PoetsandPromises (7 page)

With no hesitation Shelley went to inspect the canvas on the
easel. “Come see this, Mary,” he commanded his wife. “This is excellent indeed.
You have talent, Miss—?”

“Thibeau. Evonne Thibeau,” the woman answered, speaking in
lightly accented English. “And you are?” she asked demurely, her blue eyes
alight with interest and a hint of mischief.

“Shelley. This is my wife, Mary,” he continued, pulling Mrs.
Shelley to his side. And Lord Sherbourne, Mr. Earlywine and Miss Ashwood,” he
finished his brief introductions.

Evonne looked assessingly at the group as they crowded
around and Elisabeth noticed that her eyes stayed longest on Lord Sherbourne
and Mr. Earlywine.

“I have seen artists sketch outdoors but I have never seen
one bring paints and an easel and actually paint outdoors,” James commented.

Miss Thibeau flashed another brilliant smile and turned her
full attention on Earlywine. “This must be the only way to capture the moment,
yes? In Italy, where I lived some years, this is the custom, to paint outdoors,
en plein aire
. You English, you are slow to try the new, yes?”

“It is certainly effective,” Earlywine acknowledged, joining
the Shelleys, who were still examining the canvas. “The flowers appear so
realistic that one feels one could pluck them from the canvas. You are gifted,
Miss Thibeau. I am surprised I am not familiar with your name.”

Miss Thibeau gave a Gallic shrug. “My painting, they are not
the style to be in fashion. All is so dark, the paintings here. Except perhaps
your Lady Gordon, she is the closest to my style, but soft. Me, I like the
colors true. The tulip she is bold red and yellow so that is what I paint. But
they do not sell,” she said with another shrug.

“So I paint the likenesses to pay the bills,” she added with
disarming frankness. “Should any of you desire your likeness taken, you must
come to Evonne Thibeau.”

Lord Sherbourne had also been inspecting the painting on the
easel. “That is an unusual spelling of your name,” he commented. “One usually
finds it beginning with a Y.”

“One must stand out to remain in the mind, yes?” Miss
Thibeau elucidated. “One must have the difference. I spell Evonne with E, not
Y, I am remembered, yes?”

“Would you care to share our picnic, Miss Thibeau?” Mrs.
Shelley asked. “We should be delighted to have you speak more of your art.”

“
Merci
, but I must take care of the paints. They must
not dry out, and I have been long here already. Perhaps another time, should we
meet.”

Elisabeth, after duly admiring the painting, had been
watching the effect the charming artist appeared to be having on Lord
Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine with some consternation, for they were both
clearly intrigued by the Frenchwoman. Only Shelley, whose attention was on the
painting rather than the artist, appeared immune to Miss Thibeau’s abundant
charms. Suddenly Elisabeth felt very much the brown wren next to the ethereal
Mrs. Shelley and vivid Miss Thibeau. Her confidence deserted her and as the
group left Miss Thibeau and wandered back to the trees Elisabeth grew very
quiet. She felt a heaviness of spirit and her newfound happiness in her
arranged betrothal vanished as she realized she felt jealous of the artist’s
effect on Sherbourne and Earlywine. Disturbed, Elisabeth glanced back a last
time at the artist, and when she turned away her eyes met Shelley’s. The poet
held her gaze, a wordless communication passing between them, and Elisabeth
almost felt as though he had touched her with a commiserating yet reassuring
gesture. She sensed that Shelley, at least, found her fully as attractive as he
did the artist.

Not long afterward the party broke up and as the men took
their leave of one another Mary Shelley spoke to Elisabeth.

“Percy and I are settling in Marlow, Miss Ashwood. It is
very near London. You must come and visit us. My husband likes solitude but I
am fond of company and would be very pleased to have yours.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Shelley, I shall be most happy to call upon
you in Marlow,” Elisabeth promised, pleased to know her company was desired by
such a beautiful and charming woman. The invitation eased much of the hurt
Elisabeth had felt after noting Lord Sherbourne’s and Mr. Earlywine’s
admiration of Evonne Thibeau but could not remove it entirely.

Peering around one of the profusion of potted palms that had
been placed about the ballroom, Elisabeth observed the company that was gathered
for Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball. Guests milled about the room, some standing
and exchanging greetings, others settling into the chairs that had been placed
around the perimeter of the room. The elaborately trimmed ball gowns most of
the women wore looked quite fine
en masse
, although Elisabeth still
preferred the simpler styles for herself. It appeared that Miss Earlywine’s
come-out ball was set to be a success, Elisabeth decided, although she supposed
she was not the best judge given that this was the first London ball she had
attended. She turned to Lady Parker, who was seated beside her.

“I think Miss Earlywine looks very fine,” she commented,
thinking how comely the pretty, slightly plump young woman had appeared in her
white ball gown trimmed in blue fabric ruching. A matching blue fabric sash
tied at the front of the high waist and Miss Earlywine’s merry blue eyes and
light brown hair reminded Elisabeth strongly of her brother James.

“Yes, she looks charmingly,” Lady Parker agreed. “And there
is quite a crush for a ball held so early in the Season. Lady Earlywine will be
pleased.”

“Miss Earlywine is not the only one who is charming. I am
convinced I am sitting with two of the most exquisitely dressed ladies at the
ball,” Sherbourne said gallantly from his place to the other side of his
sister. Lady Parker was looking exceptionally fine in a simple lavender silk
gown, a matching bandeau around her fair hair and a necklace of beautifully cut
amethysts encircling her graceful neck.

“The country dances will begin before long,” Sherbourne
added to Elisabeth. “I hope you will do me the honor of partnering me for the
first set, Miss Ashwood?”

“Thank you, Lord Sherbourne,” Elisabeth agreed, pleased. She
knew she was looking her best in her new ball gown of white muslin, accented
with a fine white lace stole, her soft brown hair arranged in curls at the side
of her face. White was the one color a person with plain medium-brown hair
could wear to advantage, Elisabeth thought, so it was fortunate that convention
demanded young women making their debut confine themselves to that color for
ball gowns. Lady Parker had also insisted on lending Elisabeth a simple but
beautiful necklace of pearls and Elisabeth felt that she had never appeared to
better advantage.

When Sherbourne led Elisabeth out to join the set on the
dance floor a few minutes later, taking their places about a fourth of the way
down the line, Elisabeth felt she had never been happier. She was enjoying the
evening far more than she had thought she would and did not feel in the least
out of place. Her pique at Lord Sherbourne’s admiration of the artist Evonne
Thibeau had vanished, leaving her slightly ashamed of her jealousy. The set
began and Elisabeth flashed a happy smile at Lord Sherbourne as the first
couple marched down the center of the line, followed by the couples in their
turn.

Lord Sherbourne restored Elisabeth to Lady Parker’s side
after the long set ended but Elisabeth had no time to rest before she was asked
to stand up with a Mr. Bayfield, whom Lady Ellsworth presented to Lady Parker
as a suitable partner for her protégé. Mr. Earlywine claimed Elisabeth’s hand
for the third set.

“Miss Earlywine’s come-out bids fair to be a success,”
Elisabeth commented to James. “She must be quite pleased.”

“She is indeed,” Earlywine acknowledged. “‘Melia had feared
it was too early in the Season for a good turnout but I told her that this
early in the Season there were fewer entertainments, so the ones there were
would have more guests.

“Have you seen Miss Thibeau yet this evening, Miss Ashwood?”
James continued, changing the topic. “Do you recall the artist we met at the
park? I discovered she is the niece of the Comtesse de Fleurille, and asked my
mother to send them an invitation.”

Miss Thibeau. A chill crept over Elisabeth and all her
pleasure in the evening vanished. “No, Mr. Earlywine, I have not noticed Miss
Thibeau, but there is such a crush one might easily miss one guest amongst the
crowd.” She forced herself to answer politely, despite her dismay at the
information that Miss Thibeau might attend the ball.

When James returned Elisabeth to Lady Parker at the end of
the set, Elisabeth felt unaccountably tired.

“Might I bring you a glass of ratafia?” Lord Sherbourne
offered. “It might offer you some refreshment.”

“Thank you, Lord Sherbourne,” Elisabeth accepted. She fanned
herself idly, watching his tall figure cross the ballroom floor to obtain her
ratafia, when she saw him stop to speak to someone. Thinking the dark-haired
woman he was speaking to looked familiar. Elisabeth looked at her more closely
and realized it was Miss Thibeau. She
had
come!

“Lady Parker, Miss Ashwood, good evening.” A well-modulated
voice addressed them, diverting Elisabeth’s attention from Lord Sherbourne and
Miss Thibeau.

“I have come to sit out a dance with you, Lady Parker,” The
Duke of Norland continued after they acknowledged his greeting. “You do
remember your promise?”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Lady Parker admitted. “Please sit
down,” she added, indicating the chair Lord Sherbourne had vacated.

As Lady Parker and the duke conversed in quiet tones
Elisabeth consulted her dance card. The next dance was the first waltz of the
evening. It was the dance she had been looking forward to more than any other,
for no other dance allowed one to hold one’s partner as closely and she had a
secret desire to be so held in Lord Sherbourne’s arms. It appeared that he had
entirely forgotten her ratafia, but surely Lord Sherbourne would return and ask
her to partner him for the waltz? They were, after all, betrothed—even though
it was not announced. Elisabeth watched him anxiously as he conversed with Miss
Thibeau and an older woman she assumed was the comtesse. The set ended and to
Elisabeth’s dismay she saw Lord Sherbourne take the floor with Miss Thibeau.
Stricken, Elisabeth tried to hide her expression behind a rapidly fluttered fan
but not before her companions had noticed it.

“Miss Ashwood, would you do me the honor of partnering me
for the waltz?” the Duke of Norland requested, rising and holding out his
gloved hand.

With an effort, Elisabeth blinked back tears of
disappointment and smiled at the duke. “Thank you, Your Grace, I would be
honored.”

As Elisabeth took the floor with the duke she forced herself
to smile and concentrate on getting through the waltz creditably. She could not
have had a better partner, for the duke danced with elegant ease and assurance.
But Elisabeth’s mind was on another couple and each time Lord Sherbourne and
Miss Thibeau circled near them she could not help covertly watching and her
heart sank to see the smiles on their faces. So focused on Lord Sherbourne was
Elisabeth that she missed seeing how many eyes were on herself and her noble
partner. At last the waltz ended and the duke escorted Elisabeth back to Lady
Parker. Lord Sherbourne joined them soon afterward.

“Miss Ashwood, I am sorry I was unable to dance the first
waltz with you but the comtesse suggested Miss Thibeau as an appropriate
partner and since I had not had the forethought to obtain your promise ahead of
time I no excuse to refuse,” Lord Sherbourne explained to Elisabeth with a
contrite expression. “Please accept my apologies and allow me to partner you
for the quadrille.”

Elisabeth was relieved to see that Lord Sherbourne appeared
genuinely sorry to have failed to partner her for the first waltz. But although
she told herself it was petty and unworthy, she punished the viscount for his
defection by refusing to stand up for the quadrille, pleading tiredness. Lord
Sherbourne politely offered to sit the dance out with her and this time did
actually obtain her a glass of ratafia. Elisabeth took the glass with a pretty
smile of forgiveness, rather ashamed of her behavior. Punishment awaited, for
no sooner did Elisabeth put her lips to the glass than she was dismayed to see
Miss Thibeau and the comtesse approaching. Lord Sherbourne and the duke rose
politely as the two women stopped before them and Elisabeth tried to disguise
her consternation behind a polite smile of welcome.

“Your Grace, Lady Parker, Miss Ashwood, may I present the
Comtesse de Fleurille and her niece Miss Thibeau,” Sherbourne introduced them.
“Countess, Miss Thibeau, the Duke of Norland, my sister Lady Parker and Miss
Ashwood.”

As she murmured her greetings Elisabeth looked the two women
over carefully. The comtesse was a dignified-looking older woman clad in a gray
and purple striped gown and matching purple silk turban. Miss Thibeau was even
more striking up close than she had appeared at a distance. Her dark, curly
hair contrasted with her beautifully white skin and blue eyes and both were set
off by a fashionable pink gown trimmed with swags of ruffles and appliquéd
flowers. The heavily trimmed style that Elisabeth and Lady Parker had felt
would not be becoming on themselves seemed designed especially to set off Miss
Thibeau’s opulent charms. Once again Elisabeth felt to be quite the common
brown wren Mr. Hunt had termed her.

After courtesies were exchanged, to Elisabeth’s dismay Miss
Thibeau and the comtesse took chairs next to theirs.

“Miss Ashwood, I am very delighted to make your
acquaintance,” Evonne said to Elisabeth, avoiding mention of their meeting in
the park.

Unhappy but honest enough to feel she was well served for
her prevarication, Elisabeth forced the conventional words from between her
lips. “And I am delighted to make yours.”

Couples were beginning to take the floor for the second
waltz and Sherbourne asked Elisabeth to partner him as the duke politely
requested the same of Miss Thibeau. Thinking uncharitably that Miss Thibeau had
most likely come to join their party precisely so that the duke would ask her
to dance, Elisabeth accepted Lord Sherbourne’s arm onto the floor. As they took
their places and waited for the music to begin Elisabeth was hopeful that being
in Sherbourne’s arms for the dance would erase her hurt and restore her
confidence in herself as the woman to whom Sherbourne was promised. But the
waltz proved a disappointment for as Elisabeth whirled around the room in Lord
Sherbourne’s arms all she could think of was Miss Thibeau and how beautiful she
had appeared as she had danced with the viscount. The delicious sensation of
being in Sherbourne’s arms that Elisabeth had anticipated did not materialize.
When Sherbourne returned her to Lady Parker’s side after the waltz ended
Elisabeth thought ruefully that the course of her engagement with Lord
Sherbourne was not going to be as smooth as she had assumed it would be.

Two days after Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball, Elisabeth
entered the morning room to find Lady Parker with a puzzled look on her face as
she perused a letter. She looked up at Elisabeth’s entrance.

“Good morning, Miss Ashwood. I am most puzzled by this. I am
instructed to bring you and appear before the patronesses of Almack’s—but as
you must recall, I did not apply for vouchers.”

“Could there have been a mistake?” Elisabeth asked, sitting
down on the striped sofa and stroking Revati, who jumped up in her lap.

“What can be the cause of such curious expressions?”
Sherbourne asked, coming unannounced into the drawing room with Mr. Earlywine.
“You and Miss Ashwood look as though you have been asked to solve the riddle of
the sphinx.”

“This is equally puzzling, Richard,” his sister replied,
holding the letter out to her brother. “I am informed that we are to appear
before the patronesses of Almack’s, yet I did not apply.”

“That is no mystery,” James interposed. “My mother and
sister also received such a letter this morning. No doubt it was the attendance
at her come-out ball by the Duke of Norland and his marked attentions to you.
The committee to decide who receives vouchers to Almack’s meets on Monday
night—this is Tuesday. I am certain that must be what occurred. Y’see, they
would fear incurring his grace’s displeasure should you not be invited.”

“I see,” Lady Parker said. “Then I suppose we shall have to
appear, as I am certain the patronesses would consider it unforgivable if we
did not,” she added, not appearing particularly pleased about the honor.

“I am certain it is just a formality and that it is a
foregone conclusion you will receive vouchers,” Earlywine said comfortingly.

“I had no aspirations to such an honor,” Lady Parker said.
“And what one does not have one cannot lose,” she added cryptically.

“Miss Ashwood, it would seem you will be experiencing the
very highest levels of society as well as that of the literary set who are, of
course, considered beyond the pale,” Mr. Earlywine teased Elisabeth, taking a
chair across from hers.

“I shall be interested to hear which you prefer after your
first appearance at a Wednesday night assembly,” Lord Sherbourne added
teasingly.

Elisabeth smiled back, enjoying the easy familiarity, and
felt more charitable toward the viscount than she had since he had waltzed with
Miss Thibeau at Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball. “I shall promise to tell you
provided you promise not to inform either party of my answer,” she agreed.

“Now that you are here, Richard, would you and Mr. Earlywine
care to accompany us to the circulating library?” Lady Parker asked as she
filed the letter of acceptance from Almack’s away in her desk, its mystery
solved.

“I should enjoy accompanying you some other morning,” Lord
Sherbourne answered apologetically, “but Earlywine and I are on our way to the
Comtesse de Fleurille’s. We have decided to have our likenesses taken by Miss
Thibeau, and she tells us that the morning light is the best in her studio.”