Read Crossed Quills Online

Authors: Carola Dunn

Tags: #Rgency Romance

Crossed Quills (7 page)

 “That is not what it sounded like,” Pippa sniffed.

 “No, it was carefully worded.”

 “Mama, I do believe you grow quite hardened in deceit!”

 “I trust you noticed,” Mrs Lisle said with pride, “I did not once refer to Prometheus as ‘he’ or ‘him.’“

 Pippa had to smile. “Yes, I noticed. But that does not change the fact that you told Lord Selworth I shall take part in the Season.”

 “Think, dearest! I had to. Mrs Debenham is
your
friend. Even I have not the sheer effrontery to ask her to sponsor Kitty alone. I hope you will go to one or two dances at least, to see how you go on, but if you hate it, my love, you know I shall not force you to continue.”

 Dropping to the floor, Pippa rested her cheek against her mother’s knee. “Oh Mama, I dread it so.”

 “I know, Pippa love, but give it a chance.” Mrs Lisle stroked her hair. “I cannot bear for you to wither away into an old maid, or worse, to become Mrs Postlethwaite! Not that I mean to say the vicar is not a worthy man, and kind in his way.”

 “It was kind in Lord Selworth, was it not, to offer to find us a place to stay in London?”

 “Yes indeed. I do not know how we should contrive without his assistance. Most houses will be taken already at this late date, and I cannot afford to pay enough to give us much choice at the best of times. I hope Kitty will not be disappointed to be living in an unfashionable district.”

 “She will learn to know her true friends by whether they consider themselves too grand to call,” Pippa said tartly. “Dearest Mama, how can she, or I, be disappointed when we have the best mama in the world?”

 Mrs Lisle smiled. “I trust you will one day discover,” she said softly, “that what a mother does for her children she does to please herself. Well then, I hope we shall not all be disappointed. It is by no means certain that Mrs Debenham will choose to support her brother. For all we know, she disapproves of his Radical views.”

* * * *

 “Wynn, the most vexatious thing!” Millicent jumped up and ran to meet her brother at the drawing-room door. Hanging on his arm, she prattled on, “Some horrid busybody has persuaded Mama that Bina is too young to be a proper chaperon for me. Mama says she will come to lend us countenance, but Bina says we must not tear her away from the children and Papa, and the only other person who will do is George’s horrid Aunt Prendergast. Wynn, I cannot bear—”

 “Hush, chatterbox! And pray don’t let me hear you speaking ill of George’s relatives.” Detaching her from his sleeve, over her blond head he gave his brother-in-law a wry nod. “Especially in his presence! Apologize, Millie.”

 “Well, I’m sorry, George, but it was you who told me—”

 “It’s all too true,” George Debenham interrupted, having already learnt the necessity if one was to make oneself heard in his young sister-in-law’s presence. A tall, dark, rather saturnine gentleman, he moved forward and shook Wynn’s hand. “I wouldn’t wish my aunt on anyone, and poor Bina is in despair.”

 “But there is no one else, Wynn,” Millie moaned. “Neither George nor Mama and Papa have any relatives both suitable and available. I do think Mama could leave the children now that there are servants to take care of them and Papa, but Bina says—”

 “Bina says,” said that lady as Wynn bent to kiss her cheek, noting that she looked more determined than despairing, “Mama hates to be away from the young ones and Papa, and hates London. I recall all too well how she pined when she brought me up for my Season. I will not be responsible for putting her through the misery again.”

 “Quite right,” Wynn seconded her. Her unruffled firmness reminded him strongly of Mrs Lisle. A splendid notion struck him. “Hush, infant,” he ordered, raising his hand as Millie started to babble again. “If you will only let me think, I may have the answer.”

 In a pregnant silence, he sat down, absently accepting the glass of Madeira Debenham inserted into his hand.

 Mrs Lisle lacked connections in the Beau Monde, but she was perfectly respectable. Bina had the connections, through her husband, but lacked an older lady to lend her countenance as a chaperon. She was acquainted with Mrs Lisle, and she was Pippa Lisle’s friend.

 On the other hand, Debenham had at most a fleeting acquaintance with the Lisles, and several years ago. Was it too much to ask him to take into his house three females of whom he knew next to nothing? Was it too much to ask of Millie, to share her Season fully with Kitty Lisle rather than just having Bina invite the Lisles to a few parties?

 He looked at Millicent, sitting on the edge of her chair with her eager gaze fixed on her brother. Her mouth opened, but closed again at his frown. Apart from the ever-wagging tongue, she was amiable enough, a pretty chit in her new, modish morning gown, with blue eyes and the fair hair inherited from their mother, but no conceited beauty. The contrast with Kitty’s darkness would be a charming sight for connoisseurs of feminine pulchritude.

 And Kitty’s availability as a listener might do much to spare Albinia from the ever-wagging tongue.

 “Wynn, what is it?” Millie’s muteness had reached its outer limit. “What is the answer? Have you remembered another aunt? It does not matter if she is quite decrepit for all she need do is live here and be respectably elderly while Bina takes me to parties and—”

 “Not an aunt, and not in the least decrepit. But—forgive me, Millie, and you too, Debenham—this is something I must discuss privately with Bina. If she mislikes the idea, it need go no further. Otherwise, nothing shall be done without the assent of both of you.”

 “I should hope not,” Debenham growled with a mock ferocious glance at Albinia.

 “Nothing shall be done without your consent, husband mine,” she said tranquilly.

 “And mine,” Millie insisted. “Wynn said I have to agree as well, don’t forget. Who is she, Wynn? Is it someone I shall like? Is she—”

 “Come along, Millicent,” said Debenham. “Come to my den and tell me all about your presentation gown. Again.” With a martyred face, he swept her ruthlessly from the room.

 “Deuced lucky you are, my dear,” said Wynn, “to catch a capital fellow like George.”

 “Pray never tell him so, Wynn. He is under the impression he caught me. Now, what is all this mystification about?”

 “The Lisles.”

 “You have been to see them already? How is my dear Pippa?”

 “Very well,” Wynn said impatiently. “At least, she seemed in the pink of health and no one mentioned any dread disease. She sent her best regards, or whatever it is females send each other.”

 “Thank you for conveying her greeting so elegantly! What of your mission? Were they able to introduce you to Proteus?”

 “Prometheus, Bina, Prometheus. Yes and no.”

 Bina laughed. “My dear brother, this shilly-shallying will never do if you wish to make a good impression with your speech. Come, let us have a round tale.”

 “You started all that nonsense about Miss Lisle’s health!” Wynn grumbled. “She, incidentally, was most reluctant even to put my case to Prometheus. Her mother persuaded her to allow the gentleman to make up his own mind.”

 “And he said ‘yes and no’?”

 “He said yes, but as payment he wishes me to introduce the younger Lisle girl to the Ton. Both girls, actually, only Miss Lisle was not merely reluctant but strongly averse to a second Season.”

 “Poor Pippa had a miserable time of her first, I fear. But, Wynn, a gentleman cannot sponsor ladies. Do I, by any chance, see where this is leading?”

 “I expect so,” Wynn admitted. “I would never make the mistake of regarding you as a widgeon just because you don’t know Prometheus from Proteus. Will you do it, Bina?”

 “Let me make sure I comprehend the full depths of your deviousness,” Albinia said cautiously. “You wish me to sponsor Kitty Lisle. No difficulty there. Invitations to a few parties, introductions to a few hostesses, easily done. Is she pretty?”

 Wynn grinned. “Ask Chubby. He’s heels over head for the chit.”

 “Mr Chubb went with you?” She held up her hands. “No, no more red herrings, I beg of you! If I am not mistaken, you believe Mrs Lisle would be an acceptable substitute for Aunt Prendergast. “

 “Would she not? I cannot imagine anyone disliking her, but no doubt you saw more of her during Miss Lisle’s Season than I did in two short days.”

 “Oh, as to that, I liked her very well. She was very kind to me when Mama could not cope. But it is a question of whether the world, the starchiest part of the world, will regard her as a suitable...chaperon’s chaperon!” Bina’s smooth forehead wrinkled in thought. Her brother held his breath. “A respectable, well-bred widow of a certain age....Wynn, I cannot see why she should not be acceptable.”

 Wynn breathed again. “To you, to the world, what of George? He is not acquainted with the Lisles, is he? Or barely. Mrs Lisle would have to live in the house to be of any use to you.”

 “George will be only too delighted to welcome anyone who obviates the need to receive his aunt,” Bina said dryly. “When I tell him she was kind to me, he will greet her with raptures. Or if he does not, I shall want to know why. But Pippa and Miss Kitty will have to stay, too, of course. I hope Millie’s nose will not be put out of joint. Is Kitty pretty? Your opinion, now, not Mr Chubb’s.”

 “Very pretty,” said Wynn, pausing before he added, “and as dark as her sister.”

 “Aha! Millie will be glad to hear it. And is she as amiable as Pippa?”

 “Much more so. I don’t wish to malign your friend, Bina, but I should say she can be prickly upon occasion.”

 Bina smiled, a reminiscent smile. “Yes, Pippa was never a commonplace, compliant sort of girl. I shall have to make sure she has an agreeable experience this time. Pray invite them, Wynn, and leave George and Millicent to me. This is going to be such fun!”

* * * *

 
This is going to be simply dreadful,
Pippa thought, gazing unhappily out of the carriage window. As well as suffering through at least a few balls and routs for Mama’s sake, she was going to have to struggle to keep her alter ego secret from Lord Selworth while helping him with his speech. If he resided with the Debenhams in Town, it was a doomed struggle.

 Even the pleasant prospect of seeing Albinia again was marred by a sense of obligation. However kindly she tried to convey her need of Mama’s chaperonage, her offer of accommodation was the height of generosity. As for her husband, he must be very fond indeed to allow three strangers in his home for a stay of several months, and to go so far as to send this comfortable carriage to fetch them.

 “Mama, I cannot believe we ought to have accepted the Debenhams’ invitation,” Pippa said for the dozenth time.

 Mrs Lisle shook her head, smiling. “I should not have dreamt of angling for such hospitality, still less of making it a part of Prometheus’s conditions. However, as it was freely offered, I have no hesitation in accepting. With no rent to pay, there will be much more money to dress you two properly. Not to mention the advantages of having an address in the best part of Town.”

 “I think it is simply splendid of Mrs Debenham,” said Kitty, “but Miss Warren does seem to believe Mama’s presence is necessary to them. And she is happy to share her Season with me, as far as I can make out!” She took from her reticule the crossed and recrossed letter Millicent Warren had sent along with her sister’s invitation.

 While Kitty and Mrs Lisle pored again over the indecipherable scribble, Pippa reflected upon the disadvantages of living with two practical optimists. Mama and her sister simply did not understand Pippa’s concerns. Though capable of dealing with adversity, both accepted good fortune without a second thought, never fretting about the dark cloud behind every silver lining.

 Put thus, it sounded ridiculous, Pippa admonished herself. She really must learn to take the smooth with the rough, not to cross her bridges before she came to them—while continuing not to count her chickens before they hatched. And to avoid clichés like the plague.

 Her chief worry, she realized, was lest she fail Lord Selworth. A speech was very different from an article, Papa had taught her, but he had always written his own. By the time she took over the greater part of the labour of writing his articles, he was too ill to make speeches. Suppose, after all Lord Selworth’s and his sister’s kindness, she proved incompetent to improve on his own efforts?

 
Cross that bridge if and when you come to it,
she reminded herself.

 “Mama,” cried Kitty, “do look at those celandines, how they shine in the sun. I should like a ball gown that colour.”

 “White and pastels, my love, for a girl making her début, though perhaps a satin underdress would be acceptable. Mrs Debenham will know. But Pippa would look very well in a bright shade of yellow, I fancy. What do you think, Pippa?”

 Pippa glanced out at the hedge-bank, golden-yellow with the shiny little flowers. “Perhaps, Mama,” she said cautiously, but a surge of hope took her by surprise.

 She had forgotten she was no longer condemned to the pale colours which suited her so ill—made her look ill, in fact. In vivid shades, and without the need to skimp quite so much on fabrics, maybe she could show Lord Selworth she was not altogether an antidote.

 Rouge? she pondered. If she was practically on the shelf, surely she was old enough to try rouge, just a little bit, carefully applied. She must consult Bina.

 Kitty tapped her arm. “You are lost in a brown study again,” she said with a smile. “I asked you what Mr Debenham is like. Mama has no more than the haziest recollection of him, but you were Mrs Debenham’s best friend so you must recall the gentleman she married.”

 “I did not see a great deal of him. For the most part he moved in circles we did not aspire to. The Debenhams are a very old and well respected Kent family, I collect, connected to the nobility by marriage though not titled. Once Bina had caught his eye, she was invited to the houses of the best hostesses.”

 “But what was he like?”

 “Tall, dark, and handsome, like the hero of a romance.”

 “Oh, handsome! I do not care about his looks, only his character. He sent his carriage and is to let us stay at his house, so he is kind and generous, but so is Mr Postlethwaite.”

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