Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress (33 page)

“If that is the sort of company your family keeps, I don't wonder you behave as you do.”

“If we are to talk of
families
, Lord Cairnyllan…” But she stopped at the look in his blue eyes.

“So you have heard. I daresay it is one of the
on-dits
by this time. I have noticed that you Londoners are fond of French words. Do you think they hide the real nature of your interests? It is still scandal you talk, whatever you call it. And scandal you live. Stay away from my sister, Lady Alicia.” And he turned on his heel and was gone.

Alicia was breathing rapidly, her fists clenched at her sides. But she forced herself to wait and grow calmer before she followed him back into the ballroom. The man was hopeless, she thought. Whatever his father had done, it was no excuse for the kind of insulting stupidity Cairnyllan repeatedly exhibited. She would forget the MacClains, all of them, from this moment forward.

The following evening, Lavinia and Alicia were promised to Mrs. Julia Beaufort, who had organized a party for Vauxhall. Alicia dressed for it with some care but no great enthusiasm. Mrs. Beaufort was an old friend of her family, and she could not seem to understand that Alicia had long ago left the schoolroom. Alicia did not dislike her—indeed, one could not—but she did object to being treated with amused indulgence at the age of five and twenty. Yet Mrs. Beaufort's invitations and attentions were so well-meant that she rarely refused her.

She did, however, choose one of the most sophisticated of her gowns, a sea-green gauze trimmed with bunches of dark green ribbon. To the matching wrap and slippers, she added a fan her mother had left her. It had come from China and held a delicately painted landscape in various shades of green and gray on its slender wooden panels. Alicia felt it gave her toilette a certain worldly air; surely their hostess must at last notice that she was past fifteen.

They arrived at the Beaufort townhouse at nine, and were greeted in a flurry of lavender silk in the drawing room. Though Julia Beaufort was a large woman, she always moved in sudden rushes, with much expressive gesture. Alicia's father had once attributed her manner to the fact that she had been widowed very young and never chosen to remarry. Certainly if she saw herself as thirty, Alicia had realized, she must see the younger generation as children.

“Alicia, darling!” she cried as she enveloped the girl in a scented embrace. “It's been an age since I've seen you.”

“How are you, Aunt Julia?”

“Oh, perfectly well, as ever. But let me look at
you
.” She held Alicia away from her ample bosom. “I declare, you are more like your mother each day. And what a sweet gown, dear.”

Alicia smiled. She wondered what the extremely fashionable, and expensive, Bond Street modiste who had made the dress would say if she heard it described so. It was, in fact, the antithesis of “sweet,” as the two of them had intended. Though not quite unsuitable for an unmarried girl, it was certainly at the limits of what one might wear. Its tiny sleeves and scooped neck showed Alicia's lovely neck and shoulders to their best advantage. But Julia Beaufort saw only what she wished to see. “Thank you, Aunt Julia,” replied Alicia, still smiling.

“Come and sit down. The others will be along directly, and we can be on our way. Isn't it exciting? I haven't been to Vauxhall in, oh, two years, I believe. Somehow, I got quite out of the habit.”

“Is it to be a large party?” asked Alicia. In her experience, Aunt Julia's guests tended to be ill-assorted.

“No, dear. A dozen or so, I think. I'm sure I asked young Teddy Dent at Almack's last week, and he will make twelve. I thought he would be company for you.”

Alicia couldn't restrain a grimace. Teddy Dent was nineteen and just up from Oxford. She had met him once and found him insufferably silly. But before she could find out who else was to join them, the butler announced some new arrivals, and his voice made her go very still.

“Mary!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaufort, rising and surging forward with both hands outstretched. “How divine to see you again.” She grasped her guest's hands and held them to her bosom. “When I heard you were in town, I was bowled over. And pleased, of course. I had quite given up ever seeing you here.”

Lady Cairnyllan, who was dwarfed by her hostess, seemed to be having trouble formulating a reply. She stammered some acknowledgment of Mrs. Beaufort's kindness.

“And these are your lovely children.” She surveyed Ian and Marianne, who stood just behind their mother. “The image of you, Mary dear.” She shifted to a penetrating whisper. “Nothing of
him
in them at all.”

Lady Cairnyllan, diminutive and dark beside her two tall redheaded offspring, merely looked bewildered. Ian stepped forward and gave his name and his sister's.

When Julia Beaufort had greeted them with equal gusto, she took Lady Cairnyllan's hand again and led her forward. “You must allow me to present an old friend,” she told Alicia and Lavinia. “Mary and I came out in the very same Season.” She tittered. “Several years ago, now, of course. And then Mary went off to Scotland, and I have not seen her since. But when I heard she was in London, naturally I called at once.”

“We have met already,” said Alicia, who had found her voice by this time. She smiled at Lady Cairnyllan and nodded, including Marianne but avoiding Cairnyllan's eye.

“Indeed?” Mrs. Beaufort seemed disappointed. “How splendid.”

The butler reappeared, ushering in a trio of very young men, and the rest of the guests then appeared in quick succession. Mrs. Beaufort swept her party down to two carriages and, to Alicia's annoyance, seated her between two of these sprigs, who appeared overcome by the honor and hopelessly tongue-tied. Since Marianne MacClain, in the same case opposite her, appeared oblivious to the problem, and chattered happily all the way to Vauxhall, Alicia said nothing. But by the time they arrived, she was ready to talk to even Ian MacClain. He was, at least, intelligent.

Vauxhall was lovely, however, and some of Alicia's impatience dissolved as they approached. They went by boat, her favorite method, and she was as always pleased by the panorama of lantern-hung trees, softly lighted pathways, and colorful strollers. The lanterns made gilded green haloes among the leaves and here and there lit a bed of red or yellow flowers. Music floated over the water to them, along with a hum of talk from the boxes surrounding the pavilion.

“Oh,” gasped Marianne behind her. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“Only my present companions,” dared one of the young men, whose name Alicia had already forgotten. He bowed to each of them in turn, and blushed. Marianne giggled.

With a sigh, Alicia turned away. They had reached the landing, and two attendants were tying up the boat. Mrs. Beaufort herded them all out and over to one of the best boxes, which she had engaged for the evening.

“Now,” she said, settling into a chair after having ordered lavish portions of the wafer-thin sliced ham and other delicacies offered, “the children may dance or stroll about the gardens together, and we can have a good
talk
.” Her expression as she looked at Lady Cairnyllan suggested that she meant to discover every detail of the years they had been separated.

Lady Cairnyllan seemed to shrink in her chair. Knowing Julia Beaufort, Alicia sincerely pitied her. Aunt Julia was really kindhearted, but she did not possess a great store of tact or sensitivity. She often asked questions that made her companions blanch, and pressed for answers when anyone else would have noticed their awkwardness.

“I don't think…” began Cairnyllan.

But Alicia was ahead of him. “No, no, Aunt Julia. You can't keep Lady Cairnyllan sitting here all evening. She must have a chance to see Vauxhall, too. If you would care to look around, I would be happy to go with you, Lady Cairnyllan. I think I know the gardens fairly well and can show you the best vistas.”

“Oh, yes,” replied the older woman, looking relieved.

“A splendid idea,” agreed Cairnyllan, speaking over Mrs. Beaufort's protest. “I will escort you.” He offered his arm, which his mother took, and swept the two of them away before their hostess could object again. As they went, he glanced at Alicia with a grateful expression, though he said nothing.

“Let us start with the Grand Promenade,” she added. “It is this way.” Leading them away from the boxes, Alicia wished that she had not been so quick to speak. The last thing she wanted was to spend time with Ian MacClain, and from what she had seen of his mother, it seemed unlikely that she would contribute much to the conversation. Why had she put herself in this position? And after her firm resolve of last night? This brought back Cairnyllan's insults, and Alicia's mouth tightened.

“Julia was always so positive,” murmured Lady Cairnyllan.

“Was she?” replied Ian, sounding amused. “Did she chivvy her friends about in this way even as a girl?”

“Oh, yes.” His mother chuckled softly. “I remember once at a ball. She had no partner—she had been away from the ballroom when the set began—but she simply swept up to Ralph Johnston and
stood
there, looking at him, until he asked her. He said afterward that the look in her eye had made his blood run cold.”

Alicia burst out laughing, and Lady Cairnyllan started as if she had forgotten her presence. “Oh! I did not mean…”

“I understand perfectly,” Alicia assured her. She had heard the genuine liking, along with amusement, in Lady Cairnyllan's tone. “I feel just the same. I love Aunt Julia, but she can be a bit
much
.”

After a moment's hesitation, the older woman returned her smile.

“You know, I always wondered if she insisted that Mr. Beaufort offer for her,” Alicia went on. “I remember him as such a quiet, retiring gentleman. Of course, he died when I was very young.”

Lady Cairnyllan chuckled again, as if unable to suppress it. “We wondered too. He loved her; that was plain enough. But we could not imagine him getting up the courage to speak. And Julia never waited for anyone. Indeed, it took a good deal of determination to get a word in with her. So…But I went off to Scotland before they were engaged.” The warmth died out of her voice as she said this, and Alicia saw the light in her face fade, leaving behind lines of sadness. She remembered what she had heard about Lady Cairnyllan's unhappy marriage.

“Did you ever come to Vauxhall in those days, Mother?” asked Cairnyllan, obviously trying to redirect her thoughts.

“Oh yes. It was even more fashionable then. The crowds looked quite different, of course, everyone in wigs and satin coats.” Her dark eyes grew dreamy. “What dresses we had then. I confess, today's modes have never seemed truly elegant to me. When I was a girl, my favorite gown was of ivory satin; the skirt was caught up with garlands of roses to show an under-dress of cherry stripe. With a hoop. I wore a rose in my hair, too, all in powder, of course. You should have seen us strolling here then, Ian. It was a real spectacle.”

“And you were among the loveliest,” he agreed with a smile. Meeting Alicia's eyes above his mother's head, he quickly looked down again. She was deeply moved by the pity and love she had glimpsed in his face. In that moment, it was clear to her who had kept the MacClain family serene through its difficult years.

“Oh no,” said Lady Cairnyllan. “I was never a reigning toast. But I had a splendid time.” She blinked and looked around. “Lady Alicia, I beg your pardon. I am boring you dreadfully.”

“Not at all. I am very interested. You are talking of the time when my father and mother first met.”

“Yes. I'm sorry I never encountered your mother. I have heard about her beauty and wit. You remember her?”

Alicia nodded, growing thoughtful in her turn. “My strongest memory is of watching her brush her hair in the candlelight. She always insisted upon doing it herself. She had a silver hairbrush, and her hair was nearly silver, too. The light seemed to grow brighter on it, as if it shone of itself.” She looked up. “I saw her chiefly when she was getting ready to go out.”

“How old were you when she died?” asked the other sympathetically.

“Nine.” Alicia felt suddenly bereft, as she had not for years. Seeing Ian and his mother laughing together made her feel the lack of such a relationship in her own life.

Silence fell. Both Alicia and Lady Cairnyllan appeared pensive.

“Did you know Lady Alicia's father?” asked Cairnyllan.

“The duke? Oh, yes.” His mother smiled again. “Of course, he wasn't the duke then. He was one of the young bucks. We all thought him very handsome, but my mother warned me to avoid him.”

“Did she indeed?” responded Alicia, intrigued. “Why?”

“He was a notorious flirt. And he didn't seem likely to settle down for quite a time. Mama wished me safely married.” Her smile wavered again.

Alicia burst out laughing. “Wait until I see him next. Papa, a desperate flirt! How I shall tease him.”

“Is he away?” wondered Lady Cairnyllan, smiling.

“He is nearly always traveling on diplomatic business.”

“And so it is just you and your cousin? Poor child.”

Alicia blinked. No one had ever characterized her as a “poor child” in her life. Quite the opposite. Cairnyllan too was struck. When he had seen Alicia tonight he had been first dazzled by her beauty, as always, then disapproving of her costume. He had forbidden Marianne just such a dress the day before. Then, with her kindness to his mother, he had begun, to doubt again. He could not seem to reconcile her behavior and her appearance.

“Look at that,” exclaimed Lady Cairnyllan, and both the young people turned.

“It is one of the Grecian temples,” replied Alicia. “There are a number of pavilions and statues scattered through the gardens, arranged in vistas.”

“Yes, I know,” murmured the other, and Alicia belatedly remembered that Lady Cairnyllan was familiar with Vauxhall. “I was talking of that group ahead of us. The gentleman looks very like…but it can't be.”

Cairnyllan frowned a little. Alicia gazed at the group. There were several gentlemen among it. “Do you mean Lord Wrenhurst?” When Lady Cairnyllan said nothing, she added, “Or Mr. Browne? Or Sir Thomas Bentham?”

“Is it?” Lady Cairnyllan almost whispered.

Alicia and Ian exchanged a puzzled look. He appeared worried. “Another old friend, Mother?”

“What?” She glanced up almost guiltily. “Oh, it is nothing, Ian. I once…that is, we were friends long ago. I daresay he has forgotten all about me after all these years. With his own family and…is that lady his wife?” She watched the woman in conversation with Sir Thomas with narrowed eyes.

“No,” answered Alicia. “Sir Thomas is not married. There is the usual story of a broken heart in his youth.” She started to smile, but frowned instead when she saw Lady Cairnyllan suddenly pale. “What is it? Are you tired?”