Thea's Marquis (12 page)

The butler announced them, and they proceeded into the long drawing-room. Lord Hazlewood stepped forward to greet them, but his mother was there before him.

Gliding forward, the marchioness took the dowager’s hand and cooed, “I am so happy you were able to come. My dear madam, let me make you acquainted with my guests. Lady Cowper, have you met Lady Kilmore? One of the dearest companions of my youth, you must know. We lost touch over the years and met again recently by the luckiest chance.”

Utterly bewildered, the dowager stammered a few words to Lady Cowper, then her hostess swept her on towards the Duchess of Trent.

Emily Cowper, a twinkle in her grey eyes, said to Jason, “I met your wife the other day, Kilmore. You are a lucky man. Lady Kilmore, permit me to present my husband.”

Will DeVine and Mr. Glubb-ffoulkes were bearing down on Meg, the former moving with deceptively casual swiftness, the latter making no effort to disguise his wheezing eagerness.

Amused, Lord Hazlewood said to Thea, “It was my cousin’s notion to invite his uncle. I wager he had forgotten he has a rival there.”

“I daresay he is confident of his superior attractions. Sir, I do not understand why Lady Hazlewood called my mother an old friend. Mama has the vaguest recollection of having once exchanged bows with her, but they were never on anything approaching intimate terms. And when we came before...” She hesitated.

“She scarcely treated Lady Kilmore as a long-lost bosom bow. I’d not say this to anyone else, but I suspect my mother is simply protecting her reputation.”

“For exclusivity? Yes, of course. She would not want anyone to guess that you coerced her into entertaining a family she holds in contempt.”

“Not contempt! You must believe Will when he says that she disapproves of half the ton.”

“But you did coerce her, did you not, sir?”

He smiled down at her. “In the mildest fashion. I told her that if she did not care to act as my hostess for this dinner, I should invite Aunt Anne to do so. Ah, here are the Trevelyans. Come and meet them. Trevelyan and I worked together on a government select committee this past year.”

Thea turned as the butler announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Trevelyan.”

Mr. Trevelyan looked quite ordinary. His petite young wife reminded Thea of Meg. Though her eyes were a startling blue, her curls black rather than dark brown, she had the same lively, friendly air.

Her husband frowned when the marquis introduced Thea. Mrs. Trevelyan seemed somewhat startled but she said cordially, “I am happy to meet you, Miss Kilmore. Is your brother here?”

“Alison!” said Mr. Trevelyan on a warning note.

“Yes, Jason is here,” said Thea, puzzled, “and my new sister-in-law.”

“We saw the announcement of his marriage in the
Gazette,
did we not, Philip? I was so pleased. I should like to meet Lady Kilmore.”

“Later, perhaps.” Mr. Trevelyan took her arm in a firm clasp. “Pray excuse us, Miss Kilmore. We must speak to our hostess.” They moved on.

The dawning dismay on Lord Hazlewood’s face jogged Thea’s memory. “Alison!” she whispered. “Oh, surely not!”

“I’m afraid so,” he said grimly. “What a fool I am! I should have known Mother would not invite my friend only to be conciliating, but I have little patience with gossip and the connection momentarily slipped my mind.”

“Then it
was
Mrs. Trevelyan Jason once attempted to abduct? And everyone knows? What will she do?”

“I cannot guess. Fortunately Trevelyan appears to be in command of himself and his wife and to have no particular desire to come to cuffs with your brother. But how do you know the tale? Surely he did not tell you?”

“No, he told Penny.” Thea racked her brains to recall what Penny had said. “Of course, she was Alison Something Else then. With luck, Penny will not find out who Mrs. Trevelyan is.”

“I sincerely hope not. I would not have had this happen for the world.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “You must not think that I hold you accountable for...oh, dear!”

He grimaced. “For my mother’s troublemaking? Thank you, my dear.”

“Oh no, I am sure Lady Hazlewood cannot have realized how awkward the situation would be.”

“You are generous.” He would have said more, but Mr. Glubb-ffoulkes came creaking up to them.

“Delighted to discover I’m to take you in to dinner, Miss Kilmore,” he puffed, beaming.

Mr. DeVine’s uncle proved an undemanding dinner partner. Most of his attention was concentrated on the succession of superb dishes set before them, from which he helped both himself and Thea with a lavish hand. On the rare occasions when he opened his mouth other than to put food in it, he entertained her with descriptions of the marvels to be found on the Prince Regent’s table.

“Carême’s the most highly paid chef in history,” he informed her, “and he’s worth every farthing. Prinny bribed him away from that Frenchie, Tallyho.”

Tallyho sounded like an extraordinary name for a Frenchman, but Thea did not venture to quibble. She watched Meg, opposite, laughing with Will, and wished she could see her mother and Penny, who were both on the same side of the long table.

Her other neighbour was a Lord Stewart, who introduced himself to her as they sat down. A gentleman in his early forties, he had a pleasant face strongly marked by signs of grief. He had brought in Lady Anne, and during the first course Thea heard him conversing gravely with the self-announced bluestocking on some medical topic.

He turned to her as the second course was carried in. “I understand your home is in the North, Miss Kilmore,” he said, and with a few kindly questions soon had her chatting about Newkirk, and about country life in general. She carefully avoided the subject of vegetable gardening.

All in all, dinner was not half so frightening as she had expected.

When the ladies retired to the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to circulate the port and brandy, Thea went straight to Penny. So did Alison Trevelyan.

Seeing no polite alternative, Thea introduced them. “Penny, this is Mrs. Trevelyan. Ma’am, my sister-in-law, Lady Kilmore.”

“I have been hoping to make your acquaintance, Lady Kilmore,” said Mrs. Trevelyan, with a smile in which Thea could read nothing but friendly interest. “Your home is in Russell Square, I understand? I was brought up just around the corner, in Great Ormond Street.”

As they chatted about the neighbourhood, Thea began to relax. Penny was cheerful and looking well. If Mrs. Trevelyan held any grudge against Jason for her abduction, she gave no sign of it. Artlessly charming, she was as different from the spoiled, feather-headed Henrietta as one pretty, dainty young lady could possibly be from another. Thea had never understood why her brother chose to elope with Henrietta, but she felt he might well have been genuinely enamoured of the present Mrs. Trevelyan.

“I shall be holding my first formal dinner party soon,” Mrs. Trevelyan confided. “I do hope you will come, Lady Kilmore, Miss Kilmore, and your mother and sister, of course. I shall send you an invitation without fail. Now excuse me, pray. I must speak to Lady Cowper.” She pattered off.

“I like her,” said Penny. “And it is such a relief to meet someone else who was not brought up among the aristocracy. Meg will be pleased with the invitation. I daresay she will receive others, for she appears to be on excellent terms with those two girls over there.”

Thea glanced at her sister, who was giggling with a pair of young ladies who looked familiar. “I believe those are the two she met here before. How thoughtful of Lord Hazlewood to invite them. And Mama is having a comfortable cose with Lady Anne. Oh Penny, the Duchess of Trent is coming this way. I hope she does not mean to join us.”

“Fustian! It will do our credit no end of good if her grace chooses to speak to us. Good evening, ma’am.”

“Good evening, Lady Kilmore, Miss Kilmore.” The duchess, an imposing woman in black silk, swooped down upon them like a crow on a cornfield. Her mocking smile was directed at Penny. “How wise of you to accept Mrs. Trevelyan’s overtures,” she said.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am? I fear I don’t understand you.”

Thea understood, all too well. Her grace must have guessed that Penny didn’t know who Alison Trevelyan was. Bent upon mischief, she was about to enlighten her.

“Why, are you not aware that your husband once ran off with Mrs. Trevelyan? Alison Larkin, she was then. Of course, that was in his salad days, all of five months since.”

Penny turned quite white, but she straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I hardly think, ma’am, that it is proper in any wife to enquire into her husband’s wild oats. Unmarried gentlemen are traditionally granted a certain licence, are they not?”

“They are indeed,” the duchess agreed with ironic approval. “And they say that reformed rakes make the best husbands. May I hope that you will call on me one day soon, Lady Kilmore? I am at home on Saturdays.”

With a gracious nod, she left them. Before Thea could do more than take Penny’s hand, Lady Cowper was upon them.

“The Duchess of Trent is a malicious tattlemonger,” she said forthrightly. “Alison Trevelyan is a kind-hearted child, and you, Lady Kilmore, are a sensible woman. If you will permit me to advise you, you cannot do better than to follow Mrs. Trevelyan’s lead.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Penny whispered, clutching Thea’s hand.

“She tells me she has invited you to dinner. You must accept. The more cordial relations between you are seen to be, the less food for gossip.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There is no denying Kilmore was something of a scapegrace, but play your part well and you will be the making of him. I shall leave my card in Russell Square. Come now, both of you, and let me present you to Lady Lewin and Lady Turner. Your sister—Miss Megan, is it not?—seems to be getting along splendidly with their daughters.”

The good-natured countess led them across the room. Introduced by one of Almack’s patronesses, they were naturally received with complaisance if not warmth. Lady Turner went so far as to say Meg was a pretty-behaved child, and Lady Lewin complimented Penny on her gown. The talk turned to modistes. To spare Penny, Thea racked her brains for something to say, but Penny, though still pale, was equal to the challenge of polite conversation.

All Thea had to do was listen and wonder how three grown women could talk so much without saying anything of significance. She didn’t think she would ever learn the knack.

The ladies both admitted to spending most of their time in the country with their young families, and neither seemed to have heard about Jason and Alison Trevelyan. Lady Cowper was right, Thea thought. If Penny and Mrs. Trevelyan appeared to be friends, new talk of the abduction would soon die for want of fuel--as-as long as Jason cooperated.

She watched for him when the gentlemen came in. The first to arrive were Will DeVine, Lady Turner’s son, and another young man, dressed with neat propriety.

All three made a beeline for Meg and her new friends, and Mr. Glubb-ffoulkes creaked along not far behind.

Jason and an older gentleman entered together, deep in conversation. They paused just inside the door and shook hands, then Jason looked around the room. As he made straight for Penny, the man he had been talking to followed at his heels. He turned out to be Lord Lewin.

After a brief confusion of introductions, Jason turned to Penny and said quietly, “I think you are tired, my dear. Do you wish to go home?”

She bit her lip. “We cannot drag Meg away when she is enjoying herself so.”

“I can very well take you and return for the others.”

“Oh. I am a little tired. Perhaps it would be best but...”

Thea nudged her and nodded towards Lady Hazlewood. The marchioness was watching with a smug air. She had most certainly invited the Trevelyans for the express purpose of discomfitting Penny, and she thought she had succeeded in ridding herself of the Cit’s daughter.

Penny stiffened. “Thank you, Jason, but I should like to stay. I should hate to appear discourteous or ungracious when Lord Hazlewood went to so much trouble to arrange an agreeable party.”

Jason looked daggers at the marquis, who had just joined them.

“I am glad you have met agreeable people under my roof. Lady Kilmore,” he said, “but I must share the credit for choosing our guests with my mother.”

“Ah,” Jason murmured, enlightened. He and Lord Hazlewood exchanged a glance of mutual comprehension. “No doubt the marchioness has her own notions as to what constitutes an agreeable party.”

Thea was relieved that the two men had reached an understanding, but she blenched as she saw Alison Trevelyan approaching, tugging her husband in her wake. Mr. Trevelyan’s expression was determinedly blank.

Before they arrived, Lord Stewart came up to Thea and launched into an amusing story about his younger son’s prowess on his new pony. Her attention divided, Thea hoped her comments were appropriate. She caught only enough of the nearby conversation to gather that Jason and Mr. Trevelyan were discussing the weather with stiff politeness. Penny and Mrs. Trevelyan had their heads, one black, one flaming red, together in apparent intimacy, slightly fixed smiles on both their faces.

“Do you ride. Miss Kilmore?” Lord Stewart asked.

“I? Ride? Yes, sir. That is, I used to, some years ago.”

“You do not care for the exercise?”

“I was used to enjoy it greatly. One can see so much more of the countryside than on foot.”

“I have a quiet mare. May I hope that you will ride with me in the Park one fine day? It cannot compare with your moors, alas.”

“Hyde Park? With you?” Thea asked in astonishment. Taken aback, he blinked at her and she added hastily, “I should be delighted, my lord, but I have no habit.”

“Then perhaps you will not be averse to driving in my phaeton, ma’am? Tomorrow afternoon, if you have no other engagements?” He took silence for consent. “I shall call for you at three, if that suits?”

“Th-thank you, sir.” In a daze, she gave her direction. “We reside in Russell Square.”

Once more taken aback. Lord Stewart rallied gallantly. “Three o’clock tomorrow, then. Excellent. Ah, the tea tray is come, I see. Allow me to bring you a cup.”