PoetsandPromises Page 7

  Chapter Five

  Peering around one of the profusion of potted palms that had been placed about the ballroom, Elisabeth observed the company that was gathered for Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball. Guests milled about the room, some standing and exchanging greetings, others settling into the chairs that had been placed around the perimeter of the room. The elaborately trimmed ball gowns most of the women wore looked quite fine en masse, although Elisabeth still preferred the simpler styles for herself. It appeared that Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball was set to be a success, Elisabeth decided, although she supposed she was not the best judge given that this was the first London ball she had attended. She turned to Lady Parker, who was seated beside her.

  “I think Miss Earlywine looks very fine,” she commented, thinking how comely the pretty, slightly plump young woman had appeared in her white ball gown trimmed in blue fabric ruching. A matching blue fabric sash tied at the front of the high waist and Miss Earlywine’s merry blue eyes and light brown hair reminded Elisabeth strongly of her brother James.

  “Yes, she looks charmingly,” Lady Parker agreed. “And there is quite a crush for a ball held so early in the Season. Lady Earlywine will be pleased.”

  “Miss Earlywine is not the only one who is charming. I am convinced I am sitting with two of the most exquisitely dressed ladies at the ball,” Sherbourne said gallantly from his place to the other side of his sister. Lady Parker was looking exceptionally fine in a simple lavender silk gown, a matching bandeau around her fair hair and a necklace of beautifully cut amethysts encircling her graceful neck.

  “The country dances will begin before long,” Sherbourne added to Elisabeth. “I hope you will do me the honor of partnering me for the first set, Miss Ashwood?”

  “Thank you, Lord Sherbourne,” Elisabeth agreed, pleased. She knew she was looking her best in her new ball gown of white muslin, accented with a fine white lace stole, her soft brown hair arranged in curls at the side of her face. White was the one color a person with plain medium-brown hair could wear to advantage, Elisabeth thought, so it was fortunate that convention demanded young women making their debut confine themselves to that color for ball gowns. Lady Parker had also insisted on lending Elisabeth a simple but beautiful necklace of pearls and Elisabeth felt that she had never appeared to better advantage.

  When Sherbourne led Elisabeth out to join the set on the dance floor a few minutes later, taking their places about a fourth of the way down the line, Elisabeth felt she had never been happier. She was enjoying the evening far more than she had thought she would and did not feel in the least out of place. Her pique at Lord Sherbourne’s admiration of the artist Evonne Thibeau had vanished, leaving her slightly ashamed of her jealousy. The set began and Elisabeth flashed a happy smile at Lord Sherbourne as the first couple marched down the center of the line, followed by the couples in their turn.

  Lord Sherbourne restored Elisabeth to Lady Parker’s side after the long set ended but Elisabeth had no time to rest before she was asked to stand up with a Mr. Bayfield, whom Lady Ellsworth presented to Lady Parker as a suitable partner for her protégé. Mr. Earlywine claimed Elisabeth’s hand for the third set.

  “Miss Earlywine’s come-out bids fair to be a success,” Elisabeth commented to James. “She must be quite pleased.”

  “She is indeed,” Earlywine acknowledged. “‘Melia had feared it was too early in the Season for a good turnout but I told her that this early in the Season there were fewer entertainments, so the ones there were would have more guests.

  “Have you seen Miss Thibeau yet this evening, Miss Ashwood?” James continued, changing the topic. “Do you recall the artist we met at the park? I discovered she is the niece of the Comtesse de Fleurille, and asked my mother to send them an invitation.”

  Miss Thibeau. A chill crept over Elisabeth and all her pleasure in the evening vanished. “No, Mr. Earlywine, I have not noticed Miss Thibeau, but there is such a crush one might easily miss one guest amongst the crowd.” She forced herself to answer politely, despite her dismay at the information that Miss Thibeau might attend the ball.

  When James returned Elisabeth to Lady Parker at the end of the set, Elisabeth felt unaccountably tired.

  “Might I bring you a glass of ratafia?” Lord Sherbourne offered. “It might offer you some refreshment.”

  “Thank you, Lord Sherbourne,” Elisabeth accepted. She fanned herself idly, watching his tall figure cross the ballroom floor to obtain her ratafia, when she saw him stop to speak to someone. Thinking the dark-haired woman he was speaking to looked familiar. Elisabeth looked at her more closely and realized it was Miss Thibeau. She had come!

  “Lady Parker, Miss Ashwood, good evening.” A well-modulated voice addressed them, diverting Elisabeth’s attention from Lord Sherbourne and Miss Thibeau.

  “I have come to sit out a dance with you, Lady Parker,” The Duke of Norland continued after they acknowledged his greeting. “You do remember your promise?”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Lady Parker admitted. “Please sit down,” she added, indicating the chair Lord Sherbourne had vacated.

  As Lady Parker and the duke conversed in quiet tones Elisabeth consulted her dance card. The next dance was the first waltz of the evening. It was the dance she had been looking forward to more than any other, for no other dance allowed one to hold one’s partner as closely and she had a secret desire to be so held in Lord Sherbourne’s arms. It appeared that he had entirely forgotten her ratafia, but surely Lord Sherbourne would return and ask her to partner him for the waltz? They were, after all, betrothed—even though it was not announced. Elisabeth watched him anxiously as he conversed with Miss Thibeau and an older woman she assumed was the comtesse. The set ended and to Elisabeth’s dismay she saw Lord Sherbourne take the floor with Miss Thibeau. Stricken, Elisabeth tried to hide her expression behind a rapidly fluttered fan but not before her companions had noticed it.

  “Miss Ashwood, would you do me the honor of partnering me for the waltz?” the Duke of Norland requested, rising and holding out his gloved hand.

  With an effort, Elisabeth blinked back tears of disappointment and smiled at the duke. “Thank you, Your Grace, I would be honored.”

  As Elisabeth took the floor with the duke she forced herself to smile and concentrate on getting through the waltz creditably. She could not have had a better partner, for the duke danced with elegant ease and assurance. But Elisabeth’s mind was on another couple and each time Lord Sherbourne and Miss Thibeau circled near them she could not help covertly watching and her heart sank to see the smiles on their faces. So focused on Lord Sherbourne was Elisabeth that she missed seeing how many eyes were on herself and her noble partner. At last the waltz ended and the duke escorted Elisabeth back to Lady Parker. Lord Sherbourne joined them soon afterward.

  “Miss Ashwood, I am sorry I was unable to dance the first waltz with you but the comtesse suggested Miss Thibeau as an appropriate partner and since I had not had the forethought to obtain your promise ahead of time I no excuse to refuse,” Lord Sherbourne explained to Elisabeth with a contrite expression. “Please accept my apologies and allow me to partner you for the quadrille.”

  Elisabeth was relieved to see that Lord Sherbourne appeared genuinely sorry to have failed to partner her for the first waltz. But although she told herself it was petty and unworthy, she punished the viscount for his defection by refusing to stand up for the quadrille, pleading tiredness. Lord Sherbourne politely offered to sit the dance out with her and this time did actually obtain her a glass of ratafia. Elisabeth took the glass with a pretty smile of forgiveness, rather ashamed of her behavior. Punishment awaited, for no sooner did Elisabeth put her lips to the glass than she was dismayed to see Miss Thibeau and the comtesse approaching. Lord Sherbourne and the duke rose politely as the two women stopped before them and Elisabeth tried to disguise her consternation behind a polite smile of welcome.

  “Your Grace, Lady Parker, Miss Ashwood, may I present the
Comtesse de Fleurille and her niece Miss Thibeau,” Sherbourne introduced them. “Countess, Miss Thibeau, the Duke of Norland, my sister Lady Parker and Miss Ashwood.”

  As she murmured her greetings Elisabeth looked the two women over carefully. The comtesse was a dignified-looking older woman clad in a gray and purple striped gown and matching purple silk turban. Miss Thibeau was even more striking up close than she had appeared at a distance. Her dark, curly hair contrasted with her beautifully white skin and blue eyes and both were set off by a fashionable pink gown trimmed with swags of ruffles and appliquéd flowers. The heavily trimmed style that Elisabeth and Lady Parker had felt would not be becoming on themselves seemed designed especially to set off Miss Thibeau’s opulent charms. Once again Elisabeth felt to be quite the common brown wren Mr. Hunt had termed her.

  After courtesies were exchanged, to Elisabeth’s dismay Miss Thibeau and the comtesse took chairs next to theirs.

  “Miss Ashwood, I am very delighted to make your acquaintance,” Evonne said to Elisabeth, avoiding mention of their meeting in the park.

  Unhappy but honest enough to feel she was well served for her prevarication, Elisabeth forced the conventional words from between her lips. “And I am delighted to make yours.”

  Couples were beginning to take the floor for the second waltz and Sherbourne asked Elisabeth to partner him as the duke politely requested the same of Miss Thibeau. Thinking uncharitably that Miss Thibeau had most likely come to join their party precisely so that the duke would ask her to dance, Elisabeth accepted Lord Sherbourne’s arm onto the floor. As they took their places and waited for the music to begin Elisabeth was hopeful that being in Sherbourne’s arms for the dance would erase her hurt and restore her confidence in herself as the woman to whom Sherbourne was promised. But the waltz proved a disappointment for as Elisabeth whirled around the room in Lord Sherbourne’s arms all she could think of was Miss Thibeau and how beautiful she had appeared as she had danced with the viscount. The delicious sensation of being in Sherbourne’s arms that Elisabeth had anticipated did not materialize. When Sherbourne returned her to Lady Parker’s side after the waltz ended Elisabeth thought ruefully that the course of her engagement with Lord Sherbourne was not going to be as smooth as she had assumed it would be.

  Two days after Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball, Elisabeth entered the morning room to find Lady Parker with a puzzled look on her face as she perused a letter. She looked up at Elisabeth’s entrance.

  “Good morning, Miss Ashwood. I am most puzzled by this. I am instructed to bring you and appear before the patronesses of Almack’s—but as you must recall, I did not apply for vouchers.”

  “Could there have been a mistake?” Elisabeth asked, sitting down on the striped sofa and stroking Revati, who jumped up in her lap.

  “What can be the cause of such curious expressions?” Sherbourne asked, coming unannounced into the drawing room with Mr. Earlywine. “You and Miss Ashwood look as though you have been asked to solve the riddle of the sphinx.”

  “This is equally puzzling, Richard,” his sister replied, holding the letter out to her brother. “I am informed that we are to appear before the patronesses of Almack’s, yet I did not apply.”

  “That is no mystery,” James interposed. “My mother and sister also received such a letter this morning. No doubt it was the attendance at her come-out ball by the Duke of Norland and his marked attentions to you. The committee to decide who receives vouchers to Almack’s meets on Monday night—this is Tuesday. I am certain that must be what occurred. Y’see, they would fear incurring his grace’s displeasure should you not be invited.”

  “I see,” Lady Parker said. “Then I suppose we shall have to appear, as I am certain the patronesses would consider it unforgivable if we did not,” she added, not appearing particularly pleased about the honor.

  “I am certain it is just a formality and that it is a foregone conclusion you will receive vouchers,” Earlywine said comfortingly.

  “I had no aspirations to such an honor,” Lady Parker said. “And what one does not have one cannot lose,” she added cryptically.

  “Miss Ashwood, it would seem you will be experiencing the very highest levels of society as well as that of the literary set who are, of course, considered beyond the pale,” Mr. Earlywine teased Elisabeth, taking a chair across from hers.

  “I shall be interested to hear which you prefer after your first appearance at a Wednesday night assembly,” Lord Sherbourne added teasingly.

  Elisabeth smiled back, enjoying the easy familiarity, and felt more charitable toward the viscount than she had since he had waltzed with Miss Thibeau at Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball. “I shall promise to tell you provided you promise not to inform either party of my answer,” she agreed.

  “Now that you are here, Richard, would you and Mr. Earlywine care to accompany us to the circulating library?” Lady Parker asked as she filed the letter of acceptance from Almack’s away in her desk, its mystery solved.

  “I should enjoy accompanying you some other morning,” Lord Sherbourne answered apologetically, “but Earlywine and I are on our way to the Comtesse de Fleurille’s. We have decided to have our likenesses taken by Miss Thibeau, and she tells us that the morning light is the best in her studio.”

  Elisabeth’s gaze dropped and she concentrated on stroking Revati as her positive feelings toward Lord Sherbourne evaporated once again. Miss Thibeau. She must not have imagined the viscount’s interest in the Frenchwoman. How lowering it was to feel that one’s betrothed was attracted to another! At least Mr. Earlywine would be accompanying Lord Sherbourne to the artist’s studio, she consoled herself.

  “Very well, but do not forget the musicale tonight,” Lady Parker reminded her brother.

  “I shall not forget,” Sherbourne promised, and he and Earlywine took their departure.

  “I shall be interested to see how good a likeness Miss Thibeau can render,” Lady Parker commented after her brother and Mr. Earlywine had left.

  “I must confess I am not,” Elisabeth confided impulsively.

  Lady Parker looked consideringly at her guest. “You are not worried about my brother developing a tendre for Miss Thibeau, surely,” she said slowly. “I assure you that my brother would not be tempted to such a breach.”

  “He might not act upon it,” Elisabeth said slowly, “but can one truly control how one feels? He danced the first waltz with her at Miss Earlywine’s come-out ball and he has chosen to have her take his likeness. I cannot help seeing how Miss Thibeau’s vivacious nature seems to attract gentlemen, including Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine.”

  “It is true gentlemen are often drawn to women of lively character, such as Miss Thibeau,” Lady Parker agreed. “But it is most often a surface attraction.”

  “Perhaps you have the right of it,” Elisabeth allowed to her hostess but her doubts remained. Had she imagined those moments between herself and Lord Sherbourne when it had seemed that thoughts had flowed between them unspoken yet understood? When her skin had flushed and tingled at his barest touch? Surely she had not. Were gentlemen so fickle then? A small sign escaped her lips as she turned and picked up a book lying on a small table, hoping its contents would distract her from visions of Miss Thibeau smiling at Lord Sherbourne as she painted the viscount’s likeness.

  Several streets away in Grosvenor Square, a footman opened the door to the home of the Comtesse de Fleurille for Lord Sherbourne and Mr. Earlywine. After taking their top hats and walking sticks he ushered them to a room located to the right of the entrance hall.

  “Lord Sherbourne, Mr. Earlywine,” he announced. There was a rustle of noise as paintbrushes were dropped into a large vaselike container and Miss Thibeau came forward to greet her visitors.

  “Good morning, Lord Sherbourne, Monsieur Earlywine. I am so pleased you have chosen me to take your likenesses.” She welcomed them with a brilliant smile. Once again her clothes were covered with a painter’s smock but the hem of a fa
shionable morning gown peeped from beneath it and her abundant dark hair was attractively arranged in two bunches of curls caught up at each side of her face. “You see how kind is my aunt, to allow me to make of her small drawing room a studio.

  “Lord Sherbourne, please take this chair, if you please,” Evonne said, indicating a Hepplewhite chair near the east window. “Monsieur Earlywine, if you would sit here at the edge of the room for now, if you do not mind. I must concentrate on my subject, yes?”

  James had obediently headed toward the chair as ordered when a movement caught his attention and he went instead to a corner of the room behind Miss Thibeau where a large wooden crate with slatted sides stood.

  “I say, Miss Thibeau, what a strange-looking dog! Why do you keep him in a box?”

  “That is not a dog, Monsieur Earlywine, but Monsieur Lapin,” Miss Thibeau corrected with a laugh. “Monsieur Lapin, he is a rabbit for the wool to make yarn like the sheep. My cousin, he raise them, but Monsieur Lapin he run to me when they try to shear his wool and I keep him as the pet, yes?”

  “Yes, I see,” James replied, curiously examining the long-haired rabbit as the rabbit returned his gaze with one of equal interest. “What an odd-looking creature he is with that long hair on his body and shorter hair on his head and ears. Do you ever let him out?”

  “Yes, Monsieur Earlywine, he is quite the pet, and sits in my lap for the caress, but not in my studio! Monsieur Lapin, he like to eat the canvases and that is very bad. But I think you say the insult about Monsieur Lapin, he is not odd but very fine. Come sit where you are told,” Evonne ended with mock severity.

  James reluctantly returned to his seat by the wall while Lord Sherbourne settled in the chair by the window.

  “Please to hold your head up, Lord Sherbourne,” Miss Thibeau commanded her sitter and he lifted his head to gaze at the papier-mâché decorations that edged the ceiling. “No, no, lift the head to the right so the light from the window it shows your features.