She had lived her whole life at Wakefield Manor. But she had enjoyed a wonderful childhood growing up in the country, running wild like a tomboy, and often getting into trouble. She remembered how Tommy and she used to hide in the loft of the Huntington stables and listen to old Peter, the head groom. He was always swearing and talking to himself and the horses. Christina learned the most unlady-like words from old Peter, most of which she didn’t understand. But one day Tommy’s father discovered them hiding in the loft. They both got a severe scolding, and Christina was not allowed near the Huntington stables for a very long time.
Christina was no longer the tomboy she once was. She wore dresses now instead of the breeches Johnsy had made for her because she was always getting dirty and tearing her clothes. She was a lady now, and she enjoyed being one.
Christina finished bathing and dressed in a cool cotton dress with a floral pattern. She realized it wasn’t in fashion, but she wanted to be comfortable as she did her shopping. She combed out her long golden hair and then pinned it up into a mass of curls and ringlets. Picking up the bonnet she would wear, she went downstairs to breakfast.
She found the dining room through one of the doors off the hall. John was sitting at the huge table with Howard and Kathren Yeats. She could smell the sweet aroma of ham and apple turnovers, for the table was laden with them and with eggs and muffins.
“Christina, my dear. I can’t tell you how pleased we are to have you here.” Kathren Yeats smiled at her with soft gray eyes. “We’ve just been telling John of the parties that we’ve been invited to, and there will be a grand ball for you to attend before your stay is over.”
Howard Yeats chimed in. “To start you off, there’s a formal dinner tonight at a friend’s house. But don’t worry—the younger crowd will be there,” he laughed.
Howard and Kathren Yeats were in their late forties, a cheerful and robust couple always on the go and loving every minute of it. Christina and John had known them always, for they were old friends of the family.
“I can’t wait to get out and see the city!” Christina said enthusiastically, putting something from each dish on her plate. “I want to get my shopping done today. Will you join me, Kathren?”
“Of course, my dear. We’ll go to Bond Street. It’s just around the corner and simply packed with shops.”
“I thought I would join you myself, since I couldn’t get back to sleep. There are a few things I have to pick up anyway,” John remarked. He wasn’t about to let Crissy go out into the dangerous city without him, even if Kathren Yeats was along.
John still looked tired, but perhaps he was as excited as she was, Christina thought. A maid filled her cup with steaming hot tea as she gulped down mouthfuls of savory ham and eggs.
“I’ll be just a minute,” Christina said, noticing they were all finished eating.
“Take your time, child,” Howard Yeats said, an amused expression on his ruddy face. “You have all the time in the world.”
“Howard’s right, Crissy. Don’t eat so fast,” John scolded her. “You will have to delay your shopping for a stomach-ache.”
They all laughed, but Christina didn’t slow down. She wanted to be on her way. She hadn’t expected to have to dress formally their first night here. She had only one evening gown, which she had made for Lord Huntington’s last ball.
They spent the whole morning and part of the afternoon going from one shop to another. There were a couple of shops that featured ready-made clothes, but Christina could find only three street dresses that suited her fancy, with slippers and bonnets to match. She could find no evening gowns, however, so they spent the rest of the time having her measurements taken and choosing materials and trims. She ordered three gowns and two more street dresses, all with matching accessories.
The seamstress said it would take at least four days to complete the outfits, but that she would start on the gowns first so Christina might have them earlier. They finally returned home and had a light lunch, then napped.
That evening all tongues were set to wagging when Christina and John Wakefield made their entrance at the dinner party. They were a striking pair with their blond hair and extreme good looks. Christina felt out of place with her deep-violet evening gown, because all the other young women were wearing light pastels. But she was reassured when John whispered, “You outshine them all, Crissy.”
Their hosts took them around to meet the other guests, and Christina enjoyed every minute of it. The women flirted boldly with John, and this shocked her a bit. But she was even more shocked by the way the men looked at her, as if undressing her with their eyes. She supposed she had a lot to learn about city people.
The dinner was served in a large dining room, with two huge chandeliers hanging above the table. Christina was seated between two young gentlemen who lavished far too many compliments on her. The man on her left, Mr. Peter Browne, had an annoying habit of taking hold of her hand while talking to her. Sir Charles Buttler, on her right, had limpid blue eyes that wouldn’t leave her for a minute. Both men vied for her attentions, each boasting and trying to outdo the other.
After the meal was finished, the women retired to the drawing room and left the men to their brandy and cigars. Christina would have preferred to remain with the men and discuss politics or world affairs. Instead, she was forced to listen to all the latest gossip about people she didn’t know.
“You know, my dear, that man has insulted every pretty young girl that his brother, Paul Caxton, has introduced to him. It’s not human the way he shuns them,” Christina overheard a dowager say to her friend.
“It’s true that he doesn’t seem interested in women. He will not even dance. You don’t think he is ah—odd, do you? You know—the kind of man who doesn’t care for women?” the other replied.
“How can you say that when he looks so virile? Every eligible young woman in town would love to land him—no matter how badly he treats them.”
Christina wondered slightly who the dowagers were talking about, but she didn’t really care. She was immensely relieved when she and John were finally able to leave. In the coach on the way home, John smiled mischievously.
“You know, Crissy, three young admirers of yours cornered me separately in the den to ask if they could call on you.”
“Really, John?” she replied, yawning. “What did you tell them?”
“I said that you were very discriminating in your tastes, and that you wouldn’t give tuppence for the lot of them.”
Christina’s eyes flew open. “John, you didn’t!” she gasped. “I’ll never be able to show my face again!”
Howard Yeats burst out laughing. “You’re very gullible tonight, Christina. Where has your sense of humor gone?”
