Double Masquerade Page 3

  “Perhaps it shall not be necessary. Perhaps I shall find we have interests in common,” Catherine countered, not best pleased at Woodforde’s remonstrance, mild as it was, for she had long been accustomed to his approbation. “And if we do not, can you say that any person presents his true self to a person they think of marrying? Do not all endeavour to show themselves talented and accomplished and interesting when courting, both man and woman?”

  “Yes,” Woodforde acknowledged, “but endeavouring to show the best of one’s self and trying to appear other than one’s self are not the same. The first is a natural desire to appear one’s best; the second is deceit.”

  “I think the line between the two not so easily drawn,” Catherine argued. “Is it not natural to desire to share interests with family and friends? Why, take your own interest in my hare, Lord Woodforde,” Catherine said triumphantly as inspiration struck. “You thought nothing of hares until you heard of Mr. Cowper’s writings from me.”

  “That is a palpable hit,” Woodforde acknowledged with a smile. “I can argue with you no more upon the subject.

  “But I have forgotten my errand in stopping this morning. I came to invite you and Lord Trevor and Lady Manning to take dinner with me at Woodforde Park today.”

  “Oh, I could not!” Catherine exclaimed, glancing toward the doorway through which she could see her father approaching. Anxious to refuse the invitation before her father accepted for her, she added, “I could not leave my poor hare today. He will require close care for some days yet, and I cannot trust him to the servants.”

  “You see what starts my daughter takes, Woodforde” Lord Trevor said with a smile as he entered the drawing room, overhearing his daughter’s last words to the marquess. Lord Trevor was in the vigour of his middle years; his figure as fit and trim of that of a much younger man. As with many of his age, he preferred the formality of dress and manner that had been prevalent in his youth, and scorned to wear the riding dress that had become acceptable attire for all but the most formal occasions unless he were actually riding. For morning he had donned a wide-cuffed blue coat and matching breeches, and wore shoes instead of boots.

  “Is this a new fashion, daughter,” Lord Trevor asked, noticing Catherine’s attire, “to appear in dishabille in the parlour before guests?”

  “No, father, I shall dress momentarily,” Catherine replied.

  “We shall forgive Miss Trevor’s appearance and eccentricities as we usually do, Lord Trevor,” Woodforde commented. “And although your daughter refuses my invitation to dine with me tonight, may I hope you and Lady Manning will favour me with your company nevertheless?”

  “I believe,” Lord Trevor answered, glancing at his daughter, who had gone to kneel by the hare’s box once again, “that it would be better for us to accept your invitation at a future time and for you to dine with us today, Woodforde. We have a fine leg of mutton which Cook knows just how to dress, and I have a bottle of excellent claret I have been saving to open with you.”

  “I shall look forward to it,” Woodforde accepted. “Until this evening, then. Good morning, Lord Trevor, Miss Trevor.”

  Lady Manning had difficulty persuading Catherine to leave her hare and attend to her correspondence and needlework later that morning, and succeeded only after pointing out that her niece’s constant hovering over the box might prevent the hare from eating and make him uncomfortable.

  “I do pray the leveret survives, aunt,” Catherine said as she reluctantly settled on the other side of the room with a piece of fancywork. “He is so very small and timid. I wish I might put fresh dressings on his wounds, but I fear to frighten him now he is conscious.”

  “I think it best to leave him alone to recover or not, as Providence wills,” Lady Manning replied. “Wild creatures have great powers of recuperation. Time and quiet are the best medicines in this case,” she finished with the wisdom of her threescore years.

  “Miss Louisa Ellsworth,” the footman announced from the parlour doorway as a dark-haired young woman clad in riding dress swept into the room. A tailored jacket worn over a high-necked shirt revealed a shapely form, and a full skirt enhanced the grace of her movements.

  “Lady Manning,” the visitor said with a curtsey after that lady bid her welcome, “Miss Trevor.” Pulling off her gloves she took a chair next to that of Lady Manning and fanned her skirts.

  “Miss Trevor, I think that shade of yellow does not flatter your pale complexion,” Miss Louisa commented as she scrutinized Catherine’s toilette. “I would suggest a softer shade than jonquil.”

  “Thank you for your advice, but I had only chosen to wear this old gown because I was not expecting guests,” Catherine replied, the more nettled because she knew Miss Louisa was correct about the colour.

  “One should always expect guests,” Miss Louisa admonished, and then turned to Lady Manning. “I have such news that I came to share with you this morning. The Marquess of Edgecombe is to spend the hunting season at Ellsworth Hall.” She looked her triumph at the two older women.

  “That is news indeed,” Lady Manning agreed, politely not letting on that the information was already known to them. “Lord Ellsworth and Mr. Ellsworth will enjoy such distinguished company for the August shooting.”

  “Yes, but of course shooting birds and coursing hares alone will not be enough to entertain the marquess. We shall be quite gay while Lord Edgecombe is at Ellsworth Hall—balls, of course, and I am determined to persuade Papa to a masquerade. You will receive invitations, naturally, and will, I am sure, wish to hold an entertainment here at Rosemont in Lord Edgecombe’s honour.”

  “The rose gardens will be past their prime in late August and September,” Lady Manning mused, “but perhaps Lord Trevor will agree to a dinner, after which the guests may wander through the rose gardens and enjoy our later-flowering bushes.”

  “That would be eminently suitable,” Louisa agreed, and as she glanced over to Catherine to see her reaction to the news her attention was caught by the box on the far side of the parlour. “Miss Trevor, why do you have a box in your parlour?” she asked, rising to investigate.

  Catherine stood and interposed herself between her guest and the box, fearing the recovering hare might be disturbed by a strange presence. “It is an injured hare,” she explained. “Please do not stand too close or touch him, as it might frighten him.”

  “Touch it!” Louisa exclaimed, backing away from the box, her nose wrinkling with distaste. “Lud! I have no desire to touch vermin. I know Lord Trevor does not keep his own hounds, but you must borrow some of Papa’s to rid your land if you are overrun with hares. They should be in your cooking pot, not your parlour,” she ended with a laugh at her own wit.

  “I really must go now,” Louisa added, giving Catherine a kiss on each cheek before taking her leave of Lady Manning, “but I wished to share my good news that you might have something to look forward to this summer. I know that at your years you do not have many visitors save your family and friends, Miss Trevor,” she added with a condescending nod to Catherine, “but we shall include our dear neighbors in every entertainment at Ellsworth Hall while Lord Edgecombe is here, never fear.

  “Lady Manning, Miss Trevor. I wish you good-day,” Louisa said formally, and, curtseying to the older woman once again, she swept toward the parlour doors, which were promptly opened by the waiting footman.

  “If I had not already determined to bring Lord Edgecombe to an offer, I would now,” Catherine muttered darkly as she sat back down and picked up her fancywork as Louisa’s steps faded down the hall. “One would think I was a half-score years older than Miss Louisa Ellsworth instead of a half-dozen.”

  “You know what Miss Louisa Ellsworth’s character is, and should not allow her words to disturb you,” Lady Manning reproved mildly. “You always allow her words to provoke you and it only encourages her to more. And you must confess it will be enjoyable to participate in the entertainments that must accompany the arrival of an eminent gues
t.”

  “Someone always has a guest for hunting season and we are always included in any balls and dinners, for if we do not invite all our neighbors there are not enough guests,” Catherine argued.

  “Yes, but you must grant that Lord and Lady Ellsworth do not stint in any way and present one of the best tables for their guests.”

  “There needs to be some inducement to coax the guests to come,” Catherine rejoined, “or Ellsworth Hall would be thin of company with Mr. Ellsworth’s foppery and Miss Louisa Ellsworth’s airs and shrewish tongue.”

  “Catherine!” Lady Manning admonished. “Mr. Ellsworth is gentlemanly despite his fashion eccentricities, and Miss Ellsworth is gracious, if her younger sister is not. Not to mention that Lord and Lady Ellsworth have always been good neighbors.” But a twinkle in Lady Manning’s eye told Catherine she did not disagree with her niece’s assessment of the two younger Ellsworth children.

  “Perhaps,” Catherine allowed. “I suppose in truth I simply do not understand why Miss Louisa Ellsworth seems to dislike me so. I hardly saw her as a child for she was always in London with her aunt. It is only since she has returned to live here after her London Season that she appears to have taken me in such dislike. Do you think it is because I have not encouraged her brother’s suit?”

  “That may be part of the reason,” Lady Manning acknowledged, “but I believe it is more that she sees you as a rival for the attentions of other gentlemen. As you have observed, there are not that many eligible partis in the vicinity of Moreton. Do not forget that Miss Louisa failed to make a match during her season in London, and it no doubt annoys her to see you at your advanced age refusing not one suitor, but many.”

  A half-hour before dinner, Lord Trevor, his sister, and daughter awaited their guest’s arrival in the parlour. Lord Trevor had donned a powdered wig with side curls and a queue for the company, and looked every inch the viscount in his gold-laced coat, white silk stockings, and gold-buckled shoes. Lady Manning had chosen a becoming purple silk gown with a matching turban, and even Catherine had taken some pains with her dress, selecting a becoming India muslin of primrose, although she did not consider Lord Woodforde a true guest. The intercourse between the families had been too easy for too many years for him to merit the distinction.

  A noise at the parlour door attracted Catherine’s attention and she looked up to see Lord Woodforde holding fast to a basket the footman was trying to take from him. The marquess had abandoned his usual riding dress and appeared to his best advantage in silk stockings and breeches, a ruffled shirt and striped waistcoat under a wide-cuffed dress coat. Although Lord Woodforde eschewed a wig, the thick brown hair had been powdered before being clubbed with a black velvet ribbon, and he appeared a remarkably fine gentleman.

  Lord Trevor rose to greet his guest with a bow. “Woodforde. I see you are distressing my servants by insisting on carrying your own basket.”

  Lord Woodforde returned the bow, swept into a second for Lady Manning and Catherine, and approached the latter, holding out his basket. “I hope the distress I have caused your servants will be offset by the pleasure I hope the contents of the basket will bring your daughter, Lord Trevor.

  “Miss Trevor, I have brought you a selection of fruits from my conservatory in hopes you might tempt your hare to eat them,” the marquess explained.

  Catherine eagerly took the basket and looked under the cover. “Strawberries! And peaches! Thank you, Lord Woodforde. It is of all things kind.” Selecting the most tempting of the fruits, she placed them on the floor of the hare’s box. The hare’s nose wiggled and his ears moved forward over his head as he stretched his neck toward the fruit. Despite Catherine’s hovering presence, he cautiously nibbled at a strawberry. Appearing to like the taste, he took a larger bite, and at the third bite the strawberry disappeared.

  “He ate it!” Catherine exclaimed sotto voce to Lord Woodforde. She selected two more strawberries from the basket and placed them on the bottom of the box before retreating to the other side of the room.

  “Do you intend to keep the leveret, Miss Trevor, or return him to the woodland?” Lord Woodforde asked as he and Catherine took chairs across from Lady Manning and Lord Trevor.

  “I do not know,” Catherine confessed. “It must depend upon how well he recovers. I cannot like to keep any animal against its will, yet Mr. Cowper wrote that his hares enjoyed their home with him.”

  “I would have fears—since he is so young—that the hare would not have proper fear of humans should you release him after his recovery,” Lord Woodforde offered his opinion. “A wild animal who has lost his fear of his natural enemies cannot live long in his natural habitation.”

  “That is but logical,” Lord Trevor agreed.

  “I had not considered that,” Catherine admitted. “I suppose then, that I must keep him here at Rosemont.”

  “You will need a bigger box, daughter, if you plan to keep the hare” Lord Trevor opined. “And you must find a place for it other than the parlour. Perhaps your dressing room would be more appropriate.”

  “I enjoy a bit of carpentry,” Lord Woodforde stated. “Please allow me to construct a dwelling for your hare such as Mr. Cowper describes in his piece, Miss Trevor. Then you will have a place he may stay nights and you may still allow him freedom in the daytime if you choose.”

  “Would you?!” Catherine exclaimed in gratitude, “Thank you, Lord Woodforde, it is exceedingly kind,” she said with a smile that lit her face and made her appear a half-score years younger than her twenty-nine years.

  “I would suggest that when the hare is recovered enough you remove him to the walled garden for the remainder of the summer,” Lady Manning recommended. “He would be protected there while the days are still mild, and you can accustom him to your presence so that when it becomes cooler he will not fear moving to your dressing room.”

  “An excellent suggestion,” Lord Trevor agreed.

  “It is indeed, Aunt Manning,” Catherine agreed. “There are lettuces and other vegetables and plants in the garden he may dine upon should he choose, and I may lock the garden for his protection.”

  Dinner was announced, and the four friends entered the dining room. After the soup a fine leg of mutton was set before Lord Trevor’s place at the head of the table, and the covers of the dishes of salmon, fowl, bread, and vegetables scattered elsewhere on the tabletop were removed. The servants stood by the wall, ready to remove and replace any serving dishes that became depleted.

  “Do you know,” Lord Woodforde said to Catherine as Lord Trevor carved the mutton, “it has occurred to me that you might consider inviting Mr. Cowper to address one of our Blue Stocking Society meetings. We do not yet have a speaker for our August meeting, do we?”

  “That is an excellent thought!” Catherine agreed. “I shall consult with the other members, and if they also agree I shall write to invite him.”

  “I do not understand how you tolerate being the only man in a group of women,” Lord Trevor commented to his guest as he finished carving and sat down.

  Lord Woodforde smiled as he helped himself to a thick slice of the mutton. “It has its compensations. And while I may be the only male member of our local society, there are many men who are members of the larger Blue Stocking Society. Any teasing it occasions me is more than made up for by the excellent speakers I have been able to hear. There is no comparable group of men who make the effort to invite agriculturists and poets and architects to speak at their meetings. It has been a most informative experience, and I am much indebted to Miss Trevor for thinking to begin a branch of the Blue Stocking Society in Moreton.”

  “Will you be inviting Lord Edgecombe to the meetings?” Lady Manning asked her niece.

  “Indeed not!” Catherine replied, a frown gathering. “At least not until I have sounded his views on the society. Although most gentlemen approve our aims and enjoy attending our meetings, not all do.”

  “Lord Edgecombe?” Lord Trevor inquired.

/>   “Oh, I have not told you, Papa,” Catherine said, putting down her fork as she explained. “Lord Edgecombe is to arrive at Ellsworth Hall in August for the beginning of the shooting, and plans to remain some weeks or months. Miss Louisa Ellsworth came this morning to tell us of his impending arrival and to suggest we might hold an entertainment in his honour.”

  “Edgecombe,” Lord Trevor muttered as he reached for a dish of sweetbreads. “Ah, I recall, he has but recently acceded to the marquessate. I seem to remember he is a great sportsman; no doubt that is behind his plans to visit Ellsworth Hall, for so is Ellsworth.”

  “Do you know aught else of the marquess?” Catherine asked her father.

  “Not that I recall. We shall find out soon enough if he arrives in August. No doubt we shall have to attend the entertainments at Ellsworth Hall,” Lord Trevor finished with a sigh, for, unlike most gentlemen of his class, he much preferred home pursuits to social gaming, hunting, and toping. “As for holding a ball or dinner here, I leave that to you, Catherine, and to you, dear sister. I have no interest in organizing such frivolities.

  “You are fortunate Woodforde,” he added, turning to the marquess, “that since you have no sisters or aunts who reside with you, no one expects you to hold large entertainments at Woodforde Park.”

  “Perhaps,” Woodforde acknowledged as he cut into a pork loin, “yet there are times I miss company. A man becomes lonely with only his own society at meals.”

  “Could you not have your daughter live at Woodforde Park and receive her lessons from a governess?” Catherine suggested. “You have a housekeeper who would be enough of a chaperone for a governess to live there.”

  “So Anne pleads at times,” Woodforde admitted. “But I do not care to have my daughter raised with no feminine society save that of a governess and housekeeper. Andrews, although an excellent housekeeper, is yet a bit stern for a girl of nine years.”

  “You must find yourself a wife,” Lady Manning said with a significant glance at Catherine, who flushed and looked studiously at her plate.