Despite Lady Mary's earlier disapprobation, Viscountess Catlin made a point of introducing the Comte l'Buc to her granddaughter. Abigail greeted him with more warmth than was necessary, even as she tossed a defiant glance in her mother's direction. When he requested her hand in a set, she very prettily accepted and was borne off on the arm of one that Lady Mary had no difficulty in classifying as a predator.
She looked at the viscountess, a distinctly chilly expression in her eyes. “What you have done is unpardonable, my lady. I shall thank you to withdraw your poisonous influence from my daughter's vicinity,” she said quietly.
Viscountess Catlin tossed her head, and for a split second Lady Mary saw the ghost of the arrogant, spoiled society beauty that her mother had once been."What vastly pretty sentiments, upon my word! I wish only the best for my granddaughter, as you would realize if you but put off your blinders, Mary! The Comte l'Buc is a most eligible
parti
and I do not at all regret bringing Abigail to his notice."
"The Comte l'Buc is a known philanderer and it is rumored that he is not above seducing young girls. Abigail is an innocent and you have tossed her straight into the jackal's jaws! But that is only the half of your foolishness, Mother,” Lady Mary said. “You have told naught but lies about Sir Roger and myself. You have seen fit to interfere in the relationship between myself and my daughter. I give you fair warning, my lady. I shall not stand idly by while you wreak havoc."
The viscount came up in time to overhear her last words. His brows rose in exaggerated astonishment. “What, Mary, do you object to your mother's efforts on Abigail's behalf? How odd, for I seem to recall that as a young girl you liked nothing better than her ... interference."
"That was a great many years ago and that naivety belonged to a very different being,” Lady Mary retorted. She was watching the set, and by the music she knew that it was coming to an end. “Pray excuse me. I must snatch my daughter out of her present peril. The
comte
shall not long wish to pay court to your granddaughter, I assure you!'’ She swept away, leaving behind the viscountess gasping in outrage.
An agony of apprehension and a scuffle of preparation had swept over Europe since Napoleon Bonaparte's triumphant entry into France. While the French army continued to rally regiment by regiment to Bonaparte, the dismay escalated among the English residents and holidaymakers in Brussels. Their precipitate flight on the twenty-fourth of March had been accompanied by scenes of undignified confusion and panic, and even though it subsequently became known that there was no foundation to the report of an early invasion of Belgium, and many people who had fled Brussels returned, the incident left a disquieting effect on the minds of the populace.
On April 5 the Duke of Wellington arrived from Vienna to take command of the allied forces. It was widely known that the number of French army already exceeded the allied forces, which would have to act on the defensive if Bonaparte chose to attack. Nevertheless, his grace's arrival was heralded with high relief and an upsurge of renewed optimism.
Lady Mary was as much affected by the times as anyone else, but she was far more concerned over the waywardness of her daughter. Since their falling-out ten days before, Abigail had scarcely spoken more than a dozen words to her. In addition, she had defied her mother's wishes on several occasions when Lady Mary indicated that she preferred Abigail not to attend gatherings that she suspected were not quite respectable. On those occasions Abigail merely turned to her grandmother, who invariably took Abigail's cause as her own and herself escorted Abigail to whatever functions she wished to attend.
Lady Mary recognized that she had lost control of her daughter. She knew from her own observations and the tactful hints dropped by several acquaintances that Abigail was behaving with a wildness that bordered on scandal even in a society that was bent on forgetting the black cloud rising across the frontier in France by indulging in every amusement that could be devised. She felt that her only recourse must be to remove her daughter from Brussels and return with her to England. But she feared that to make such an announcement to Abigail would only push her daughter straight into the viscountess's waiting arms. She had no doubt that if she were to try to take Abigail back to England before the Season was done, Viscountess Catlin would encourage Abigail to move into the Hotel d'Angleterre with herself and the viscount.
Lady Mary felt that her hands were completely tied, and that angered her to such an extent that she was scarcely able to remain civil to her mother. Her temper was not aided by the viscount's caustic observation that he had never seen Abigail in such high spirits, nor by the viscountess’ smug expression whenever they chanced to meet.
Lady Mary dreaded that the viscountess’ blind encouragement of Abigail's excesses was bound to lead to heartbreak for her daughter, but she could not think of any way to persuade Abigail of it. Whenever she tried to talk to her daughter, the girl refused to listen and accused her anew of petty jealousy and mean-spiritedness. Lady Mary's temper frayed on more than one occasion and she was unable to retain her mild manner. Her unfortunate tendency to cold hauteur overwhelmed her better judgment, with the result that the wedge between herself and her daughter was driven more firmly than ever into place.
William Spence was as alarmed as his mother by Abigail's behavior. He finally spoke up in the course of one of the balls given nightly by Lady Charlotte Greville when he could no longer stand to watch Abigail flirt outrageously with several officers. “Mama, can you not do something? Abby is beginning to be talked about by the fellows, and I do not care for it in the least."
"I have tried, William. But she will not listen to me. Your grandmother has firmly convinced her that I am jealous of her success and therefore determined to bring the Season to naught by dashing any hopes of a good match,'’ Lady Mary said, somewhat bitterly.
"What rot!” William exclaimed, astonished.
Lady Mary attempted a poor imitation of a laugh. “I cannot find it in my heart to altogether blame her. I
do
wish she would stay home from some of the functions, so I suppose one may say that I am in opposition to her. As for her conduct, I
have
told her that at times she has behaved in less than a ladylike fashion. But she does not hear the same criticism from anyone else, not from her score of admirers and certainly not from her grandparents. So what is she to think but that I am mean and disapproving?"
"She'll think somewhat differently when I am done with her,'’ William said grimly. He marched off, bearing down on his sister with determination. Within a very few seconds he had managed to extricate her from the other officers surrounding her by claiming a brother's prerogative to waltz with her.
Abigail was very happy to see her brother. She glanced up at him from under her lashes and said with a note of coquettishness that was new to her nature, “My, you
are
a handsome devil, William! I suspect that there are a dozen young misses heaving regretful sighs that you have chosen to dance with your sister rather than one of them. I pity the poor creatures, I truly do."
"Stop it, Abigail,” William said forcefully. “You are making a complete cake of yourself, I shall have you know."
She looked up at him in astonishment, her smiling mask slipping. “Whatever are you talking about, William?"
"I am talking about what a spectacle you have been making of yourself these past several days. Oh, don't look at me in such a hurt and innocent fashion. You know quite well what I am referring to."
Abigail's eyes flashed as she leapt to a hasty conclusion. “Mama has been talking to you, hasn't she? How infamous of her to appeal to you! Well, I shan't listen to anything she may have to say, William, and so you may inform her. She has been mean and—"
"Mama has not uttered one word of complaint to me,” William said furiously."You little fool! I have heard your name bandied about like that of some bawd's by those in my own company. Those same merry fellows that admired you are all fast changing their good opinion of you. And I shall tell you to your face that I do not like to hear my sister's charms compared with those of some fair Cyprian! The next thing I know, I shall have to fight a duel with some rude fellow and likely find myself killed before I ever get onto the battlefield!''
Abigail's face had drained of color, leaving the blue of her wide and fearful eyes the only color in her face. “William? Have I truly lost my reputation?"
William's fury was blunted by her incredulous dismay. “You have been playing hard and fast with more than you know, in the eyes of those officers here tonight, Abby,” he said frankly.
"Oh, William!” Distressed tears sprang to her cornflower-blue eyes, making them glisten like precious sapphires. “Whatever am I to do? Grandmama has always told me that one's reputation is one's most prized possession. How can I remain, the butt of everyone's jokes?” She glanced about the ballroom, no longer certain of her unquestioned popularity, and where before she had seen only admiration, now she fancied she saw contempt.
"Silly goose, you needn't make it so dramatic. You haven't quite crossed beyond the pale. But I beg you to pay less heed to Grandmama's advice! She is a dear old lady, of course, but she is completely blind to anything but her unshakable conviction that you can do no wrong. Her lack of good sense is likely to ruin you,” William said.
Abigail regarded him with openmouthed astonishment. “Why, that is just what Mama has said to me.” She had always held her brother in hero worship, and that he should convey the same criticism that her mother had struck her most strongly.
"I think it is time that you begin to lend our mother an attentive ear, Abby. She has always been a wise and fair person. Why, only recall that she allowed Grandpapa to buy me a pair of colors even though she was eaten with fear that I would get myself killed first time out."
Abigail thought about it for a few moments. She had been unhappy with the estrangement between herself and her mother, but until this moment she had not been honest enough with herself to allow that she was the party at greatest fault. She said in a low voice, “I ... I have been less than fair toward her, haven't I, William?"
William grinned down at her bowed head."Well, yes, I rather think you have. Why do you not tell her so now?"
Abigail cast a wild look up into his pleasant-featured face. “William, I cannot! William, pray...!” But her protestations were in vain, for her brother in the course of the dance whirled her over to where their mother sat.
William ended with a flourish. With his arm locked firmly about his sister's waist so that she could not slip free, he drew her with him toward their mother. “Mama, here is Abby. She has decided to sit with you a few moments so that she can explain her conduct these past days,” he said.
"How dare you!” Abigail exclaimed, furious and embarrassed. But William only laughed and bowed himself off, whistling a merry tune. She had no alternative but to accept the chair that her mother graciously indicated to her.
Lady Mary could see the turmoil of emotion within her daughter. Abigail's stormy eyes and high color, the trembling of her lips, all attested to it. She said tentatively, “I am sorry for any misunderstanding on my part, Abby. I hope that despite our differences we may become friends again."
"Oh, Mama!'’ Abigail looked at her mother with appeal and confusion in her gaze."I have been such a beast to you, I know that I have. And William says that I have gotten myself talked about.” She swallowed, almost made ill by the appalling thought. “Mama, what am I to do?"
Lady Mary somberly regarded her. “My dear child, I shall trust you to discover that for yourself. I know that your instincts are good. My only advice to you is not to put yourself forward at every juncture."
A young Highlander came up then, somewhat diffidently, and bowed to the ladies. “Forgive my boldness in approaching without an introduction, my lady,” he said gravely in a broad accent, addressing Lady Mary in respectful tones. “I have wished to meet your bonny daughter all the evening, but each time I have gotten up the courage, she is so surrounded by admirers that I have not been able to bring myself to her attention."
Lady Mary laughed, charmed alike by his frank manners and his laughing eyes. “I shall forgive you, sir, the moment that I learn your name."
He flushed slightly. “I am Captain Bruce McInnes, at your service."
"Why have we not seen you about before this evening, sir?” Lady Mary asked curiously. She had thought she knew very nearly all of Abigail's admirers, but she did not recall this particular officer's face.
"I am just recovered from a bout of the influenza, my lady,” Captain McInnes said apologetically.
Lady Mary held out her hand. “I am most happy to make your acquaintance. Captain McInnes. I am Lady Mary Spence and this is my daughter, Miss Abigail Spence."
Captain McInnes turned at last to Abigail."May I solicit your hand for this dance, Miss Spence?"
Abigail glanced at her mother. Their just-finished conversation had been an uncomfortable one and had ended on something of an unsatisfactory note. She had expected her mother to read her a stricture for her behavior, but instead Lady Mary had told her to be guided by her own best sense. Abigail was confused, but yet relieved. She did not yet know what her mother meant, but she was glad to be offered an opportunity to escape further reflection on the matter.
Lady Mary misinterpreted her daughter's questioning expression. “If you have not another partner on your card, my dear, I do not know of any reason that you cannot stand up with Captain McInnes."
On the point of refusing, it suddenly occurred to Abigail that Captain McInnes, having been out of circulation with the influenza, was most probably the only gentleman of her acquaintance who had not seen her make a fool of herself for the last several days. So she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Mama. There is no one else that I would prefer as my partner,” Abigail said demurely. She rose from her chair and gave her hand to the Highlander. He smiled at his amazing good fortune and drew her onto the floor into a forming set.