Nineteen
Elizabeth waited until almost noon the next day before leaving the house, though it was irksome to have to wait so long. She was angry, a rare emotion for her. She was angry for herself, as who would not be? But even more she was angry for Colin. And for her family on both sides, all of whose members were using up their time here in town on her behalf, when they ought to be relaxing and enjoying themselves.
It simply was not fair. And it must not be allowed to continue. Itwouldnot be.
“No,” she said to Wren when her sister-in-law offered to accompany her on her outing, though she had been deliberately vague about her purpose and destination. “No, thank you, Wren. It is just a quick errand. I will be back in no time.”
“No,” she said when her mother asked if she was at least going to take her maid with her. “No, it is quite unnecessary. I am a grown woman, Mama, and have been for many years. I do not need a chaperon dogging my heels wherever I go.”
She had probably offended both of them, she thought as the carriage made its way along the street. It was unlike her to be so abrupt and ungracious. Both had looked at her with a slight frown, as though they would like to say something more but dared not. It was unlike her to come anywhere near to snapping.ThatElizabeth had been left behind a long time ago.
They had all agreed at the breakfast table, Elizabeth included, that the ball had gone very well indeed. The Ormsbridges had received them with a particularly warm welcome and most of their guests either had been happy to see them from the start or else had thawed during the course of the evening. There had been a few who had not, of course, most notably Lady Dunmore and the rather large group of followers she had gathered about her and her daughter, but that was at least understandable and they had not made any sort of unpleasant scene. The unexpected appearance of Sir Nelson and Lady Elwood had surely been a good thing, even if the pair of them seemed lacking in obvious charm and had surely not smiled even once.
“It was kind of them for Colin’s sake to put in an appearance,” Elizabeth’s mother had commented, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “And it was civil of Lady Elwood to walk with you, Lizzie, and of Sir Nelson to dance with you. Lady Hodges must have seen the announcement of your betrothal and encouraged them to go in person to acknowledge you and congratulate him. I can never quite forgive her for what she did to Wren, but perhaps she has redeeming qualities after all. People do change over the years, do they not?’’
Wren had kept her attention on her plate, and Elizabeth had not told them the truth of that surprise appearance of her future sister- and brother-in law. It was something she would deal with herself. However, she had been interrupted last evening when she had been talking with Wren, and what they had been talking about ought to be finished.
“Colin is hoping to establish some sort of civil relationship with his mother and Blanche,” she had said. “We want to invite them to our wedding. But…But there is you, Wren. I do not know what happened when you called on your mother last year after your wedding, but my guess is that it could not have been good. Will you find it distressing—”
“This is your wedding, Elizabeth,” Wren had said, interrupting her, “and Colin’s. The two of you must do what you wish to do about Mother and Blanche without worrying about me. But if you invite them to the wedding, then you must invite them to the wedding breakfast too.”
“Wren.” Alexander had been frowning.
“No,” she had said, holding up one hand. “I am not a fragile thing. I am certainly not going to force Colin and Elizabeth to choose between my mother and me. And this is not a matter for debate. Don’t look at me like that, Alexander. Or you, Elizabeth. Not another word.”
And not another word had been spoken on the subject.
When the carriage drew up outside the house on Curzon Street, Elizabeth was angry, though not in a way that was likely to erupt in uncontrolled fury. Only in a way that would carry her through the next half hour or so. It was past noon by then, but Lady Hodges was still not available to receive visitors. She would wait, Elizabeth informed the butler, stepping firmly over the doorstep to indicate to him that she was not to be trifled with.
“Kindly inform your mistress that Lady Overfield awaits her pleasure,” she said.
He must have recognized her name, for he ushered her up to the drawing room to wait instead of keeping her standing in the hall. She awaited the lady’s pleasure there for an hour. It was just after one by the ormolu clock on the mantel when the door finally opened.
Elizabeth had been directed to a love seat upon her arrival, but she had not remained in it after the first ten minutes. She had crossed first to a window to pull back one of the pink curtains. The light in the room was dim despite the bright sunshine outside, and it was distinctly pink hued. The butler had lit the candles in a gilded candleholder on the mantel next to the clock, but why see by candlelight when it was only just past noon and there was a world of daylight behind the curtains?
The curtains would not budge. Something held the two halves together, and something held them in place at the outer edges so they could not be moved. Extraordinary!
After that Elizabeth had wandered about the room, noting that everything in it, from the carpet to the furnishings to the wallpaper, was either silver or gray or some shade of pink. There was a large number of chairs, sofas, and love seats in the room, enough to accommodate sizable gatherings. It was obvious, however, which chair belonged to Lady Hodges. It sat higher than all the others and was larger and more sumptuous. It dominated the room and looked more like a throne than a chair. The thought might have amused Elizabeth if she had been in the mood to feel amusement.
When the door opened at last, she was standing before the fireplace having a closer look at the clock, which was a magnificent piece. She turned.
Lady Hodges was alone. She looked like a fragile, hesitant girl, hovering in the doorway as though unsure whether she was permitted to enter. Like a girl, she was dressed in a white, high-waisted muslin dress with a low neckline and short sleeves, though Elizabeth could see that there was an inset bodice of fine gauze, which covered her bosom and ended in a small ruff about her throat. There were also sleeves of the same material covering her arms and shaped into frilled Vs over her hands. She was of medium height and very slender. Her blond hair had been curled and dressed with immaculate care. It was a remarkably realistic wig. The cosmetics on her face were easy to detect, but they had been skillfully applied to give the illusion of an unnatural youth to a lady who must be sixty at the very least. She looked quite beautiful, but…Well, she looked more like a work of art than a real woman.
“Lady Overfield.” She stepped lightly into the room and an unseen hand closed the door behind her. “How extraordinarily delightful that you have come to call upon me only a day after your betrothal to my son was announced to the world. Let me have a look at you.” Her voice was that of a little girl. It made Elizabeth want to shiver.
She did not immediately take a look. First she crossed the room and ascended the two shallow steps to her chair. Seated on it, she seemed even slighter and more like a girl. It had been designed with that effect in mind, Elizabeth realized. Lady Hodges rested her arms along the velvet arms and turned her eyes upon Elizabeth, a slight smile upon her face. She took her time about looking her over from head to toe.
“My dearest Colin,” she said. “It is hard to realize he is no longer quite a boy, though he still looks very young. And remarkably handsome. And easily influenced, I have heard. He has some growing up still to do. But of course you will help him with that, being a mature woman yourself.Howold did you say you are?”
“I did not,” Elizabeth said. “But you know very well how old I am, ma’am. You know a great deal more about me too than just that, and what you do not know you do not hesitate to invent. If you are aiming to embarrass me by looking me over and having me admit that I am significantly older than your son, you will not succeed. I do not embarrass easily when I have nothing for which to feel embarrassment.”
“Oh, my dear,” Lady Hodges said, picking up a monstrous peacock feather fan from the table beside her and slowly plying her face with it, “hassomeone been inventing stories about you? How very distressing for you. And how malicious of that someone. Perhaps it is untrue, then, that there are ten years between you and my son? Or nine years and five months, to be more precise. I do hope you were well received last evening. I sent Blanche and Nelson to lend you countenance and they informed me that you were very much enjoying yourself. I daresay any lady would who had such a young and handsome fiancé to show off to theton, especially when she had stolen him from under the very noses of the young, inexperienced girls who were foolish enough to aspire to his hand. I was delighted to listen to Blanche’s report, though I was sorry to hear that Miss Dunmore was there to mar your pleasure just a little. She is exceedingly lovely, is she not? It is being said that her mama was so determined that she marry my son that she tried to force him into it by implying there was already an understanding between them. Some even say she tried sending a notice of their betrothal to the papers, but I cannot believe she is capable of such blatant trickery. She is not, however, a pleasant woman. I daresay you took no notice of either her or her daughter, who has been described as a diamond of the first water.”
There were several conversational starters that might have led Elizabeth off into comment and protestation and self-justification until she became like a dog chasing its tail.
“I have not come here to play games, Lady Hodges,” she said.
“I am happy to hear it,” the lady said. “Games bore me. I can never understand what is so amusing about charades and blindman’s buff and all the rest. Do come and sit on the love seat close to me, and I shall tell you how I plan to welcome you into my family with a summer-long house party at Roxingley. I already have the guest list drawn up—young, high-spirited people who enjoy having fun in the outdoors, and indoors too when the weather is inclement. You will like them. They will make you feel young again. I daresay you feel that your unfortunate first marriage robbed you of your youth and that now, so many years later, you are too old to recapture it. But it is never too late, Lady Overfield, and with your second marriage, you know, you are going to have to keep up or have Colin’s eyes stray to all the beauties with whom he will be constantly surrounded. Come. Sit.”
