PoetsandPromises Read online

  “Like this,” Miss Thibeau said, coming forward and tilting Lord Sherbourne’s head a bit to the right, her fingers under his chin.

  “Yes,” she said, satisfied. She picked up a sketch pad and piece of charcoal and took a chair a few feet away. “Now it is not necessary stay absolutely quiet, Lord Sherbourne. We may talk to pass the time. This likeness, it is to be for Lady Parker?”

  “Perhaps. I have not yet determined,” Lord Sherbourne answered honestly. “I thought to see how it turns out. Perhaps, if they find the likeness well-done, my sister and Miss Ashwood will enjoy having their likeness taken as well.”

  “Ah, I see, this is the test, yes?” Evonne said teasingly. “And you, Monsieur Earlywine?” she asked, turning to the other gentleman.

  “I wish one for my mother,” James answered frankly. “She has been at me this age to have a likeness done and now that I have met an artist it seemed a good time.”

  “Then I am happy I am the first I am the first artiste you meet, Monsieur Earlywine,” Evonne said as she began to draw with quick, sure strokes.

  Lord Sherbourne watched Miss Thibeau with amused interest, enjoying her flirtatiousness while not responding to it. He could not but find the Frenchwoman’s lively character and beauty highly appealing but he had become more and more satisfied with his decision to arrange a marriage with Miss Ashwood over the last weeks. Although she was generally quiet and sweetly serious, he had observed moments she relaxed into playfulness and was sure that with time she would become more at ease with him. Most appealing to him was the hint of unawakened passion that he sensed flowing beneath the surface of Miss Ashwood’s calm earnestness, and he looked forward to being the one to bring it to light.

  “That one, Miss Ashwood, she is a little in love with Shelley, yes?” Miss Thibeau said conversationally as she sketched, interrupting Sherbourne’s train of thought. “Or so it seemed that day at the Park. All the women, they love the poets, n’est-ce pas?”

  “Do they, Miss Thibeau?” Sherbourne asked.

  “But of course, for the poets they are romantic. Your sister, she sponsor Miss Ashwood for the season? She must find Miss Ashwood the match in the poet, yes?”

  “And you, Miss Thibeau—you love the poets also?” Earlywine asked, sparing Sherbourne the necessity of returning a vague answer to Evonne’s personal question.

  “I?” Evonne laughed, showing perfect white teeth between cherry-red lips as she continued to sketch. “I am the artiste myself—the artiste with paint as the poet he is the artiste with words. The mystery, she is not there for me. No, I find the proper gentlemen more curious, more alluring,” she added provocatively and then laughed, the clear tinkling sound letting them know she spoke lightly. She put her charcoal down and rose from her seat.

  “Now, how do you like?” she asked, approaching Lord Sherbourne and holding out the sketch.

  Earlywine came forward to look at the sketch as well and admired the artistry that had enabled Miss Thibeau to capture Sherbroune’s stern yet approachable profile in a few quick strokes.

  “It is very like,” he acknowledged.

  “Next time I will begin the painting with oils,” she said. “Now, Monsieur Earlywine, you must trade the places and I shall see if you also will be satisfied.”

  “What is appropriate to wear to Almack’s, Lady Parker?” Elisabeth asked early the Wednesday afternoon of the first assembly they would attend. “I know there are rules one must observe at their assembly rooms, and if there are any on dress I do not wish to start off wrong.”

  “White is the best choice for young unmarried women,” Lady Parker informed Elisabeth. “And I believe it is required at Almack’s for those young women having their first Season. But do not worry about the evening overmuch, be polite and courteous and you will find it to be no different than the ball at Miss Earlywine’s. Except I believe you must not waltz without the permission of one of the lady patronesses.”

  Elisabeth thanked Lady Parker and went to instruct Molly to lay out her finest new ball gown, a simple high-waisted white muslin with two self-fabric ruffles at the bottom of the hem and also at the end of the long under-sleeves.

  When Molly finished her mistress’s toilette early that evening Elisabeth felt she looked acceptable and pleasing if not out of the ordinary. “Do you think this carnelian pendant is better than the pearls?” Elisabeth asked her maid, holding the warm-colored necklace across her breast.

  “I think the pearl, miss. I’ve heard tell that is more acceptable for young ladies during their come-out.”

  “I am not precisely in my first youth,” Elisabeth said with a sigh, laying the carnelian aside and allowing Molly to fasten the pearl necklace around her throat.

  “No one will know, I’m sure, miss,” Molly reassured her mistress. “You look that fine. Almack’s, miss! Did you ever think?”

  “No, I did not,” Elisabeth admitted. Taking courage from her maid’s honest admiration, Elisabeth descended to the drawing room to wait for Lady Parker and Lord Sherbourne.

  As their carriage clattered down the streets toward the assembly rooms that evening, Lady Parker revealed that she also was apprehensive about the evening by the slight frown marring her wide brow. “I wish I could recall all the rules of conduct for the rooms,” she said worriedly. “I do recall now that there is a rule that a young woman making her come-out at Almack’s will have her partners chosen by the patronesses—but that would not apply to you, Miss Ashwood, since it is not your come-out ball.”

  “Sister, I believe you are in more consternation about appearing at Almack’s than is Miss Ashwood,” Lord Sherbourne teased. “You are both in excellent looks and need not fear a thing,” he added, glancing at the women with approbation. Elisabeth looked young, fresh and singularly charming in the requisite white and Lady Parker was elegant in a deep wine-colored underdress overlaid with a cream lace overdress.

  Elisabeth saw the admiration in Lord Sherbourne’s eyes and relaxed slightly. She was rather overawed by Sherbourne’s appearance. Almack’s had requirements for the gentlemen as well and he looked remarkably fine in the requisite black knee breeches, white shirt and cravat, waistcoat, chapeau bras and evening coat. Elisabeth frequently found her gaze straying to the muscular calf outlined by the tight-fitting white silk stockings. Although before her ideal had been her friend’s husband, the vicar, Elisabeth now found she had a decided tendency to find the rugged appearance of Lord Sherbourne more attractive.

  “One does not think how many changes may take place when one is gone thirteen years,” Lady Parker mused. “I confess I fear putting a foot wrong—for Miss Ashwood’s sake more than my own.”

  Elisabeth looked up at Lord Sherbourne, wishing suddenly that it were generally known she and Lord Sherbourne were to marry. Then she would not have to fear Miss Thibeau, she reflected, or other young women and their matchmaking mamas who might hope to marry their daughter off to a nabob. And why wasn’t their betrothal announced now that they had established a rapport? Why wait?

  The carriage rolled to a stop before the building that housed the assembly rooms, interrupting Elisabeth’s musings. Lady Parker and Elisabeth were handed down by Lord Sherbourne and joined the others gathering for the night’s assembly. They displayed their tickets to the attendants at the door and soon after they entered the rooms a tall, hawk-nosed woman approached their party.

  “Lord Sherbourne, Lady Parker, I am pleased to see you here tonight. I am happy to see you returned to England.”

  “Lady Sefton.” Sherbourne and Lady Parker greeted one of the foremost patronesses of Almack’s. “You remember Miss Ashwood?”

  Elisabeth gave her best curtsey, aware of the eagle eyes missing nothing of her appearance and deportment.

  “Miss Ashwood, we are pleased to see you at the assembly rooms,” Lady Sefton replied, apparently approving what she saw. “Young women of modest appearance and demeanor are always most welcome. We are pleased to have had the opportunity to grant you vouche
rs.”

  “Thank you, Lady Sefton,” Elisabeth replied. “I am most pleased to attend.”

  With a final regal nod of approbation the patroness moved on to other guests as Lady Parker and Elisabeth breathed sighs of relief.

  “I believe I see Lady Earlywine and her daughter,” Lord Sherbourne said as he scanned the room. “Come, let us find seats by them.”

  “Miss Ashwood,” Miss Earlywine said, a smile spreading over her plump cheeks as the three came up to the Earlywines. “I am so happy to see someone I know. I saw Lady Sefton speaking to you. I should have perished of nervousness, it was frightening enough to appear before them when they were considering giving us vouchers. Are you not uneasy, coming here for the first time? I fear I shall make some dreadful error.”

  “I confess I am quite fearful myself,” Elisabeth admitted as she pulled a chair close to James’ sister. The two young women sat together and conversed while they waited for the dancing to begin, comparing opinions of the fashions worn by the other guests. At the same time Elisabeth was covertly watching to see who entered, wondering if Miss Thibeau would be among the select at the assembly rooms that night. But she did not see either Miss Thibeau or her aunt the Comtesse de Fleurille and decided that Almack’s had one point in its favor if it was a place where she would not see the vivacious Frenchwoman.

  Elisabeth had hoped to have Lord Sherbourne as her partner for the first dance but one of the patronesses introduced a different gentleman to her for the dance and Elisabeth had perforce to accept him, as she did yet another gentleman for the second set. When that young sprig returned her to Lady Parker after the set ended Elisabeth was unsurprised to see that the Duke of Norland had joined their party. The Duke asked a patroness to recommend him to her for the quadrille and kindly did the same for Miss Earlywine the following dance.

  Although both Elisabeth and Miss Earlywine were too unaffected to notice it, many eyes were upon the two young women that evening and many ladies of the bon ton, who could see nothing remarkable about either young girl, wondered why they merited so much attention when they had neither beauty nor fortune. Lady Parker noticed the glances however and knew that from this night both young women would be widely recognized wherever they went.

  Lord Sherbourne, remembering he needed permission to waltz with Miss Ashwood at Almack’s, sought one of the patronesses out to ask if he might have the first waltz.

  “Has Miss Ashwood been approved to waltz?” the patroness inquired and then laughed at Sherbourne’s puzzled expression. “It is the custom that those young women appearing for their first Season must be approved to waltz before a partner can be approved for the dance,” she explained. “But never fear, I shall grant both,” she promised, rising to accompany Sherbourne back to Lady Parker and Elisabeth.

  “Is the waltz agreeable to you, Miss Ashwood?” the patroness asked Elisabeth. At Elisabeth’s intimation of agreement, the patroness continued, “Then may I present Lord Sherbourne as a suitable partner?”

  “I did not expect it would be so difficult to obtain your hand for a dance,” Lord Sherbourne commented as he led Elisabeth onto the floor. “The patronesses are doing their best to introduce you to a multitude of eligible young gentlemen.”

  “I believe that is the purpose of Almack’s,” Elisabeth answered with a provocative glance.

  Moments later the music began and Lord Sherbourne’s arms were holding her close as they swirled about the room to the intoxicating rhythm of the waltz. Elisabeth gave herself up to the enchantment of the music as she dipped and swayed and swirled. She and Lord Sherbourne moved as one person and suddenly she felt her very essence melt into his and knew by a quick glance that the viscount felt it too. Warmth and an indistinct longing radiated through Elisabeth’s body and she wished the rooms contained only the two of them. She half-closed her eyes as they whirled gracefully about the floor and wished the moment might never end. Intensely aware of Lord Sherbourne’s touch, she dared a quick glance upward and their eyes met. Elisabeth’s breath caught in her throat as something intangible passed between them, seeming to bind their very souls. Unnerved by the intensity of the moment, Elisabeth once again shuttered her gaze and she felt the viscount’s hand tighten upon hers as they continued to whirl about the room.

  After the waltz ended Elisabeth did not wish to have another partner, feeling it would somehow tarnish the glow of her dance with Sherbourne. She was therefore relieved when the viscount and Miss Earlywine’s partner suggested they adjourn to the supper rooms, where they revived themselves with tea, lemonade, rich cake and thin slices of bread and fresh butter. Elisabeth was laughing at something droll Miss Earlywine had said when she caught the word “Shelley” in the conversation of two dowagers sitting nearby. Unable to resist listening, Elisabeth pretended to be occupied in finishing her cake that she might hear the conversation better.

  “Heard Mad Shelley and his wife have moved to Great Marlow. My niece was naturally most distressed to have such people as neighbors. You know Mrs. Shelley is enceinte. One wonders whether that was what caused poor Harriet to take her own life. No one will receive them, of course.”

  Elisabeth listened no more and her eyes flicked to Lady Parker to see if she had also overheard the comments but Sherbourne’s sister was conversing with the duke and gave no sign of having heard them. Here was proof of what Lady Parker had told Elisabeth about the literary set not being received by those in polite society and Elisabeth was disturbed by what she had heard. Yet remembering the courteous but intense poet and his beautiful, charming wife, Elisabeth could not entirely credit the gossip—and who was Harriet? The overheard conversation stayed in her mind and much of the innocent enjoyment she had taken in her success at Almack’s assembly rooms vanished.

  Chapter Six

  The afternoon sun bisected the drawing room, throwing half into uncompromising clarity while the other half remained soft in the shadows. The chiaroscuro effect flattered those callers sitting in its shadows while drawing attention of the defects of those in the harsh light and Elisabeth entertained herself by guessing which side of the room each new caller would select. Several callers had stopped by the house in Half Moon Street that day, the day after their first appearance at Almack’s, and Elisabeth and Lady Parker were almost at the point where receiving them was becoming a chore rather than a pleasure.

  “His grace the Duke of Norland,” the footman announced as yet another caller arrived. Lady Parker revived immediately and Elisabeth also felt her spirits rise at the entrance of the duke. He was clad in riding dress and Elisabeth wondered fleetingly how he managed to keep his clothing in such perfection. His linen never seemed to wilt or crease, spots of lint never seemed to appear on his coat and breeches and never did a scuffed spot appear on his boots.

  “I come on two errands this fine morning, Lady Parker, Miss Ashwood. First to ascertain if you and Lord Sherbourne plan to attend the premier of Don Giovanni at the Haymarket this coming week and second to see if I might persuade you to join me for a ride about the Park,” he informed them. “I have bought a new landaulet and thought to try it.”

  “I have heard that one of Mozart’s operas is at last to be performed in London,” Lady Parker admitted, “and we are planning to attend, although I believe I should prefer another night to that of the premier.”

  “I concur that it is more pleasant when there is not such a press of people. Shall we agree to the performance two nights after the premier?”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Lady Parker answered. “I shall so inform my brother. As to your second errand, we shall be pleased to join you for a ride in the park.”

  “I would enjoy it another time, Your Grace, but as I am a bit fatigued from last night’s dancing and beg you to excuse me this afternoon.” Elisabeth spoke, surprising Lady Parker.

  “Are you feeling well, Miss Ashwood?” her sponsor asked anxiously.

  “Quite well,” Elisabeth assured her friend. “I am only fatigued. Please do not stay on
my account.”

  Lady Parker and the duke departed after more assurances of Elisabeth’s health. Elisabeth watched from the window until she had seen them drive down the street and then reclined on a sofa in the shady part of the room. It was true she was tired after the unaccustomed social round but she had also wished the duke and Lady Parker to have a chance to converse without her presence since it was evident to her that it was Lady Parker’s company the duke sought.

  And she had wanted time to herself to think about Lord Sherbourne and relive last night’s waltz in her mind. Over and over she conjured up the sensation of melting in his arms. Surely now he must ask her to make the betrothal official?

  Then Elisabeth’s thoughts shifted to the conversation about the Shelleys that she had overheard and she wondered again who Harriet had been. She wished she had someone she could trust that she might ask. She could hardly ask Lady Parker when that lady already did not approve her acquaintance with them and she felt shy of asking Lord Sherbourne questions about something that apparently had to do with illicit connections. Of course! She realized, she could ask Jane! Elisabeth ran upstairs and pulled out her letter-case. A quarter of an hour later she had finished her missive and went back down to the drawing room to wait for Lady Parker and the duke to return. Finding that she was now in truth quite tired, she reclined on a sofa in the shadowed side of the room, resting her head against the round bolster at the head, and thought about the Shelleys, Lord Sherbourne and marriage. As the thoughts chased faster and faster around and around in her head, Elisabeth slipped into a light slumber.

  “Thank you, Your Grace, it was a most enjoyable drive.”

  The voices interrupted Elisabeth’s slumbers and the thought entered her mind that she needed to make her presence known, as the sofa was shielded from their sight both by the shadows and by two plant-filled jardinières.