The Education of Portia (9 page)

With a sigh at the machinations even the most simple undertaking could require,
Portia--so soon as they reached the main road--began to point out sights of interest and educational
objects to be seen from the carriage.

Her efforts took them to the edge of the city, but Sabina's animation could not be
contained at her first sight of the metropolis. "Papa has promised I shall come out in three years,
Miss Crossmichael. I thought I could not wait, but I do not find the city so very attractive. I had
not thought London so very dirty and noisy."

"You must not judge all London by Islington and Finsbury, my dear. Wait a little
moment... Yes, here we are come to Oxford Street. Now the streets improve."

"Oh, yes I do see what you mean! This is much of an improvement. Oh, Mr. Dent, do
you not find it exciting? I could imagine... Oh, good gracious there is Papa!"

All five heads in the carriage turned in the direction of her pointing finger.

"Sabina, drop your hand! Of all things, to point in company is the most rude action of
all." Portia's reproof was swift and sharp. Her dismay at spying Lord Stadbroke herself fairly
choked her.

Reactions in the carriage were swift and mixed. "I did not thee him," wailed
Penelope.

"Neither did I," said Melicent.

Sabina blushed deeply over her lapse of manners and murmured that her father had only
been visible for a moment. She was too overcome to pay any heed when the carriage halted to
deposit Dent on the pavement.

"Five o'clock at the Fox and Grapes?" Caldwell asked.

Portia agreed with a nod. Cal was going to meet with his father. She could only hope his
visit was without incident. She was overwhelmed by unexpected feelings of her own. She had
clearly seen the viscount, his head bent protectively toward the lady leaning on his arm. Portia
used the term 'lady' advisedly in her thoughts; the rouged cheeks and flamboyance of the
woman's clothing proclaimed her to be nothing of the sort.

She could only be relieved that the crowded pavements had immediately swallowed up
the view of the dratted libertine and his lightskirt. She was only astonished that they were abroad
so early in the day, but she supposed that the ladies of the
ton
had not yet left their
chambers, much less their homes, and so the Cyprians ruled the pavements.

She took a deep breath. "Well, it was remarkable to glimpse Lord Stadbroke, was it not?
As Melicent earlier said, it is most unusual to see among the crowds anyone whom one knows.
Now our destination is just ahead, on the left."

To her relief, the Museum visit was uneventful though a great success with her charges.
They were all three possessed of avid curiosity and Portia was kept busy answering their
questions about everything from the ancient Greeks to the South Seas. After three hours and a
half, they were all beginning to flag however.

Portia canvassed their opinions. "Shall we leave now, and take tea and ices at Gunter's?
We may come back another day and see more."

The young ladies overwhelmingly agreed. They were trailing down the steps, Portia
holding Penelope's small hand securely, when Melicent cried, "Papa!"

And there on the pavement, passing by, was Lord Stadbroke. On his arm this time was a
breathtakingly lovely young woman, whose every feature and detail breathed lady of quality and
aristocrat. There could be no mistaking that this young lady was separated by the widest of gulfs
from the viscount's companion earlier in the day.

Portia cursed their ill luck. Of all the people there were in London, how could they come
to encounter the viscount twice in one short space of time? "
Bona Dea
!" she muttered
vainly under her breath. The gods were surely against her.

"Papa, we saw you before. Hourth ago," Penny lisped, descending the remaining steps to
cling to his leg, grubby gloves marking his biscuit pantaloons.

The viscount flashed a glance to Portia and she allowed him to see all her distaste for
their earlier glimpse. She hoped she left him in no doubt as to what she had seen.

His gaze flickered back to his daughters, as a frown creased his forehead. "Lady Mary, I
must introduce you to my daughters: Sabina, Melicent and Penelope. Girls, Lady Mary
Therford."

Portia was proud of the girls' curtsies and Sabina's dignified response. "Lady Mary, may
I introduce our teacher, Miss Crossmichael?" she said.

The young lady's response was honey-sweet but subdued.

Portia noticed that her grip on the viscount's arm had tightened. And the look Lady Mary
directed at Portia was not at all sweet. "We have had an educational day, my lord. And now we
are going to Gunter's for tea before I see my students home to Hornsey."

"Do come, Papa!" Penelope transferred one grubby paw to one of the tails of the
viscount's impeccable coat.

"Please do, Papa," Melicent echoed.

"Oh, Lord Stadbroke, I must go home. Mama will be expecting me!" The young lady's
voice was breathless with appeal.

Portia could see that the party of schoolgirls was not at all to Lady Mary's taste, and that
the attractions of the viscount were tarnished by his position of father to three daughters. She
swallowed a chuckle.

Lord Stadbroke visibly sought for a solution to demands of four young women.
"I...ah..."

"Papa, you promised we should see the Hill Street house sometime. This is a splendid
opportunity. Does Lady Mary live nearby it? Perhaps we may convey her home and continue on
to our house?" Sabina offered her father a solution.

"Yeth pleath, Papa," Penelope shrilled. "We must visit Ruff too."

Lady Mary dropped the viscount's arm, and moved to Sabina's side. "A charming
notion," she said. "Grosvenor Street is only a step from the viscount's Hill Street house. Nothing
could be more convenient."

Portia wondered if she had made the hound's acquaintance. With interest she watched
Lady Mary, with some decision, detach Sabina from the group and hold her in close conversation
at the head of their party. Lord Stadbroke had been neatly trapped by the young ladies'
manoeuvrings, she thought.

"I shall be delighted to show you the house," the viscount said to the party at large as it
reorganized itself. Melicent joined Sabina and Lady Mary in the front and Penny clung to her
father's hand.

Portia placed her gloved hand reluctantly on the arm he offered to her.

Stadbroke's voice, when at last he spoke, was strained as if it was an effort to make
polite conversation with her. "Do you often bring your charges to London, Miss
Crossmichael?"

"Every three weeks or so I bring several of the girls to some improving display or
museum, my lord." Portia was all too conscious of the play of muscle under his superfine sleeve
and consequently her voice was particularly brisk.

"And do the parents know of this?" The viscount's glance was disapproving and
accusatory.

Portia might have expected his concern. "Their parents trust me to do what is best for
their girls, Lord Stadbroke. In nine years, I have never before encountered a parent on one of
these excursions, no child has ever been injured or lost, and no parent has ever showed the
slightest interest in or concern over how I educate their daughters."

"More fools they."

"Contrary to your belief, my lord, I do not object to your interest in your daughters'
schooling. Likewise I hope you will not baulk at my suggestions to you as a parent." Portia
ventured on a veiled warning. "Your young ladies may hear all sorts of gossip from their friends
and the families of those friends. It is important for parents to conduct themselves in a manner
that will not embarrass or hurt their children. I have had to tend more than one broken hearted
pupil whose parents could not be bothered with discretion. I hope your children will not suffer
this fate."

A dark flush crept up the viscount's lean cheeks. "My behaviour is none of your concern,
Miss Crossmichael." He glanced down at his youngest child humming with pleasure, oblivious to
the conversation above her head.

"And I thank heaven for that, my lord. Do, please, ensure that it does not become your
daughters' concern."

The unpleasant interval was ended by their arrival at the home of Lady Mary. The
viscount stepped forward to hand her up the two stairs before her door, and he pulled the
bell.

Portia could only be glad that she and the girls could not hear the inanities he was no
doubt whispering in Lady Mary's ears. If she was the young woman's mother, she would not
permit a liaison for her daughter with a man old enough--nearly--to be her father.

The viscount rejoined them when the door closed behind Lady Mary.

"Ith Lady Mary to be our step-mama?" Penelope was fairly quivering with anxiety.

"I have no intention of taking a wife, Penelope." Stadbroke tugged at his neckcloth to
the detriment of its intricate folds.

"Papa wouldn't pick such a widgeon for our stepmother, Penny," Melicent's words
followed close on her father's suppressive comment.

"She's only a little older than I," Sabina said, her eyes round.

The viscount looked harassed. "Do you wish to see the house or not? If you continue all
this palaver, it will be time for Miss Crossmichael to convey you back to Hornsey. Now come
along, do. I am sure Cook may be convinced to provide us with a substantial tea; she has a fine
hand with pastry."

Though Portia was politely given the support of the viscount's arm for the rest of the
walk to Hill Street, she had nothing of his attention. Indeed, she was unwillingly impressed by
his interaction with his daughters and envious of their ease with him.

The exercise of only a few minutes saw them established, with the dog, in the drawing
room of the Perringtons' new London house. Portia was surprised by its excellent proportions
and tasteful decoration. She had, in her perception of the viscount as a man about town, thought
that his faults would include a slavish attention to the latest whims of taste and style be they
never so atrocious. But the house displayed an elegance and charm that she could not fault. It
was a modern construction, every material of the finest, and the workmanship was clearly
superb. Fine silk decorated the walls, even in the corridor and landings, and the paintings that
hung upon them displayed the eye of a connoisseur with an interest in the coming artists. The
viscount lived in some considerable style and comfort.

The hound had greeted them rapturously in the entry and the three girls had responded
with at least as much delight. Portia had been urged to submit to a lick of his broad tongue; she
could see why the girls were so devoted to the creature, but she feared her second best kid-skin
gloves would never be the same.

"Papa it looks so much like home," Sabina revolved in the middle of the spacious
chamber, leaving the Ruffian to her younger sisters. "Indeed I see a davenport, pier glass and
table, and a sopha that are from home!"

Melicent flung herself down on the aforesaid sopha and said, "I'm ever so hungry."

Lord Stadbroke had had a word with the butler who had opened the street door, and was
able to reassure his middle daughter. "Be brave, Mel, and sustenance will be forthcoming. Cook
has been baking, Richards tells me."

"May I thee my bedchamber, Papa?" Penelope stood with her arms wrapped around the
big dog's neck.

"After tea, poppet. Miss Crossmichael, have you constraints upon your time? Are we
taxing your patience?"

Portia appreciated his concern, but also disdained it as an effort to be done with them.
She forced a smile. "Not at all, my lord. We are to meet my brother at five o'clock. I have only to
send a message to my coachman at the Fox and Grapes in Berkley Square to command his
attendance for the journey home. "

"This is home, ma'am," Sabina said. Her happiness was reflected in her sisters'
faces.

"I am glad you approve," Lord Stadbrooke inclined his handsome head at his eldest
daughter. "Some of our pieces at the Place seemed well-proportioned for a townhouse, so I had
them shipped here to town. And added some new purchases. Empty spaces at Stadley have been
filled by some of the old, massive items that had been consigned to storage. I would not have
everything new there."

"Mama wanted everything new. She required everything up to the minute." Melicent
muttered.

Portia was intrigued by this suggestion of dissension in the Stadbroke marriage. But her
ungenerous reflections were cut short by the arrival of the tea tray and a substantial repast. When
the girls had eaten their fill, they clamoured to be taken above stairs to see their chambers.

"If you would care to take your ease here, Miss Crossmichael, you would be most
welcome. I will keep you from your schedule very little longer, but I have promised."

"We must always keep to our promises, my lord. No, I should be delighted to
accompany you all." She did not add that she wanted to see more of the girls' interactions with
their father, and his reactions, but as he was not deficient of understanding, she was certain he
knew her motives. And disliked them, for he wanted her to remain in the drawing room.

They trooped out and above stairs.

"I had thought you should all be in the nursery," the viscount said provocatively.

His words were met with groans and Portia was surprised by his teasing.

"But then I thought, no, they are all grown and as Sabina will be making her comeout
when you are next in residence, she shall have her own chamber and Mel and Penny can share. A
townhouse is not so very large you know--not like the Place where you may each have a room
without any trouble."

Portia remained silent as they mounted to the third floor, and the girls examined the
clean, airy chambers assigned to them. There were charming dressing tables in some light wood
already in place, and matching bedsteads with thick mattresses waiting only upon the occupants.
To her surprise the viscount took out a pocket book and, after commanding his daughters to state
their needs and wishes for colouring the walls and preparing soft furnishings, he took notes.
Finally, he tucked his pencil back into the folder and said, "We have taken long enough now, and
dusk is coming on. You must be away..."