The Marriage Market (18 page)

“I would be honoured, madam,” James responded, and soon he and Lady Hélène were ensconced at a table for two while the maid took her mistress’s packages home in the carriage.  Coffee and cake were delivered to the table while the two friends chatted.

“I am so happy to have bumped into you today, Mr. Wovington.  I have just chosen some cigars for Lord Harry at the tobacconist’s.  But, tell me about Mrs. Greene.  Just what is your relationship with her?”

James trusted in Lady Hélène’s discretion enough to overlook her inquisitiveness, and so he recounted the history of his acquaintance with Mrs. Greene, including their current commercial venture.  “I am only assisting the lady with my legal expertise.  The business is entirely owned by Mrs. Greene.”

Lady Hélène listened to him with her chin cupped in her hand.  “But, how extraordinary!  What an undertaking for a woman with no protector.  She should be encouraged.  But, you know, I can be of assistance to her!  I am holding a soirée in a fortnight.  I was lamenting to Lord Harry only this morning how dull it will be with the usual crowd one gets in the summer.  But now I will ask you to come, and you can bring Mrs. Greene.   She will make some useful introductions and liven up my party, too.  I am not the only person who wants to know her, you comprehend.  No doubt she will be the highlight of the evening!”  Lady Hélène clapped her hands with delight.

James smiled.  “Your ladyship is very kind.  I am sure that Mrs. Greene will be most grateful for your invitation.  I would be delighted to accompany her to your soirée.”

Lady Hélène looked him up and down.  “It will be a formal occasion and there will be dancing.  You look very well in silk breeches, Mr. Wovington, and you are an excellent dancer.  Many of my lady friends have said so.  Does Mrs. Greene dance well?”

“I have not had the pleasure, your ladyship, but I have heard of her grace upon the dance floor.  I am certain that you will not be disappointed.”

“That is well, Mr. Wovington.  I would not want my evening to be a disappointment.  Ah, I see that Sophie has returned with the carriage.  May I drop you somewhere?”

“No thank you, your ladyship.  It is only half a block back to the tobacconist’s.”

“Well, do not let me keep you, Mr. Wovington.  I will send my servant tomorrow with your invitations.  I feel so much happier about my party now.  Until then . . . .”  Lady Hélène rose, and James bowed as she left the café.  All in all, he had had an excellent return on his investment of two cups of coffee and a plateful of cake.

The invitations arrived promptly the following morning.  James sent his servant round to Jemma to inquire about a morning visit, and the lady replied that he would be very welcome.  Thirty minutes later, they were drinking tea together in her morning room.

“James, it is so good to see you again.  I have missed you, you know.  You must come and dine with me tomorrow night.”

“I would be happy to, Jemma, but I have a purpose in coming to see you this morning.  Lady Hélène Ferguson is having a soirée in a fortnight, and has asked me to bring you.  She believes that you will benefit from the introductions you will make at her party just as much as her party will benefit from your attendance.”

Jemma’s eyebrows rose.  “James, that is good news, indeed.  What a wonderful opportunity for me.  You are very clever to have arranged it.”

“It was none of my doing, Jemma.  Lady Hélène was all agog to meet you.  You have made quite an impact on the Bath ton.”

Jemma’s face grew pensive.  “Of course, I will have to wear something quite unique to impress those ladies.  Fortunately, I still have a fortnight and the services of a very clever seamstress to assist me.”

“What about that gold-coloured silk you brought back from Paris?  That would make a very striking gown, and it would suit your colouring admirably.”

Jemma’s face lit up.  “James, do you think I dare?  I was saving that piece for a very fine commission.  It cost me dearly, you know.”

“My dear, I cannot think of a more suitable occasion for splurging.  It would be an excellent business investment.  You will look magnificent in a gown cut from that cloth.”

Jemma leant forward to pat his hand.  “You are a great flatterer, James.  You are just what a woman needs to buoy up her courage.  But I think that there is something of the peacock in you that enjoys dressing up, too.”

James smiled.  “You are quite right, madam.  I do so enjoy it when my partners are on par with my own magnificence.”  The co-conspirators laughed together.

On the night of Lady Ferguson’s party, James kept Jemma waiting a few minutes outside his lodgings.  It has been a rainy, overcast day, but the sun burst through the clouds as James hurried up to the carriage.  James looked very handsome in a stylish black suit with silk breeches and a waistcoat cut from gold damask cloth and embroidered with red and green silk thread.  A ruby lay nestled in his elaborately-tied cravat. 

The coachman stepped forward to open the door.  Pausing to remove his hat, James was saying, “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Jemma,” when his eyes fixed upon the lady for the first time.  He faltered, half in and half out of the carriage.  Jemma looked stunning.  She wore a cloak of gold silk tied loosely at the throat with a red satin ribbon.  Her dress was cut from the same cloth, fitted snugly with a red sash to accentuate her slim waist.  Her feet were encased in gold damask slippers encrusted with red crystals, and her arms were covered in long, white satin gloves.  Her cocoa bean-coloured hair was caught up in a gold cap trimmed with white plumes.  His eyes were drawn to the hollow at the base of her throat where a handsome ruby and diamond pendant glittered.  One or two rays of sunlight infiltrated the carriage, and the glimmering gold cloth and sparkling gemstones dazzled James’ eyes.

“Well, sir,” Jemma said with a smile, “am I fine enough for you this evening?”

Jemma’s voice broke the spell.  James hastened to sit in the seat opposite her as the coachman closed the door.  “Jemma, you look magnificent,” he said, a touch of awe in his voice. 

The coach started forward.  “You look very handsome yourself, James.  Together we make a golden couple.”

James recovered his customary élan.  “As usual, you are your own best advertisement, my dear.  The eyes of every man will be upon you this evening, and the ladies will throng to the drapers tomorrow to demand similar finery.  The shop owners will deluge you with orders.”

“I hope that your sunny predictions come true, James.  But, oh, I am so excited to see the Ferguson estate.  I have heard that there is Italian marble in the ballroom and fountains in the gardens.  I have also heard that Lady Ferguson’s boudoir was decorated by the same artist who decorated the personal chambers of Empress Josephine,” she said, lowering her voice.

James leaned forward with a solemn face and declared, “It is all true.”

Jemma laughed and shook her head at him.  “How would you know such a thing?  Are you telling me that you have seen Lady Ferguson’s bed chamber?”  James winked and Jemma laughed again. 

“Well, I may not have seen it myself,” he admitted, “but my valet is nephew to the Ferguson’s cook, so I have it on good authority that Lady Hélène’s room is a paradise of feminine luxury.  No woman could possibly be unhappy surrounded by such beauty, I have heard.”

Jemma sighed.  “And yet, I feel a perfect ninny to be impressed by such things.  I wish that you had known my father, James.  He was such a wise, good man.  He raised me to value much worthier things, like serious scholarship, good works, kindness, and strength of character.  I am glad that he cannot see me tonight, excited as a child to be in fancy dress and visiting the home of a lord and lady.”

James reached forward to clasp her hand.  “I am sure that your father would be very proud of you, Jemma.  You have endured much unhappiness in your life, but instead of succumbing to a life of mourning, you use your talents and resources to build a business and to live as you see fit.  You are to be admired, Jemma.  And what is wrong with appreciating beautiful things, if they give a little enjoyment to life?”

Jemma’s eyes became moist during this speech.  “Thank you, James.  You do not know how much it means to me to hear you say so.  Your friendship is very precious to me.”

“Very well, then.  Raise your head, fasten a smile on your lovely face, and watch the cream of Bath society bathe in your glory tonight.  I shall follow meekly behind and try not to be trampled by your admirers.” 

Jemma threw her arms around him, holding him tightly for a moment, before falling back laughing into her seat.  She spent the rest of the drive composing herself, while James regarded her thoughtfully.

Chapter Seventeen ‒ Lady Hélène’s Ball

The couple had timed their arrival well.  The initial crush of party-goers had slowed when they appeared at the entrance to the ballroom where Lord Harold and Lady Hélène waited for their guests.  Jemma made a deep curtsy and James bowed.  The crowd turned as her ladyship exclaimed in ringing tones, “It is the beautiful Mrs. Greene.  We meet at last.  I am delighted to know you, Mrs. Greene.  You look exquisite in your wondrous gown.  Is she not enchanting, Lord Harold?”

Lord Harold’s hearing was no longer acute, but his eyesight was as sharp as ever as he regarded Jemma appreciatively.  “You look very well, madam.  It is Mrs. Greene, is it?  I am always pleased to have a beautiful woman grace my home.  Who is this with you?  Oh, it’s Mr. Wovington.  I remember you from that business with my brother-in-law.  You were quite clever in that undertaking, sir.  Good man.  Come in and help yourselves to a bowl of punch, or maybe something stronger, eh?”

Lady Hélène left her post to escort Jemma into the room.  “I have a friend who longs to meet you, my dear.  Let me present you to the Duchess of Beaufort.  Duchess, this is Mrs. Jemma Greene.”

Jemma curtsied before a mature woman whose hair was still worn powdered and upswept.  Her dress of green silk was similarly uninspired, but she counteracted the drabness of her accoutrements with a necklace of fat pearls and glittering sapphires.  The duchess appraised her through a lorgnette as Jemma rose from the floor. 

“Mrs. Greene, I am happy to know you.  What a splendid gown you are wearing.  I am practically blinded by the glint.  Where ever did you find such sumptuous material?”

“From a clever weaver in Paris, your ladyship.  He was once employed by the French royal family.”

“How intriguing.  I am sure that not every complexion would be flattered by such a colour, however.  Do you think that I could dare to wear such a dress?”

Jemma took a step backward and considered the angular woman with a practised eye.  “The cloth would look well on you, your ladyship, but I think that a rich russet colour would complement your complexion even better.”

“Really, Mrs. Greene?  I have never worn such a bold colour.  What colour gemstones would you recommend for such a dress?”  The duchess took Jemma’s arm and chattered about clothes as they strolled about the room. 

Lady Hélène smiled and turned to James.  “Will you escort me back to his lordship, Mr. Wovington?  I think that Mrs. Greene will be occupied for the next little while.”  James bowed and conducted her back to her spouse. 

“Your friend looks extraordinary, Mr. Wovington,” she added as they walked.  “I can hear the thoughts of the other ladies.  They are wishing that they were brave enough to wear such a gown.  Tonight she has set a new standard for fashion.  If I did not admire her so myself, I, too, would be feeling a little envious.”

“Ridiculous, Lady Hélène, you are always on the forefront of fashion yourself.  You are an ornament to any assembly you favour with your presence.”

“Ah, Mr. Wovington, are you sure that you do not have a little French blood in you?  You flatter as well as a Frenchman.”

“A high compliment, indeed, coming from your ladyship.”

Lady Hélène tapped him lightly with her fan as they climbed the stairs to the doorway.  “You might wish to attend to your friend, sir.  I see some wolves approaching the lamb.”

James turned to look for Jemma in the crowd.  From his elevated position, he could see her conversing with a pair of young ladies while a trio of gentlemen were converging on them from behind.  James was acquainted with the predatory nature of the gentlemen, and made his way briskly down to her through the crowd.  Jemma turned to greet him and introduced him to her two young acquaintances, a Miss Somerset and a Miss Amelia Somerset, nieces of the duchess.  They bobbed him a curtsy.

Miss Somerset said, “How do you do, sir?  We spied Aunty with Mrs. Greene and asked to be introduced.  We have never seen such an elegant gown before, have we Amelia?  Not even in London.”  Miss Amelia smiled her agreement.

Jemma replied, “What a generous compliment, ladies.  But I must return the favour.  Your gowns are both very becoming, and I truly admire the artistry of whoever dressed your hair.”

The older sister simpered and was about to say more when her aunt summoned the girls from across the room.  “We will call upon you next Tuesday, Mrs. Greene, if you will be at home?”

“I look forward to your visit Miss Somerset, Miss Amelia,” she responded as the girls hurried away.

One of the trio of gentlemen tapped James on the shoulder and bowed.  “Sir,” James said with a nod before steering Jemma in the opposite direction.  The gentleman looked after them with an opened mouth.