Lavender Lady (24 page)

“Your Sophie may think herself lucky to catch a baron, Henrietta, and well you know it. Naturally, if Alton should marry, I might reconsider my opposition to the match.”

This was triumph enough for Lady Bardry. She soon took her leave and ordered her coachman to drive to Paddington.

Hester was not at home.

“She’ve gone wiv ‘is lordship to see Lady Stearn,” announced Bessie, coming out of the shabby house to inspect the visitor. “And Mr. James ‘as gone to ‘anover Square fr ‘is lessons and—”

“My good girl, I do not wish to know the whereabouts of the entire family. Give my card to Miss Godric, and say  I shall be happy to receive her in Holles Street whenever it is convenient to her. Home, Plunkett!” With his lordship to see Lady Stearn? And James in Hanover Square, doubtless at his lordship’s house! Well!

Lord Alton had left Hester with Lady Honoria Stearn and gone with Sir Wilfred to Westminster, where they both had business. Hester’s hostess was as gay and friendly as she had been at the Charworthys’, and without the restraining presence of her husband she allowed her curiosity full rein.

“Pray do not think me impertinent, Hester—oh, may I call you Hester? And you must call me Honor. Everyone does, and even Wilfred admits that it is not inappropriate for though I love to ask questions, I
never
reveal secrets. So you may be comfortable and tell me all about yourself, for you are quite the lady of mystery! You may begin with the day you were born and leave off when you reach today, for nothing less will satisfy me, I vow.”

Never had Hester had such a sympathetic audience for the story of her life, for Bella Rugby had far too much delicacy to probe for any information that did not come to light in the course of ordinary conversation. Lady Honoria felt no similar scruples. She delved with delight into Hester’s happy memories and with commiseration into the sad. Exercising great self-restraint, she managed not to show her redoubled interest when Lord Alton, alias David Fairfax, arrived on the scene.

Colouring faintly, Hester described how he had rescued her from the flooding Thames on the night of Guy Fawkes.

“Two days later, he left,” she said sadly. “That was when I realised I loved him.”

“You do?” crowed Honor. “Oh, that is famous!”

“Oh dear, I did not mean to tell you that.” Hester raised a scarlet face and beseeching eyes to her new friend. “I beg you will not say anything to . . . anyone. I could not bear it, indeed I could not!”

“Of course I will not. Did I not tell you that I am the soul of discretion? Only I do think he must have guessed, loving
you
the way he does.”

“Oh no, it is Alice he loves, not me. She is so very beautiful that men are always falling in love with her. And in general she is shockingly susceptible, but she is not in the least attracted to him, and I am so very sorry for his disappointment.”

“I believe you are mistaken, my dear. He has eyes only for you.”

‘He is always kindness itself to me and to all my family. It is for Alice’s sake and because he is grateful for our care when he was injured. You must not read more into it than that.”

“Well, I shall say no more, but you will allow me my own opinion. How does young Robbie like London? I expect he finds it sadly flat after all the adventures he is used to in Henley.”

Hester soon disabused her of that erroneous notion. She told the tale of Albert the sweep’s boy, followed by the voyage of the India Clipper and a recent incident involving her brother and Frederick Charworthy climbing astride one of the cows in Green Park during a moment’s inattention on the part of Freddy’s tutor. Of necessity, Lord Alton’s name intruded more than once into her narrative, but by avoiding Honor’s eye, she passed over it safely, and Lady Honoria was too kind to comment—when she was not helpless with laughter.

“My dear, what a handful! I do admire you for taking charge of your brothers and sisters and managing so well. I find it difficult enough with one infant and a horde of nannies and nursemaids.”

This led to a visit to the nursery, and when they returned below they found his lordship waiting to escort Hester home.

No sooner was the front door shut behind them than Lady Honoria turned to her husband.

“She loves him!” she announced. “But she thinks he is in love with her sister.”

“Honor!” groaned Sir Wilfred. “I am quite certain you promised to tell no one, if she indeed revealed her feelings to you.”

“I have only told you, and I should not dream of telling anyone else. You do not count.”

“Do I not?” He pulled her to him and kissed her till she gasped.

“Oh, very well,” she agreed, snuggling close, “you count, but you know what I mean. I suppose I really must not tell Alton?”

“Certainly not. That would be the outside of enough!”

“Not even about Alice? Her sister? How can he fight such a misconception if he does not know she holds it?”

“Well, perhaps . . . Oh, I daresay David will call me out for this, but you are right; he should know. Only pray use a little tact in informing him; do not just blurt it out!”

“Of course I shall not!” she replied indignantly. “I shall be finesse personified.”

“Do no let him know I gave you permission to interfere, I beg of you.”

“Pudding-heart! I won’t.”

* * * *

Lord Alton chose to discuss Alice on the drive back to Paddington.

“Rathwycke drove her in the park on Saturday,’ he disclosed, “and danced with her three times at Faversham House. His attentions grow more particular daily, and I cannot believe he is up to any good. I confess I am concerned for her safety.”

“I am sure she does not encourage him,” retorted Hester sharply. The seeds of doubt sown in her mind by Lady Honoria died before they had had time to sprout. “I warned her against him, and in any case it will soon be out of my hands.”

Disconcerted by her tone, his lordship scarcely heard her last remark. It was not at all like Hester to speak with such acerbity. He saw that her face was pale and wondered if she could be as aware of and oppressed by the weight of society’s expectations as he was.

“I think you are tired,” he said with the utmost gentleness. “You are too young to bear such responsibilities alone. You are not offended that I have an eye to Alice?”

“No, no.” The tender concern in his voice brought tears to her eyes, and she wished with sudden desperation -that his care was for her and not her sister. Averting her face, she managed to say, “I beg your pardon for snapping at you. You are right; I am tired. My life seems to grow more and more busy, and though I am already fond of Lady Honor, she is not a relaxing companion!”

“Indeed she is not, but I am glad that you like her. Wilfred’s land runs with mine, as I told you, and they are good neighbours.”

“Sir Wilfred, at least, must know Bella Rugby then?”

“Yes, and when the Rugbys are with her parents, they visit, though in town they generally move in different circles. Bella is somewhat older and was married before Lady Honor left the schoolroom, so they do not know each other well.”

“Do you suppose the Stearns would join us for dinner on Thursday? I should so like to invite them, only I do not wish to presume, or to shock them. I did boast to Honor of my culinary genius, but perhaps she did not believe me.”

“You must certainly invite them, to prove you were not merely bragging.”

“You know that is not what I meant!” Hester smiled wryly. “She likely did not believe I used to cook for my family and shall again.”

“I do not know why you think her skeptical! No, joking aside, I am sure they would be happy to dine with us, if two more guests will not prostrate you.”

“It is close to a year since I assured you that cooking for seven is no more tiring than cooking for six.”

“So it is.” They both feel silent, contemplating the events and emotions of those long months.

The first thing Hester saw when she entered her house was Lady Bardry’s card lying on the hall table.

“Aunt Bardry wants to see you,” cried Robbie, rushing out of the parlour.

“I’m not at all sure you should go,” said Jamie forebodingly, appearing behind him.

To their astonishment, Hester burst into tears.

“As if life wasn’t complicated enough!” she wailed, and fled to her chamber.

After discussing the matter with Jamie that evening, Hester decided to write a note to her ladyship saying she would call on Friday morning. She wished neither to provoke her nor to seem overly eager to comply.

Lady Bardry appreciated the nicety of this response, having steered for years a subtle course between vexing her intimates and causing them to cut her acquaintance. She also, as was her wont, misinterpreted the motives for it, considering it designed to annoy without irremediably offending her. In this it succeeded to admiration. She was forced to make Hester’s excuses to a number of eminent hostesses, but not to abandon her plans for the rehabilitation of her sister’s stepdaughter.

Hester was too busy for the next few days to spare a thought for the coming interview. She went marketing with Dora and was amazed at the large choice of foodstuffs available to the inhabitants of the capital. Rearranging her menu to take advantage of this variety—which she would never have guessed at from Dora’s meals—she prepared as many dishes in advance as possible. Both maids helped willingly with the less arcane tasks, watching and tasting with awe as
pâte
followed
daube
into the cool, stoneflagged larder. The latter might look like a stew, but it tasted like heaven, and all from the addition of a few herbs and a mushroom or two!

“Cor, miss,” said Dora, “if you was to teach me, I c’d go cook for the King hisself!”

On Thursday they shopped early for fish, going all the way to Billingsgate to be sure of the freshest, and coming back by Covent Garden for vegetables and fruit. Lord Alton found Hester making a mayonnaise for a fine turbot and anxiously repeating her instructions to Dora and Bessie.

“I’ve brought the wine,” he announced. “The claret can go straight to the dining room, and we’ll stand the Moselle in a bucket of cold water. Jerry and James are unloading the glasses.”

He had insisted on providing the wine himself, saying laughingly that choosing vintages was the only job in the world he was not prepared to entrust to a woman. Since he offered to teach Jamie something of the subject at the same time, Hester made no demur. Jamie ought to know, and she could certainly not advise him.

Considerate as always, he did not stay to distract her from her preparations. Instead he bore off both Jamie and Rob.

“My nephews have invited them to stay overnight,” he explained cheerfully. “Obliging boys; it’s amazing what they will do for a guinea. Don’t worry, Lady Ariadne will never find out. I’ve discovered that the entire household from Mumford down is in league to deceive her when necessary.

Hester completed the last touches and went over the maids’ instructions for the hundredth time. She then went to the parlour, where Florabel was snoring with her feet on the sofa and her hands folded on her stomach. It took a hefty shake to wake her.

“Eh, wossermarrer?” she mumbled.

“Florabel, you did remember about my dinner party? You’re leaving early this evening?”

“‘Sright, luv, never fear. Pore old widder woman turfed out for the night so’s the gentry can ‘ave a good nosh up.”

Mrs. Stevens had long ago given up any pretence of gentility. She was usually genially prepared to absent herself upon request, but she still showed no signs of making her absence permanent. Hester had almost given up trying, especially after one dreadful scene when it had been all too obvious that her cousin was under the influence of a large quantity of gin.

Leaving Florabel in possession of the parlour, Hester went to lie down in her chamber. She did not mean to sleep, and was surprised to find herself being awakened by Bessie.

“Time to dress, miss. Dora’s put the dob on the fire,
slow-like, and Mrs. Stevens went out a while back.”

In a nervous hurry, Hester put on her old blue gown, the lace overdress newly trimmed with knots of blue ribbon. She was afraid it would not last much longer, but with money slipping away faster and faster, there was no hope of a new one. Going down to the kitchen, she found Dora in confident control.

“It’s right luverly you looks, miss. Don’t be spoilin’ your pretty dress in ‘ere,” she advised. “I knows what to do, so go sit yourself down.”

The parlour was gleaming with newly polished wood, and all traces of Florabel’s presence had been removed. The window was open onto a bed of sweet-smelling wallflowers, and the late afternoon sun filtered through the new foliage of the great elm. A thrush sang. Insensibly calmed by the fresh loveliness of spring, Hester reminded herself that her guests were friends, not mere acquaintances. They would overlook any shortcomings in the evening’s entertainment.

The Rugbys arrived first. Bella’s increasing girth had begun to curtail her activities, so an informal party among friends suited her to perfection. In the three months they had known her, the Rugbys had grown very fond of Hester, and even Barney had decided that she would make David an excellent wife. Alton’s entire way of life had changed for the better; he frequented the House of Lords instead of the muslin company, was to be found in polite society rather than carousing with the disreputable Corinthian set, and had at last found a successor to the estimable but infirm Denton, a problem which had been worrying his lawyer for years. For her part, Bella had seen his once rather cynical charm take on a gentler aspect, his always unfailing courtesy become a matter of kindness as much as pride.

Both were prepared to be delighted by Hester’s dinner party.

Sir Wilfred and Lady Stearn picked up Lord Alton on their way. His lordship was amused to find that Honor actually was incredulous of Hester’s claim to have mastered the chef’s art.

“It is quite true,” he assured her.

“But she is so ladylike, not at all like a cook!”

“She is a lady. Where others have mastered the harp or watercolours, she has acquired a more practical skill, that is all. Do not expect spun sugar castles and such frivolities, though. She has been used to feeding a family, not a horde of over-refined connoisseurs of art. She once told me that she did it because she preferred it to cleaning.’’