“There’s something else you should know. Little Alice was dusting in the hallway outside her ladyship’s bedchamber and heard Elvira tell her ladyship the servants believed your mother knew things before they happened. She concocted medicines for servants who became ill, and the household was healthy. Evidently they believed your mother was magic and passed it on to you. Just maybe Averil is afraid you will give her a wart on the end of her nose or make her bosom disappear,” and Cilly laughed.
“Papa once told me Mama learned medicinal recipes fromher own grandmother, nothing more nothing less. As to her knowing things …” Cam shrugged, sighed. “If only I could manufacture a wart.”
Cilly said, “Henry told me when he accompanied you to Westminster Palace yesterday you actually sat on a bench with a young gentleman who was a perfect stranger and he didn’t know if he could fight the gentleman off if he became forward. Then he said, in a shocked voice, mind you, that you laughed and the two of you had your heads together, all that before you met your father. Henry said at least fourteen minutes passed with the two of you stark alone.”
Cam laughed. “Fourteen minutes? It seemed like no more than two minutes. I quite liked Mr. Ivanov, Cilly. And Henry stood near, ready to spring into action should the need arise. Oh yes, Henry puffed himself up, claimed he would allow no gentleman to besmirch the Whitsonby honor. But it was clear to all of us Henry was impressed with the young man.”
Cam looked wicked. “Actually, I think if there was any forward behavior it would have been on my part. I have to say the young gentleman is beautiful. And those eyes of his—a shocking wild blue.”
Cilly arched a perfect brow at this information. There was a good deal of interest in Cam’s voice and wasn’t that unexpected? “Now twirl around slowly, Cam, let me see you display yourself.”
Cam dutifully shook out her skirts, did a slow pirouette.
“I must say the gown is perfect for you. The blue material shimmers, makes your skin glow.”
“And it’s so lightweight, Cilly, I feel like a feather. I’ll wager I could raise the skirts and outrun a cutpurse. And don’t you think it sparkles like stars in the candlelight?” She turned to look at herself again in the mirror.
“That image with you running like a hoyden with your knees showing burns my eyeballs. Now, the style suits you,thankfully no bows or flounces. You have lovely shoulders and they’re on full display. I very much like the style with the fitted short sleeves and the bodice fitted at the waist—and the arrowing down a point, very elegant.”
Cam thought so too. She particularly liked the gentle pleats flowing from her waist, and only two petticoats to give it a lovely bell shape. “You know Father took me to Madame Giselle, just the two of us. He chose the gown and the material, said I would look far more elegant than the queen because I was so much taller and my hair was more interesting. He then allowed it was perfect. Then again, he’s my father.”
Cilly twitched another pleat into place, stood back. “His lordship has an excellent eye.”
Why did he want her to wear it tonight? That toad Teddy Jewel wasn’t coming, but maybe—
“Oh yes, Henry also admitted, after a glass of Mr. Osbourne’s ale, that even from a man’s point of view, he recognized young Mr. Ivanov was a prime beaut.”
Cam smiled. “He is, Cilly. He’s quite the handsomest young man I’ve ever met here. But more important, he has a brain and wit and he made me laugh.”
“A brain and wit are all well and good, but does he have money? Breeding? Does he have a sweet breath and no nasty habits?”
Cam laughed. “His breath is ambrosia and any bad habits he might have can’t be all that nasty, he’s too young for any unpleasant masculine habits to have embedded themselves in deep. And he’s foreign, Cilly, his real name is Alexi and he’s Ukrainian.”
“Oh dear.”
Cam laughed again, patted Cilly’s arm and sailed out of her bedchamber. She was humming as she walked down the long hallway with its deep inset niches, each with a bust of a former Whitsonby viscount going back three hundred years,and only one viscountess from the last century wearing an incredible white wig towering nearly to the top of the niche and looked to weigh three stone.
She stood a moment at the top of the wide staircase and looked down to the large chessboard entryway. She remembered clearly sliding down the staircase to an appalled Osbourne who nonetheless caught her and set her on her feet. So many years ago, a lovely memory. She drew a deep breath. Soon she would see Alex Ivanov.
“Well, and don’t you look as well as possible for a beanpole?” Eliza’s frown quickly smoothed out because Claudine, her maid, had told her if a lady wrinkled her forehead it made a line that never left, even after you were put in the ground.
“Why are you wearing that gown? Averil wasn’t happy our father took you shopping and selected it for you, but then she smiled, said he must have done it because you needed to look your best to encourage Teddy to propose, make him forget at least for a little while what you’re really like.
“But alas, he’s not coming tonight and surely the gown is much too fine for the gentlemen who are coming to dinner, financial men Averil told me, crashing bores, no doubt, and who cares what they think? At least Winnie will be here to amuse me. A pity you don’t have time to change into a gown more fitting for you.”
The flow of insults didn’t make a dent in Cam’s excitement. She only smiled at her sister, wondered what she’d think of Alex Ivanov.
CHAPTER 14
Wednesday night
Osbourne quite liked Ryder Sherbrooke and thus unbent and accorded him a toothful smile when he opened the front door to Whitsonby House.
“Good evening, sir. Allow me to say too much time has passed since you have dined with us. His lordship is quite pleased you could come.” He eyed the handsome young man beside him and decided if he was with Mr. Sherbrooke he was worthy of a nod, which he executed with a king’s condescension. “And this is Mr. Ivanov.”
Ryder asked, “How are Mrs. Osbourne and your sons?”
“They are in excellent health, thank you for inquiring, sir. His lordship and ladyship are in the drawing room. Please follow me, Mr. Sherbrooke, Mr. Ivanov.” He marched like a Prussian general to the white-painted double doors, back straight as a board, his full head of white hair glimmering in the candlelight. He knocked lightly, opened them, and announced in a deep, plummy voice, “Mr. Sherbrooke and Mr. Ivanov.”
