First Season Read online

  Hetty’s second dance was claimed by her host’s son, Lord Arlington, who had been of her most persistent suitors since her arrival in Town. Hetty liked Lord Arlington, for he was one of the few she felt did not seek her out because of her fortune, yet she had been very careful not to give him much encouragement. She had wondered at herself for not favoring him more, but this evening she was discovering why. Despite his pleasant manners, Lord Arlington did not cause her heart to race as it had that afternoon when she met Lord Courtney. And she wanted more than liking and comfort in a prospective spouse; otherwise she would have encouraged Tom Goodman in Derbyshire and there would have been no need for a London Season.

  Lord Arlington returned Hetty to her aunt at the end of the allemande, and to Hetty’s great delight, she saw Lord Courtney approaching. But to her dismay, Lady Hardwick refused to allow Hetty to dance with the viscount since they had not been formally introduced.

  Lord Courtney was not so easily defeated, however, and returned shortly with Lady Arlington, who performed the requisite introductions, leaving Lady Hardwick with no alternative but to allow Hetty to dance with him.

  “Your aunt is a high stickler,” Lord Courtney commented as he led Hetty onto the floor.

  “Yes, and I fear I am a great trial to her,” Hetty confided. It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps Lord Courtney was being kind to her because he had been out of London and had not heard of her reputation as a hopeless provincial. She determined to tell him herself, before he heard the gossip. “I am not accustomed to the ways of London, being but recently arrived from Derbyshire. I am certain you have heard the sobriquet which has been attached to me. It was most mortifying to my aunt to have me so labeled.”

  Lord Courtney did not deny knowledge of Hetty’s nickname. “Yes, I have heard it, but I did not pay it any mind. I am certain you must misjudge your aunt’s reaction, however. It would have been most unjust for her to blame you for a few minor social errors. It is only natural that you should take time to learn the ways of London Society. You will learn with time.”

  “I have been here all of three weeks and appear not to have mastered them yet,” Hetty confessed. “There are so many rules one has to follow here in London. We have many of the same rules in the country, too, naturally—but there we are not so particular about adhering to them under all circumstances.”

  “To one not brought up in London it must be very difficult to remember all the strictures,” Lord Courtney sympathized. “If ever you are not sure of something, ask me. I have lived in London all my life.”

  Hetty smiled at Lord Courtney gratefully, and then the dance figures separated them and conversation was no longer possible. Hetty was glad that dancing was one thing she could do without disgracing anyone. She was very light on her feet and performed with a natural grace that was appreciated by all her partners.

  The long country dance with Lord Courtney rejuvenated Hetty and she returned to her aunt with her spirits much restored. Even the approach of Lord Wakeford to ask for her hand for the next set did not cast her down, although she was certain he noticed her lack of jewels and was laughing at her behind his mask of politeness. Instead she simply enjoyed the dance, for Lord Wakeford was also very light on his feet.

  When Lord Wakeford returned Hetty to her aunt she was delighted to see that his sister, Lady Emily Wakeford, had come to pay her respects to Lady Hardwick. To Hetty’s further delight, Lady Emily asked Hetty to call upon her the next morning.

  How wonderful it would be to have a friend in London, Hetty thought as Lady Emily took her leave after securing Hetty’s promise to call. Hetty had met some of Sophie’s friends, but they took their lead from her cousin and did not welcome the country cousin into their circle.

  When Lady Hardwick deemed it time they leave the Rutherford’s at two o’clock in the morning, Hetty felt that the night had gone quite well, despite her error of wearing no jewels and having had to dance twice with Lord Satre. She sat in contented silence on their way home, thinking of Lord Courtney and the interest he was showing in her.

  “Henrietta, it will not do for you to encourage Lord Courtney,” her aunt broke into her thoughts, seemingly reading her niece’s mind.

  Hetty looked up in surprise. “Why ever not, Aunt Ernestine? He is a viscount, and is accepted in Society, or Lady Arlington would not have invited him to her ball and presented him to me as a suitable partner for a dance.”

  “Lord Courtney must be accepted in Society because of his rank,” Lady Hardwick explained not unkindly, “but that does not make him eligible as a suitor. Lord Courtney is a known fortune hunter. He has already gone through what he inherited from his father, and needs to find a rich wife before his creditors lose patience and have him thrown in Newgate.”

  Hetty heard her aunt’s words with a sinking heart. “I have already given him permission to call upon me,” she said, her voice unsteady.

  “We must receive Lord Courtney if he calls, of course,” Lady Hardwick said, a note of impatience coming into her voice, “but you are not to encourage him. Is that understood? I promised your parents that I would keep fortune hunters away, and I shall do so. I repeat, you are not to encourage Lord Courtney. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Hetty replied, but an unaccustomed feeling of rebellion was rising in her breast. She would be forbidden to encourage the one gentleman who had shown her any true kindness. Perhaps Lord Courtney did not have wealth, but that did not necessarily mean that he liked her only because of hers.

  Hetty lapsed into silence, but as her aunt and cousin recounted Sophie’s successes of the evening in satisfied tones Hetty’s feeling of rebellion grew and grew, finally blossoming into a new resolve: no longer would she apologize for being a country miss, no longer would she cringe every time she entered a room, wondering what new solecisms she would commit. Why had she worried so about the opinions of these people who did not like her and never would? She would be the person she was, green girl though she might be, and if Society as a whole did not accept her country ways, there were those who did, namely Lady Emily and Lord Courtney.

  Chapter Six

  Lady Hardwick looked across the salon to where Sophie and Miss Alcock sat speaking to Mr. Eastman and Lord Lockwood, and smiled with satisfaction as she responded mechanically to the conversation of Mrs. Alcock. Hetty had taken her maid and gone to call on Lady Emily, which suited Lady Hardwick, for she preferred her daughter to be the center of attention.

  The Season was indeed progressing well, Lady Hardwick reflected. Sophie had several admirers, and due to her own judicious selection of Henrietta’s wardrobe, her niece’s presence had done little to detract attention from Sophie. Hetty’s blunders, although regrettable, had even served to emphasize Sophie’s polished manners. She had experienced one bad moment when she overheard Mrs. Wallender comment on the lack of guidance Miss Biddle must be receiving, but Society on the whole did not seem to hold her accountable for her niece’s blunders. Indeed, many had privately sympathized with the task she had.

  Of course, Lady Hardwick admitted to herself, much of their success this Season was due to Henrietta’s fortune. Her wealth had given them the entree to many places that had formerly been out of reach, beginning with the invitation to dinner at the Duchess of Grimwold’s. In fpoint of act, Sophie had met one of her most eligible suitors, Lord Lockwood, at that dinner. A fortune was a great advantage, Lady Harwick acknowledged, thinking of the carriage and the new wardrobes she and her daughter had been able to acquire with the squire’s money. She would miss the added income when Henrietta left. Perhaps she should purchase a few more items while her niece was still with her—she had heard that the classical mode was going to be replaced by the Egyptian, and would like her drawing room to be furnished in the first stare of fashion. Surely that would be a legitimate expense? One’s house must be furnished elegantly in order to make the correct impression on one’s callers.

  “May we expect an announcement to be made soon?”
Mrs. Alcock asked Lady Hardwick, following her hostess’s gaze to Sophie and Lord Lockwood.

  Lady Hardwick’s thoughts abandoned the furnishings and returned to her daughter. “It is too soon to speculate,” she replied, her expression giving Mrs. Alcock to understand that she might indeed expect an interesting announcement in the near future.

  “You have done well for your daughter this Season,” Mrs. Alcock complimented her hostess. “And Miss Biddle? Does she have any prospects of a match?”

  “Again, one does not like to speculate when the Season is not yet half-over, but Lord Satre has shown marked interest in my niece.”

  “Indeed! Miss Biddle’s family must be very pleased with your care and attention to her future.”

  Lady Hardwick acknowledged the tribute with a regal nod as Mrs. Alcock rose to take her leave. Mr. Eastman and Lord Lockwood departed soon afterward and Sophie took a turn about the room, looking very pleased with herself.

  “Mama, I do believe I shall be receiving an offer soon,” she confided to Lady Hardwick.

  “From whom?” Lady Hardwick queried.

  “Mr. Eastman.”

  “Do not give Mr. Eastman too much encouragement yet,” Lady Hardwick cautioned. “Let us see if Lord Lockwood will come up to scratch. He would be a much better match.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Sophie agreed, “but I do not wish to depress Mr. Eastman’s hopes too far lest I have no suitor should Lord Lockwood not make me an offer.”

  “I am certain you will manage to hold the interest of both until we know Lord Lockwood’s intentions,” Lady Hardwick replied as she sorted through a pile of invitations.

  “Since no one else has called this afternoon I think I shall go instruct my maid to replace the blue ribbons on my new gown with pink ones. Lord Lockwood had expressed his preference for that color,” Sophie said as she rose and left the room.

  Lady Hardwick remained in the salon, sorting through the invitations and deciding which ones to accept.

  “Lord Satre,” the butler announced, interrupting her task.

  Lord Satre entered the salon and bent gracefully over Lady Hardwick’s hand, kissing it lightly. “You are looking well, Lady Hardwick,” he complimented her.

  “Thank you, Lord Satre,” Lady Hardwick replied. “Please sit down. Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of claret, perhaps?”

  “No, thank you, Lady Hardwick. Is Miss Biddle not at home?” he asked, glancing about the salon. “I had hoped to speak with her.”

  “She has gone to call on Lady Emily,” Lady Hardwick explained.

  “Lady Emily?” Lord Satre repeated. “Lord Wakeford’s sister?” He appeared to hesitate a moment, and then seated himself in the chair next to Lady Hardwick. “I hope you will not consider me impertinent if I ask if you think Lord Wakeford has an interest in your niece?”

  Lady Hardwick looked at Lord Satre calculatingly. She had wondered at times if Lord Satre was intrigued with her niece only because of her ingenuousness; older rakes often were. Now it would appear the peer did have a serious interest in Henrietta, as she had hinted to Mrs. Alcock.

  “I do not believe so, Lord Satre,” she replied. “Although Lady Emily seems taken with Miss Biddle, I suspect Lord Wakeford is quite put off by my niece’s social blunders. He is the one who originally gave her the appellation ‘Half-baked Hetty,’ or so I have heard.”

  “May I be frank with you, Lady Hardwick?” Lord Satre asked.

  “Please, Lord Satre.”

  “I find your niece a very attractive and charming young girl, and indeed am becoming quite attached to her. However, I fear that my rank, or perhaps my age, might cause her to hesitate to look as high as myself. Perhaps you might give your niece a hint of my feelings and encourage her reciprocation of them?”

  Lady Hardwick hesitated. She knew her ability to influence her niece was limited, and moreover, despite her pleasure at having Lord Satre as a suitor for her niece, she was not certain the Squire would approve such a match. She had heard rumors about Lord Satre in his youth, and while she might not be overly fond of her niece, she could not wish her any real harm.

  “Perhaps you have heard I was rather wild in my youth,” Lord Satre said, apparently reading her thoughts. “Many a gentleman has a wild youth, but I have settled down now and wish to start a family. If you will forgive my plain-speaking, I could easily marry higher, but I find your niece’s youth and freshness appealing. Her provincial manners and background do not revolt me. I think you would allow that Miss Biddle would benfit from an alliance with an older man who would guide her steps in Society.”

  Lady Hardwick remained silent, thinking how best to respond.

  “Of course, I would make a generous settlement on Miss Biddle,” Lord Satre continued smoothly. “Perhaps as her sponsor it would be appropriate for me to instruct my man of business to deposit the sum in your account until her financial arrangements are settled?”

  Lady Hardwick glanced at Lord Satre sharply, but his cold gray eyes did not give his thoughts away. However, Lady Hardwick understood well enough. The money, once in her account, need never be transferred to Henrietta’s. A short war with her conscience ensued. Lord Satre was considerably older than Henrietta—most likely by a full score and ten years. But her niece did need guidance in the ways of Society, and who better to provide it than a man of wealth, rank, and experience such as Lord Satre? Furthermore, she had promised her sister that she would not allow her to fall in the hands of a fortune hunter, and no one could accuse Lord Satre of being a fortune hunter. Yes, she could see that Lord Satre would indeed be the best choice for her niece.

  “Lord Satre,” Lady Hardwick said finally, “you must understand that my influence with my niece is limited. However, as her sponsor for her come-out in Society, it is my duty to see that she does not marry a fortune hunter, but makes a good match with a gentleman of rank and wealth. I should be failing in my duty otherwise,” she ended virtuously.

  “One could never accuse you of failing to see where your niece’s best interests are, I am certain,” Lord Satre replied smoothly.

  They spoke for a few minutes longer, and then with another graceful bow Lord Satre departed, leaving Lady Hardwick with an uncomfortable sensation of having made a pact with the devil. She shook the feeling off impatiently. No one could say Lord Satre was not a good match for a squire’s daughter whose fortune was tainted by trade.

  Hetty took another sip of the fragrant tea and placed the delicate Wedgwood cup on the table. She had been enjoying her call on Lady Emily very much, especially since Lord Wakeford was nowhere to be seen. She had been able to relax and talk happily with Lady Emily while the dowager marchioness looked on benignly, entering the conversation from time to time. Here was the kind of confidential conversation about fashions and the latest on-dits that Hetty had dreamed of having with her cousin, a dream she now knew was not going to materialize.

  Other callers at the Wakefords’ came and went through the early afternoon, but Hetty felt so comfortable that she stayed on. Indeed, she wished she could stay forever, Hetty thought wistfully as she pictured the cold house to which she must return. But when the time for tea approached, she reluctantly rose to take her leave.

  As Hetty bade the dowager marchioness and Lady Emily good-bye, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and to her dismay, Lord Wakeford appeared at the door of the salon.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Biddle,” the viscount greeted her. “I hope Lady Hardwick and Miss Hardwick are well?”

  “Yes, thank you, Lord Wakeford,” Hetty replied, wishing she had taken her departure five minutes earlier.

  Lord Wakeford smiled charmingly. “I am happy I returned before you had taken your leave, Miss Biddle, as I wished to ask if you would give me the pleasure of your company on a drive in the park tomorrow afternoon?”

  Hetty was reluctant to accept the invitation, but under the eyes of Lady Emily and the dowager she could not refuse without appearing impolite.

  “
Thank you, Lord Wakeford, I should be pleased to go for a drive,” Hetty accepted.

  Hetty walked very slowly back to Lady Hardwick’s town house with Daisy, reluctant to return to the less congenial atmosphere of her aunt’s home. Inevitably, however, they reached Adam Street, and Hetty went upstairs to join her aunt and cousin in the Great Salon. At least she could tell her aunt of the Wakefords’ graciousness to her that afternoon.

  “Where have you been all this time, miss?” Lady Hardwick demanded as Hetty entered the salon.

  Hetty looked at her aunt in bewilderment as she sat down.

  “Why, at the Wakefords’. You gave me permission to call on them this afternoon.”

  “You have been there all this time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Over two hours!” Lady Hardwick exclaimed in displeasure. “You must realize that the proper length for a morning call is fifteen minutes; thirty at the outmost if they are close friends. How mortifying. I suppose the dowager marchioness was present, as well.”

  “At home we stay that long and longer for calls,” Hetty excused herself, although she knew that her aunt was correct and she should not have stayed as long as she did. “Lady Emily pressed me to stay and I felt it would be impolite not to do so.”

  “How often must I remind you that you are not in the country anymore?” Lady Hardwick said in a scolding voice. “Longer calls are acceptable in the country because it takes more time to go somewhere. However, I suppose since Lady Emily pressed you to stay longer that it was acceptable in this instance.

  “However, Henrietta, you are not in the country anymore, and I do not wish to hear any more about how things are done in Derbyshire. You are in London. And do not forget that it was Lord Wakeford who gave you the sobriquet of Half-baked Hetty.”