PoetsandPromises Read online

  “Perhaps. I do not know,” Elisabeth answered her eager maid.

  Molly proved correct in her surmise, for the post-chaise soon rolled to a stop before one of the street’s town houses. The postillion jumped down to announce their arrival, the front door opening at his approach. A liveried footman accompanied the postillion back to the post-chaise, the steps were let down and Elisabeth was handed from the chaise. The time is here, she thought, looking up at the cold, though elegant, residence. Gathering her courage, Elisabeth climbed the three short steps to the front door and, stepping over the threshold, entered a black-and-white tiled hallway.

  “This way, Miss Ashwood,” a liveried servant said, opening a door to what Elisabeth supposed was a drawing room. “If you will wait here I will inform Lady Parker of your arrival.”

  A lower servant intercepted Molly as she followed behind Elisabeth and led the maid off in a different direction as her mistress entered the drawing room. Alone, Elisabeth looked around the room in wonder. It was filled with modern mahogany furniture, much of it inlaid with brass. An earthy smell rose from the profusion of jardinières filled with potted plants. Strange brass ornaments—figures of elephants and other exotic animals and odd-looking idols—sat on tables and brackets. A sweet scent overlaid the earthy one of the plants as curls of smoke rose from a small brass burner and slowly dissipated through the room. Feeling almost as though she had stepped into a different world, Elisabeth cautiously took a seat on one of the low-backed gilded mahogany chairs.

  As Elisabeth settled her skirts around her, quick steps sounded in the hallway and a moment later a woman of medium height with dark eyes and fair hair showing from under a cap of fine lawn entered the room. Although the woman might not have been considered beautiful, Elisabeth found the contrast of the woman’s fair hair and dark eyes very striking,

  “Miss Ashwood, I am Lady Parker,” the woman said, smiling warmly. “Welcome to my home. I trust the journey was not too fatiguing?”

  “Lady Parker,” Elisabeth said, rising from her seat and giving a curtsey. “Thank you, my journey was very pleasant.”

  “Will you take tea? I always find tea revives me after a journey. And please sit down.”

  “Thank you,” Elisabeth agreed, sinking back down into her seat and daring to scrutinize Lady Parker more closely as her hostess turned to ring the bell. Lord Sherbourne’s sister was apparently older than Elisabeth had first thought, for fine lines were visible at the corners of her eyes and mouth when her face was in repose. Still, Elisabeth thought Lady Parker was of exceptionally fine appearance in a dress of an unusual, brightly striped silk, accented with equally unusual gold jewelry.

  “My brother, Lord Sherbourne, will not come to meet you until tomorrow,” Lady Parker informed Elisabeth as a maidservant entered with a tea service which she placed on a low brass-rimmed table. “That was not his wish, so please do not think him discourteous,” she added with a sparkle in her eyes. “I thought you would prefer to rest after your long journey before meeting him, so I took the liberty of so ordering things. My brother resides only a short distance away on Curzon Street, so it is convenient for both of us. Milk?” she inquired as the maid left and Lady Parker prepared to serve their tea.

  “Thank you,” Elisabeth said with a smile, both charmed and a bit overwhelmed by her unconventional hostess.

  “When I returned from India I did not bring my furnishings from there so I either had to purchase all new furnishings here or take a townhome already furnished,” Lady Parker said conversationally as she handed Elisabeth her cup and then poured herself one. “The current taste for gilt furniture and brass decorations reminds me a bit of my home so…” Lady Parker made a graceful gesture indicating the room with its profusion of ornaments.

  “Your home, Lady Parker?” Elisabeth inquired.

  “Yes, I think of India as home still,” Lady Parker replied with a rather wistful expression. “I went out with my brother thirteen years ago—for the adventure—and it became my home. I must confess it seems odd to be back in England—it is so gray and cold. I daresay I shall become accustomed to it again but for the time being my position here is not dissimilar to yours—I also am a stranger in London.” Lady Parker smiled at Elisabeth, understanding in her dark brown eyes.

  “Miss Ashwood, please allow me to be frank,” Lady Parker continued. “This cannot be the easiest situation for you, nor is it for me. We shall both be having a first Season here in London later this spring, I as a chaperone—for which I feel dolefully unqualified —and you as a young lady making your come-out.”

  Elisabeth smiled back, feeling herself warming toward her hostess. She was about to respond when she heard a meow and turned to see a long-haired cat entering the room, head and tail held high.

  “What an enchanting cat!” she exclaimed. “So unusual with that long fur, but so beautiful!”

  Lady Parker laughed as the cat jumped on the back of the sofa and arched her back for Lady Parker to stroke. “She is my tie to home. She and my cook were the only ones who accompanied me from India, although Revati here was actually from Paris to begin with. My other servants declined to leave their warm home for the cold shores of England. I do not know how I could have done without my cook, for I confess I developed a taste for many of the foods of India. My cook cannot make them correctly with the ingredients available in London, of course, but she does her best. Try one of these sweets,” she urged Elisabeth, offering her a plate of paste-like squares.

  Curious, Elisabeth took one and bit into it cautiously. The texture was more pleasing than she had expected and it was of a flavor both sweet and vaguely spicy. “It is very good,” she said in surprise.

  “That is made with almonds and cardamom. I am so glad you have an adventurous spirit,” Lady Parker laughed. “You will find one necessary in my household. But we can talk more later, I am sure that now you would like to rest and remove the stains of travel.”

  “I would indeed, Lady Parker,” Elisabeth replied gratefully as her hostess reached for the bellpull. “I find the journey was more fatiguing than I expected.”

  “Please show Miss Ashwood to her room,” Lady Parker instructed the footman who came in answer to the summons.

  “I shall have supper served in your room tonight that you may rest without the necessity of dressing for dinner, Miss Ashwood, but I shall look forward to becoming better acquainted with you tomorrow,” Lady Parker said as Elisabeth stood to leave.

  “Thank you, Lady Parker. I too shall look forward to becoming better acquainted tomorrow,” Elisabeth replied. She followed the footman upstairs to her bedchamber, feeling rather bemused. Lady Parker was nothing like she had imagined she would be. As Elisabeth entered the bedchamber she had been given Molly turned from the trunk she was unpacking.

  “I am to sleep in your dressing room, miss, for now. Isn’t the room beautiful? And look, miss,” Molly added in wonder, going over to the large mahogany wardrobe and opening the door. “This wardrobe has a rod for me to hang your gowns instead of folding them, so they don’t get wrinkled.”

  Elisabeth smiled at her maid’s delight in the wardrobe and surveyed the rest of the room. Like the drawing room, the furniture was mahogany, gilded and inlaid with brass. No comfort had been left out, from latticed breakfast cupboard to washstand, chairs and a bench at the foot of the bed. Most delightful was the charming bed itself, which was covered with brightly colored curtains which hung over it in tentlike fashion. Lady Parker was indeed a gracious and kind hostess, Elisabeth mused. She only hoped the brother she was to meet on the morrow was as kind and thoughtful as his sister.

  Chapter Two

  Impatiently, Sherbourne tossed a third neckcloth to the floor of his dressing room. His valet handed him a fourth, his impassive expression giving no hint of his inner perturbation at his master’s unusual ineptness.

  “Dash it, I must be more nervous at the thought of meeting Miss Ashwood than I realized,” Sherbourne said wryly to Earlywine, who
reclined in a chair, watching his friend’s sartorial struggles with amusement. “I cannot manage to make the simplest knot with these stiff cravats. At the station it was too hot and humid to bother with starch.”

  “Tie it in the maharatta as you usually do instead of attempting a more complicated knot,” Earlywine suggested.

  “I am grateful you are accompanying me to my sister’s this morning,” Sherbourne continued as he took his friend’s advice and wrapped the fourth cravat around his neck in the simpler maharatta style. “I feel the need of support.”

  “Must confess I am nearly as curious to make Miss Ashwood’s acquaintance as you are,” James admitted. “You will need to remove that frown before we get there though —you are supposed to be pleased to meet your betrothed.”

  “Do I look that formidable?” Sherbourne inquired as his valet assisted him into his morning coat. The viscount spared himself a brief glance into the cheval mirror. Buff trousers tucked into the new Wellington boots, well-fitting blue morning coat, plain waistcoat and simply tied cravat. Although Sherbourne knew he did not have the casual elegance that James achieved without the least effort, he felt he appeared neat and gentlemanly, if rather more weathered than his friend. Years in India tended to have that effect upon a man.

  “I shall depend upon your aid to supply any lack of polish in my manner, Earlywine,” Sherbourne confessed as they descended the stairs to the hall, where they donned their greatcoats. “I am no longer accustomed to the drawing rooms of London.”

  “Do m’best,” James agreed as the butler handed them their hats, and the friends exited into the chill February morning.

  Elisabeth made an early breakfast of tea and bread in her bedchamber, too nervous to sample any of the more unusual delicacies the maid had brought. Today was the day she would meet the man she was to marry. Meet him as an adult, that was. She doubted he would have much likeness to the young gentleman of fourteen years past. She sighed. How could things change so rapidly in one’s life? How could one be going on in a settled and happy routine with family and friends one month and be uprooted and sent to spend the rest of one’s life with strangers the next?

  “Which gown did you wish to wear, Miss Elizabeth?” Molly asked, interrupting Elisabeth’s thoughts.

  “I think perhaps my day dress of dark orange and yellow stripes,” Elisabeth answered after a moment, feeling that, although out-of-fashion, both the colors and the crisscross styling of the bodice were the most flattering of the morning gowns she owned. She needed the confidence that knowing she looked well would give.

  Molly assisted her mistress into the chosen gown and then arranged Elisabeth’s soft brown hair into neat coils at the sides of her face.

  “You look that fine, miss,” Molly assured Elisabeth as her mistress viewed the results of her toilette in the glass.

  “As fine as I may appear, I grant,” Elisabeth agreed, noting how the dark earth-colored tones of her gown brought out the russet tones in her light brown hair. “I look well enough but I am no beauty, nor ever have been,” she sighed.

  “That’s as may be, miss,” Molly responded, “but you are a lady through and through and that’s more than can be said for some beauties.”

  Her confidence bolstered by her maid’s genuine compliment, Elisabeth ventured out of her bedchamber and found her way to the drawing room. Lady Parker was already situated at her desk, close to a cheerful fire. Elisabeth was again struck by her hostess’s unusual beauty, a beauty enhanced by the brightly colored fabrics she appeared to prefer for her gowns.

  “Good morning, Lady Parker,” Elisabeth greeted her hostess.

  “Good morning, Miss Ashwood,” Lady Parker rejoined. Lady Parker’s cat, who had been curled up on the sofa, rose and sauntered over to Elisabeth, rubbing against her skirts and purring. Elisabeth reached down to stroke the silky fur.

  “You are honored, Miss Ashwood. Revati does not bestow her attention upon many people,” Lady Parker said, smiling at Elisabeth’s obvious admiration of the cat.

  “Revati? Is that an Indian name?”

  “Yes, in their myths Revati was the wife of a star. Usually the name is given because of the connotation it has with wealth. I chose it because of the wealth of beautiful fur she has, and the wealth of company she has brought me. Did you leave any belovedanimals behind at Thornhill?”

  “My horse and my favorite milk cow, Daisy,” Elisabeth admitted as she ceased stroking the cat and took a seat near the window.

  “I do not think your milk cow would be happy in the city, but perhaps your horse might be sent to Longwood.

  “You are looking pale, Miss Ashwood,” Lady Parker added in a concerned tone. “Did you not sleep well? Come sit closer to the fire.”

  “Thank you, Lady Parker, I am quite well,” Elisabeth protested. “It is only that—” She began and stopped, a blush suffusing her cheeks.

  “I understand,” Lady Parker said gently. “It is not an easy situation for you and this morning must be the most difficult, meeting again a person you have not seen for many years. I am partial to my brother, of course, so my opinion cannot be considered objective, but let me assure you, Miss Ashwood, that Richard is truly steady and reliable and has no vices such as excessive gaming or drinking.”

  Elisabeth’s agitation did not visibly decrease with the assurance and Lady Parker continued to talk, trying to ease her guest’s nervousness with light chatter. “I believe Sherbourne plans to arrive fairly early this morning so you may meet with privacy before the morning calls begin this afternoon. Strange, is it not, that morning calls begin after the noon hour? I suppose it began because everyone sleeps so late after staying up after midnight during the Season that afternoons have become mornings.”

  Elisabeth murmured indistinct replies as Lady Parker chatted on. Revati, desiring more attention, jumped into Elisabeth’s lap. Finding the cat’s presence oddly reassuring, Elisabeth began stroking her again, eliciting a rumbling purr.

  The drawing room door opened. “Lord Sherbourne, Mr. Earlywine,” the butler announced, standing aside for them to enter.

  Elisabeth’s breath quickened and she glanced up swiftly before returning her gaze to the cat, receiving a quick impression of two gentlemen attired similarly in morning coats, trousers and shiny boots, one with curly brown hair and the other with fair hair and darker skin. The latter must be Lord Sherbourne, she concluded. He was much older-looking than she remembered, of course, his hair lighter and his skin darker, no doubt a result of years of exposure to the Indian sun.

  Lady Parker rose and advanced to her guests. “Mr. Earlywine, I am pleased to see you. Miss Ashwood, my brother Lord Sherbourne, and his friend, Mr. Earlywine.”

  “Miss Ashwood,” Lord Sherbourne greeted Elisabeth. “I trust you have recovered from the fatigues of your journey?”

  “Yes, thank you, Lord Sherbourne.” Elisabeth replied briefly, feeling too nervous to expand upon her answer, but was saved by Mr. Earlywine’s easy manners.

  “Miss Ashwood, I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” James said with a warm smile that was reflected in his blue eyes. “I see you have made a friend already,” he added, gesturing toward Revati, still curled purring in Elisabeth’s lap. “You are honored. Revati does not bestow her attentions on everyone.”

  “So Lady Parker tells me,” Elisabeth responded, instantly feeling at ease with the friendly Mr. Earlywine. “I think she knows how beautiful I find her.”

  “Cats always recognize those who find them beautiful,” James agreed.

  Envying his friend’s easy assurance, Lord Sherbourne took a seat on the sofa. He was surprised to find himself somewhat at a loss. This first meeting was not going quite as he had expected. He had expected Miss Ashwood to be quiet, eyes downcast, shy even, but also grateful. In appearance she was not unlike the miniature—soft brown hair and gray eyes, expression grave and sweet, but there was a stubbornness and resolution about her chin that he had not expected and she certainly showed no sign of be
ing grateful for his offer of marriage. What had he expected? he asked himself wryly. That she would gaze at him adoringly in gratitude for saving her from a life of spinsterhood?

  “How do you find London, Miss Ashwood?” Sherbourne asked as James took a seat on the sofa, feeling a fool for failing to manage anything but the most common civilities.

  “I have not been here long enough to form an opinion, Lord Sherbourne,” Elisabeth replied.

  “London is thin of company at this time of year,” James said conversationally, once again stepping into the breach, “but I trust you will find things to enjoy. What pastimes give you pleasure, Miss Ashwood?”

  “Reading, riding, conversing with my friends Reverend Fairacre and his wife, and music,” Elisabeth answered frankly. “Simple pleasures.”

  “No balls, Miss Ashwood, or fashions? They are all my sisters speak of.”

  “We are not so often gay in the country, Mr. Earlywine. Occasionally we attend balls, and we do try to keep up with fashion but we have only a small draper’s shop in the town so our selection of fabrics is limited,” Elisabeth replied at length, responding to Earlywine’s friendliness. “Do you have many sisters, Mr. Earlywine?”

  “Three—the plague of my life,” James answered, his fond look belying his words. “Have you sisters, Miss Ashwood?”

  “No, only a younger brother, now away at public school.”

  “Which school does he attend, Miss Ashwood?”

  “Eton.”

  “Eton! That is where Sherbourne and I were. We’ve been friends since.”

  Elisabeth smiled, clearly pleased to learn her brother was attending the same school as had Lord Sherbourne and Earlywine.

  “If you enjoy reading, Miss Ashwood,” Lord Sherbourne interposed, thinking to please his intended by discussing her first-mentioned pastime, “perhaps you will enjoy having a subscription to the circulating library. I understand it has all the most recent novels.”