Gayle Buck (20 page)

“I’ve set the footmen to polishing the silver and running a few errands, my lady. I hope that I have not forgotten any requirements?”

Mary had weathered in good order the Applegate’s vulgarity and faintly insulting conversation without losing an iota of her composure. But the butler’s obvious understanding of the difficulty of her position made her flush. Responding to the situation, Craighton had taken immediate steps to spare her the humiliation of having the servants share gossip over her callers. None of the servants, with the exception of Craighton himself, would be witness to the visit paid by the mistress’s vulgar relations.

“Thank you, Craighton. That will be all,” she said quietly. She was grateful for the man’s loyalty, believing, however, that it was not so much directed toward her as it was to Lord St. John. However much it embarrassed her to rely upon Craighton’s discretion, she was nevertheless glad that certain of her household would not be handed ammunition with which to justify any sort of insurrection. It had not been without difficulty that she had established her authority as mistress of the house.

The butler bowed and withdrew, quietly closing the door behind him.

Mr. Applegate settled against the back of his chair, cradling his cup in his large hands. He looked at his sister-in-law with his habitual broad smile. “Well now; a viscountess. You’ve done very well for yourself, dear sister. In truth, better than anyone could ever have hoped for. Isn’t that so, my love?”

“Oh, indeed,” said Mrs. Applegate, a slightly petulant frown touching her lovely face.

“I suppose the settlements were substantial. Mr. Pepperidge has too shrewd a head not to take advantage of a favorable opportunity,” said Mr. Applegate, sipping his tea and casting another appreciative glance about the drawing room.

“What has brought you to London, Tabitha?” asked Mary, deliberately turning the conversation.

Her polite query brought about an odd reaction. Mr. and Mrs. Applegate exchanged a long speaking look. Mr. Applegate nodded encouragement and his spouse said brightly, “Do you like my bonnet, Mary?”

Mary was taken aback by the seemingly random question. She glanced involuntarily at the smart confection that graced her sister’s head. “Why, it is vastly pretty.”

Mrs. Applegate gave a crow of delight, clapping her hands, while Mr. Applegate laughed heartily.

Mary looked from one to the other, bewildered. “What have I said?”

Mr. Applegate smacked his knee. “Did I not tell you, Tabby, my love: You’ve a rare talent that but wants a bit of scope.”

Mary shook her head. “I don’t understand. Whatever has thrown you into such alt, Tabitha?”

“It is my bonnet, Mary,” said Mrs. Applegate proudly. She saw from her sister’s unchanged expression that her declaration had not been comprehended. She sighed impatiently. “Papa always said you were the cleverest of us all, but I don’t find you so in the least.”

“Now, love,” remonstrated Mr. Applegate. His wife turned her shoulder on him, but he only shook his head tolerantly. “What Tabby is trying to say is that the bonnet is one of her own design. And very fetching it is, too.”

Mrs. Applegate dimpled up at the compliment, her good humor quite restored. She turned her profile to her companions and put up her chin to show her headgear to better advantage. “Is it not the most cunning thing imaginable, Mary?”

“It is very clever of you, certainly, and truly it is a lovely bonnet,” said Mary. She hesitated, then added, “But whatever has that to do with your coming to London?”

“Oh, you
are
clever after all!” exclaimed Mrs. Applegate, quite pleased.

Mr. Applegate leaned back with an expansive air. “Tabby has a notion of setting herself up in a shop.”

Mrs. Applegate frowned at her husband. “Not a shop, Mr. Applegate.
It will be an establishment of mode.”

In the impulsive fashion characteristic of her, Mrs. Applegate turned back to her sister. Mary wore a stunned expression and, with a brilliant smile, Mrs. Applegate said, “And you shall wear all my creations, Mary, and set up such a stir that I will be an instant success! Why, everyone will simply beg me to design their bonnets for them. But naturally I shall not accept any but the highest born ladies. It is positively fatal to dilute one’s quality by quantity. Papa’s talk of his dealings always bored me to tears, but I do recall that much of it, at least.”

Mary had listened with parted lips, speechless with amazement. But at this, she demanded, “Have you told Papa what you have in mind?”

Mrs. Applegate shrugged in an unconcerned fashion. “Oh, no. But Mr. Applegate does not think that Papa will cut up stiff about it once you have agreed to help me. Only think how convenient, Mary! Papa will provide me with all the silks and velvets and ribbons and—oh, whatever else I have a mind to use, while you shall discover me to the ladies of the ton. Isn’t it the most delightfully prodigious scheme? Dearest Mary, I know that you will help me!”

Mary tried, and failed, to visualize herself as a walking advertisement for her sister’s pretty concoctions to polite society. However, she could very well anticipate the viscount’s expression if his lordship ever got wind of the proposed scheme.

Not for nothing had Mary observed the
ton
and listened to the gossip during the past weeks. She had seen how her husband dealt with and was received by society. Surprise had been expressed in Mary’s own presence that Lord St. John had gone far out of his way to squire his wife into society. His attentiveness had been put down to pride and a determination to prove himself above society’s strictures. The advent of vulgar relations could scarcely recommend themselves to him, and Mary had no illusions how the Applegates would be looked upon.

“Oh, my word,” murmured Mary inadequately.

“Look here, Tabby. Our dear sister is fair dazzled by the prospect,” observed Mr. Applegate as he polished off a number of biscuits.

“I knew that dear Mary could not disappoint me,” said Mrs. Applegate complacently.

Mary was moved at last to protest. “I could not possibly! It is absurd—impossible!” She caught hold of herself. “I am sorry, Tabitha, but I really cannot. It is completely out of the question.”

Mrs. Applegate did not appear at all offended by the hasty rejection. She simply got to her feet and began to pull on her gloves. Nodding and smiling the while, she said, “Mr. Applegate said it would take a little time for the advantages of the notion to sink in, so you just think on it for now, Mary. Mr. Applegate says that there is ample time for you to reflect, for we have yet to find the best location for the shop.”

“Establishment of mode,” corrected Mr. Applegate, grinning hugely.

“Yes; and once you do see how very sensible and profitable a notion it truly is, you will be all eagerness to lend me your head,” said Mrs. Applegate.

“Oh no, I shan’t. I mean to keep it firmly attached to my shoulders,” said Mary tartly. She almost shuddered to think what Lord St. John’s reaction might be to the intelligence that his wife was setting up as a hat peddler. Though she had never been the direct object of her husband’s wrath, she had observed several times the signs of a volatile temper in him. Further, she had overheard enough offhand comments by those well-acquainted with him to realize that she had been fortunate in that respect.

The Applegates laughed uproariously at what they took to be her witticism. “Very humorous, dear sister,” said Mr. Applegate appreciatively.

“You are in such a funning humor, Mary. I had quite thought that—but never mind. I am glad now that we have sprung it on you first thing. Mr. Applegate is never wrong about these things,” said Mrs. Applegate blithely. She kissed her sister and waited while her husband also took his leave.

Mr. Applegate lavishly saluted Mary’s hand before offering his arm to his spouse. “We shall be in touch, dear sister,” he promised jovially as he led his wife from the drawing room.

Craighton had hovered just outside the door in readiness to show Lady St. John’s callers out the front door. Once the visitors had been shown off the premises, the butler returned to the drawing room to clear away the remains of the tea. “Shall you require anything else, my lady?

Mary was sitting quietly on the settee, staring pensively into space. At the butler’s query, she turned her head. “I do wish I were not quite so levelheaded, Craighton. One cannot very well fall into hysterics when one is aware of how ridiculous it makes one appear, can one?”

‘Too true, my lady,” said Craighton. His expression was wooden but a faintly sympathetic note laced his voice.

She sighed. “Yes.”

Craighton hovered a moment longer, unwilling to leave before he had been dismissed.

Lady St. John roused herself from her thoughts to smile at her butler. “Craighton, I shall shortly have a note readied to be carried round to my father.” She gathered up her neglected embroidery and started toward the door of the drawing room. She turned in the doorway. “There is no need to mention anything to his lordship about my callers this morning, Craighton.”

“Very good, my lady,” Craighton approved. It would indeed be best if his lordship was not brought into the matter at all.

Chapter 19

Mary received a reply from her father within the day. Mr. Pepperidge’s note requested that she visit him on the following afternoon. She did so, taking a hackney rather than the crested carnage that the viscount had provided for her use since she did not wish the coachman to be able to mention her destination to the other servants and thus have it come to the viscount’s ears.

It was not that she was afraid that Lord St. John would disapprove of her going to visit her father, but that she simply preferred not to be faced with questions that she could not fully answer. She would not have been able to dissemble if Lord St. John inquired what she and her father had talked about. She still hoped that the awful business concerning the Applegates should never come to his lordship’s attention at all.

When Mary arrived at her father’s house, Mr. Pepperidge met her in the entry hall with outstretched hands. “My dear Mary. Come in and let me look at you.” He shook his head admiringly. “You look positively radiant, daughter.”

“Thank you, Papa.” Mary had put her hands in his and now she stretched up to place an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Drawing back, she looked searchingly at his face. “How have you been, Papa?”

“Very well, my dear. I have William staying with me at present, you know,” Mr. Pepperidge said with a hovering smile.

“William! Why, I thought he had returned to school,” said Mary, surprised.

Mr. Pepperidge laughed and shrugged. “He has begged me not to send him back, promising to apply himself to the business instead.”

“But that is wonderful. Papa,” exclaimed Mary, glad for both her father and her brother.

“I only hope that it works out for the best. I have reservations, Mary. I shall not conceal that from you, for you know better than anyone else how impatient the boy is. But that is not what you have come to talk to me about. Come, we shall have some tea and discuss this foolish start of Tabitha’s,” said Mr. Pepperidge, leading her into the parlor and closing the door.

Mary walked over to sit down on the settee. She began pulling off her gloves, remarking, “I was never more astonished, Papa. How could Tabitha believe that I could agree to such a mad scheme? My credit with the
ton is
scarcely of a nature that makes such a thing even remotely possible.”

Mr. Pepperidge regarded his daughter. “As bad as that, my dear?”

Mary’s eyes lifted swiftly to meet his somber and sympathetic gaze. She flushed slightly. “It cannot be wondered at, Papa. I am not their sort. I am accepted to that extent bestowed upon me by Lord St. John’s name, but with a very few exceptions I do not claim friendship amongst my new acquaintances.”

Mr. Pepperidge nodded. “Aye, it is to be expected. And what of Lord St. John?”

Mary tried very hard to disguise the depth of her hurt and her confusion over the viscount’s changed manner toward her. “My lord has always been attentive. He has very diligently introduced me to all of his acquaintances.”

“There is something you are hiding from me, Mary. Has his lordship mistreated or neglected you?” asked Mr. Pepperidge.

Mary quickly shook her head, smoothing her gloves between her hands. “Oh no, nothing like that. It is just that....”

“Come, Mary, you may tell me.”

She raised her head, her eyes brilliant with unshed tears. “It was so much warmer between us at Rosethorn Hall. Now that we are in London, I see so much less of Lord St. John. He still escorts me to all sorts of entertainments, but we have lost that oddly comfortable manner between us. There are so many obligations now that we seem never to have a quiet moment in which to simply talk.” She could not bring herself to mention that her husband had rarely visited her bedroom since their remove to London.

Mr. Pepperidge frowned thoughtfully. “You must realize, Mary, that a gentlemen such as his lordship had well-established habits before he was wed. It is natural that Lord St. John should continue in his former ways, at least for a while.”

“It is so very hard to bear at times,” she confessed.

“Never fear; your own worth must eventually be seen for what it is. Mark my words, it is early days yet,” said Mr. Pepperidge.

“Thank you. Papa,” said Mary. She was grateful for her father’s understanding and support, though she could not wholly believe in the comfort of his words. “I only wish that this thing with Tabitha had not come up just now, for I suspect that my lord will not be amused to learn that his sister-in-law means to exploit his name through me.”

Mr. Pepperidge leaned back in his chair, his concerned expression deepening into a frown. “Your letter to me concerning Tabitha was disturbing, to say the least. I shall not deny that to you. Tabitha obviously has too little sense to realize the harm that she might do you with this precious scheme of hers. A fashionable milliner! It was plain when she and Applegate visited me that the pair of them had something up their sleeves, but I never dreamed that it was anything of this sort. If I had known that they meant to embroil you, I would have been more adamant concerning your privacy.”