Page 7 of Twice Shy
‘Then “Wallflower” would be appropriate. There are many debutantes who stand an awful lot.’ There was a very slight edge to Elizabeth’s voice, but Sir Lucius was not sufficiently acquainted with her to note it.
‘Very clever, Miss Ashling, though I am sure it has not been a role you have played.’ His compliment was a little ponderous, he would have acknowledged, but her response took him by surprise.
‘There are even less acceptable reasons to be returning for another Season, are there not?’ She did not hide her bitterness, thinking that he must have recalled how she had been jilted.
Both gentlemen looked blankly at her, and then at each other.
‘No insult was intended, ma’am.’ It was Sir Lucius’s turn to sound prickly.
‘And I am sure none was taken,’ interjected Lady44Godmanchester calmly, giving her friend a glance and tentative smile.
‘No, Sir Lucius, none taken.’ Elizabeth obeyed the unspoken plea, though her voice lacked conviction.
‘Well, despite having the problem of naming the filly solved, I think we will leave you ladies to tea.’ Lord Godmanchester decided withdrawing was the safest course. Once in the privacy of the study, Sir Lucius asked the obvious question.
‘Why did Miss Ashling rip up at me like that?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, my friend, none at all. The gentle sex are a mystery, even to the married.’
Elizabeth, meanwhile, was contrite. ‘Oh Helen, I am sorry. That was unforgivable. I can only apologise profusely. It is like touching a raw wound, even now, and I flinch.’
‘Does it still hurt your heart, or your dignity?’ Lady Godmanchester was perspicacious.
‘Oh, my dignity now. I do not pine for what might have been with Henry Freshford.’
‘But you have not met him yet?’
‘No, and that will be awkward, embarrassing perhaps, but I will not weep at it. It is the fear that memories will be revived.’
‘Well, Lucius Radstock knows nothing, and nor does my lord. I would vouch no gentleman will recall what happened, and it might be that the ladies have as short memories. It was the talk of but a few days.’
Elizabeth did not mention the second meeting with Lady Rendlesham.
45Upon her return to Mount Street, she found her aunt laid upon her bed to rally her strength for the evening’s entertainments. Meanwhile, her cousin, who felt no need to spend any part of the day in idleness, was at the pianoforte, working upon a sonatina that she hoped to have at a sufficient standard for public performance. Her fair brows were puckered, and the tip of her tongue protruded in concentration. She did not at first notice Elizabeth’s arrival.
‘It sounds well enough, Amelia, but if you have to pull such faces, I doubt it will stand you in good stead with youradmirers.’
‘Oh!’ Amelia jumped. ‘I am sorry, Elizabeth. I was trying so hard to get past these mordants. My fingers are tying themselves in knots, and I think the notes are starting to dance before my eyes.’
‘That is clearly a sign, Cousin, that you should abandon the exercise for the day and come and tell me about the visit to Lady Ellesmere. I shall ring for tea, and then you can begin.’
Lady Ellesmere was Amelia’s godmother, and a lady of whom Amelia had spent her early years in awe. She was always attired in the latest fashion, regardless of her figure, which was considerably larger than when she and Lady Chalford had been girlhood friends. Money was no object to her, since she was blessed with a wealthy and indulgent husband, who regarded her production of eight additions to the family tree, five of them sons, as a sound reason for her fuller figure, and never showed the slightest regret that the sylph-like maiden he had married had become ‘voluptuous’, nor queried her choice of raiment. Other than in a refusal to46dress her age, Lady Ellesmere was a sensible and pragmatic lady who viewed Amelia’s come-out in almost the same way as she might one of her own daughters, the eldest of whom was already settled in an establishment of her own, whilst the second would not make an appearance upon Society until the following spring.
‘Godmama was in very good spirits, and also very generous. She gave me a prodigiously pretty shawl of Norwich silk, and said she herself wished to take me out on Thursday afternoon and purchase me an Angoulême bonnet, which she says will look ravishing.’ Amelia giggled. ‘I am not sure that Mama regards my going shopping with Godmama as a good thing, but it might be the hat we saw the other day, which was monstrously expensive, so she agreed. Do you think I should refuse any other purchases she might choose to make, or should I accept nicely, and then let Mama decide whether or not I should wear them?’
‘The latter, since Lady Ellesmere might otherwise take offence. And to be fair, I do not think her taste is at fault, other than she cannot see that so many garments are designed to flatter the youthful figure, which she now lacks. She certainly did not deck Maria in unsuitable clothes when she came out, as I remember. Everything was very modest and suitable, though very expensively made. I think you will have a lovely outing, and return laden with packages. You will remember to make something very elaborate for Lady Ellesmere’s birthday, won’t you? You do the mostdelightful embroidery.’
‘Mama has already said exactly that.’ Amelia paused, and then changed the subject. ‘Oh, and she asked me to47remind you that it is the Durnfords’ this evening. I am not sure why she stressed it to me, but I am assuming it has some importance to you.’ She was clearly hoping that Elizabeth would reveal what that was, but her cousin merely thanked her.
When she went upstairs however, Elizabeth was looking very solemn. Lady Durnford was Syston’s sister. She must meet Henry and act as if nothing had ever happened between them. She sighed. She had dreaded it, but her aunt was right to make her face it early on. It was also far better to meet him fully prepared, rather than be thrown into confusion by a chance encounter. It did not, however, make it easier to contemplate.
48
CHAPTER FOUR
Elizabeth had not been able to rid herself of the questions revolving in her mind, even as she made her preparationsfor the evening. How different would he find her after three years passing? How would she compare with the woman he had chosen in her stead? Would he pretend they had never meant anything to each other? Had he told his wife all about her? She did not even know the lady’s maiden name. Perhaps she knew her. Aunt Chalford had kept all details from her when fresh, and she had never thought to find out later. She felt a little sick, and Ditcham worried at her pallor. She blamed it upon the particular shade of her gown, which brought a repetition of the complaint that it was too sombre a dress for such an occasion, and that her aunt would be displeased.
‘No more, Ditcham, please. The gown is perfectly suitable.’
