never will," Beatrice said, "so you had better tell me. What is it?"

"Marianne and Cazenove are married."

"Married?" Beatrice smiled and shook her head. "That
is
surprising. But I do think they are very much in love, don't you? When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," Wilhelmina said. "Grace was a witness."

"Yes," Grace said, "I was there. Mr. Cazenove had procured a special license and convinced Marianne to marry him right away. It was very romantic, if you ask me. Marianne sent for me to stand up with her, and Lord Rochdale was there for Mr. Cazenove."

"Rochdale?" Beatrice gave a little shudder. "I do not like that man. I have seen him look at Emily in a way that makes me very uneasy."

"He looked at me that way all through the ceremony," Grace said. "It was most unsettling."

"He flirted with you?" Penelope sounded as though such a thing were impossible, but Grace was a remarkably beautiful woman, even if she was prim to a fault.

Grace nodded and her mouth twisted in distaste. "I suppose it comes from being the only woman in the church besides Marianne, and he couldn't very well flirt with her at such a time. He stood altogether too close, and whispered things in my ear. It was horrid, I tell you. But it was worth a bit of discomfort to see Marianne so happy. She was perfectly radiant."

"Then I am pleased for her," Beatrice said.

"But
marriage
?" Penelope said. "I thought she only meant him to be her lover. Do you not find it a bit shocking, after all we have said about not wanting to marry again? You especially, Beatrice."

"Well, it is not me who has got married. But yes, it is rather unexpected. But I have to think they will be happy together. You can see how much he loves her. Let us wish them the best and not question Marianne's decision."

Penelope heaved a sigh. "Well, at least we know she'll be happy in the bedroom. Remember what she told us about his lovemaking?"

"Penelope, hush," Grace said. "That is not proper conversation for Beatrice's drawing room, especially when she has other guests."

"Thank you, Grace. You are quite right, of course. We must keep those sorts of discussions to ourselves. And ladies, I have much to tell you in that regard."

"No!" Penelope's face lit up like a candle. "Lord Thayne?"

"Shh. He is right over there, talking to my daughters. So please, let us discuss it later."

"You can be sure we will," Penelope said. "I want details, my girl, details."

"Later," Beatrice said. "I must see to my guests now. But I will tell you this, Penelope: you were right."

 

* * *

 

 

"I liked Mr. Burnett best," Charlotte said.

The three girls and Beatrice were all sitting on Emily's bed sorting through fashion plates. It had been a busy afternoon with more guests than usual, and Beatrice was fatigued. But her daughters, especially Charlotte, were still agog with all the people they'd met. Georgie was a bit dazzled at having met the Duchess of Doncaster, though the fact that her own mother was a countess did not seem to impress her much.

"I thought Lord Ushworth was rather nice," Georgie said. "And quite handsome. Do you like him, Emily?"

Emily gave an indifferent shrug. She often affected an air of ennui when talking to her younger cousins about her social life. Beatrice was always pleased to note, however, that both of her daughters tended to ignore Emily's often superior attitude. They knew her too well and did not allow her to get away with it for long.

"I have no particular opinion of him," Emily said, and tossed aside a few fashion plates. "I suppose he might be seen as a good catch for some people, but he is nowhere near the top of my list."

"What about Sir Frederick Gilling?" Georgie said. "He seemed quite taken with you."

"And he had a splendid set of watch fobs," Charlotte said. "Did you see them? One of them had an actual Roman intaglio. I was dying to ask for a closer look."

"Thank heavens you had the good sense not to do so," Beatrice said. The image of her daughter reaching for a man's watch fob, which hung below his waist, was enough to induce palpitations.

"And what of Mr. Jekyll?" Georgie asked.

"He's too short," Charlotte said. She picked up the discarded fashion plates and thumbed through them. "I still like Mr. Burnett best."

"He is
very
tall," Georgie said. "And has a wonderful smile."

"He certainly does," Beatrice said, pleased to champion the charming young man. Gabriel had assured her that Mr. Burnett was in possession of a tidy fortune, despite his position as the younger son of an earl. Such were the benefits of India. Ophelia might prefer a grand title for her daughter, but in the end it was the fortune that mattered. "I should think most girls would swoon to have Mr. Burnett's smile turned on them."

"Mr. Burnett does not make
me
swoon," Emily said. "He is too much of a tease. Not at all a serious gentleman."

"But he's ridden an elephant," Georgie said, grinning at Charlotte. "How many gentlemen do you know who can claim that?"

"Well, there's Lord Thayne, of course," Charlotte said.

"Oh, my, but he
is
handsome," Georgie said in a wistful tone than sent a shudder down Beatrice's spine. "Surely the most handsome of all the gentlemen we met today. Do you not think so, Emily?"

"I suppose so."

Beatrice gaped at Emily. She supposed so?

"I think he's positively divine," Georgie said. "Even handsomer than you said he was. I can see why he is considered the catch of the Season. I do think it would be exceedingly romantic if you married him, Emily."

Beatrice picked up another stack of fashion plates and pretended to study them. She did not like the direction of this conversation. To hear her own daughter describe Gabriel as divine — Gabriel, the man who had just the night before held Beatrice naked in his arms — was almost more than she could bear.

Emily held up a fashion plate showing an evening frock with a demi-train. "This one," she said, and handed it to Beatrice. "Yes, Lord Thayne is handsome enough, but the more I see of him, the more I wonder what all the fuss is about. There are handsomer men, taller men, probably richer men, too."

"I thought he was at the top of your list," Charlotte said. "He is a marquess, after all, the heir to a duke."

"Yes, but I have discovered that I cannot like him. I find him rather tiresome, and excessively dull."

"Dull?" Charlotte squealed. "He's been in
India
and ridden
elephants
. How is that dull?"

Emily shrugged and handed Beatrice another fashion plate. "I like this pelisse," she said. "And I am sorry, Charlotte, but I have no interest in elephants. Perhaps if Lord Thayne is still looking for a bride when you grow up, he will marry
you
, and you can ride off on an elephant together."

"I should like that," Charlotte said, quite seriously.

"Well,
I
should not," Beatrice said with feeling. It seemed she no longer had to worry about Emily and Gabriel, thank God, but the last thing she needed was for one of her own daughters to pine after him. "He is too old for you, my girl, and will be even more so by the time you are ready for your come-out."

"Yes, I know," Charlotte said. "He is
faaaaar
too old. I was only joking, anyway. And I still like Mr. Burnett best."

Beatrice rose from the bed and straightened her skirts. "You are seduced by the exotic, my love. I fear an ordinary country gentleman will never do for you."

"Never!" Charlotte burst into giggles.

 

* * *

 

 

"What about this one?" Charlotte asked, holding out a fashion plate with a bold-colored opera dress.

Emily took one look at it and shuddered in horror.

"That would not suit Emily," Georgie said. "Those colors would not look at all well on her."

"Thank you, Georgie," Emily said, nodding an acknowledgment to her cousin. "I declare, I despair of you, Charlotte. If you cannot see how that shade would not suit
my
coloring, how on earth will you ever pick out your own dresses? That red hair will always be a trial, you know."

"Mama will teach me," Charlotte said. "She has the same coloring. Sort of."

"Still, you will need to take care," Emily said. "You cannot afford to wear something that does not flatter you."

Charlotte snorted. "You think because I am not beautiful that I will need all the help I can get."

"We should all dress in styles and colors that flatter us," Georgie said.

Emily smiled. Georgie was by far the prettier of the two, with coloring closer to her own, but always made sure that the fact was not tossed in poor Charlotte's face too often. She was very protective of her younger sister, though if there was ever a person who did not need protecting, it was Charlotte.

"You needn't worry about me," Charlotte said. After her mother left, she had stretched out on the bed, lying on her stomach with her knees bent and her feet stuck in the air. "You may have been born beautiful, but I will grow into my looks. Mama says so. She says I look just as she did at my age, but that eventually my freckles will fade and my body will fill out and maybe I'll look like her one day. I hope so. I think Mama is the most beautiful woman in all of London."

Emily laughed. "For an older woman, she is indeed very handsome."
And besides
, she would like to have added,
everyone knows that
I
am the most beautiful woman in London
.

"For any age," Charlotte said. "Don’t you notice how certain gentlemen look at her?"

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