She murmured something unintelligible, and her hand touched his cheek. What she had meant was not just that nobody could be as happy as they were, though it was true, but that she thought that Elizabeth was refusing to admit the possibility of such happiness. Thinking about it tonight was too difficult, so she let herself drift, secure in her own deep contentment, until the carriage drew up at her own door.
21
CHAPTER TWO
The Honourable Amelia Ashling made no attempt to conceal her delight at the success of her first ball, and positively bounced into her cousin’s room next morning, her hair still in curling papers, and eager to discuss the previous evening in minute detail. Youthful excitement, rather than any puffed-up idea of her own worth, was the cause of these transports, and, beyond requesting that her cousin did not make her spill her morning chocolate on the coverlet, Elizabeth did nothing to restrain her. After all, a girl’s first ball ought to be memorable. Hers had been, and she had foreseen nothing but pleasure for the rest of the Season. It had been a delusion, but it would be cruel to ruin Amelia’s innocent delight. Having lived in her aunt’s house since she was thirteen, Elizabeth had been more of an older sister to her cousins Amelia, nearly four years her junior, and the even younger Anne. She held her sweet-natured but biddable cousin in deep affection, and so Elizabeth sat in bed and listened patiently to the litany of introductions,22interjecting only the occasional murmured agreement.
‘Did you not think Isabella Crowthorne looked a positive fright in that dress cluttered about with knots of pink ribbon? Mama says that simplicity is best, and although I would have liked those paste buttons we saw in the haberdasher’s, I know she was right not to let me purchase them for my gown last night. Mama says …’
It was apparent that Amelia had developed no firm thoughts of her own, and was currently an echo of her mother. Elizabeth secretly hoped that, as she unfurled her petals, she would gain the confidence to hold her own opinions, not least because it would be unfortunate if she accepted the offer of a man simply because her mama told her it was what she should do.
‘… And Mama says that Lady Cowper actually sought her out to say she was delighted to have been the one to provide the vouchers for Almack’s, having observed us last week, and she said to Mama that she thought I would “break hearts”.’ Amelia giggled. ‘Me! Was there ever anything so funny? Why, when you think of how little attention James’s friends paid me at Christmas …’
Elizabeth smiled. It was hardly likely that Amelia’s brother’s Oxford friends, barely two years older than Amelia herself, would think of his sister, still officially in the schoolroom, in a romantic light. This was especially true since James treated his nearest sibling with a studied casual air that belied their underlying deep affection. However, it would not be prudent to tell Amelia this. She was a generally sweet-tempered girl, not prone to scowls and sulks, and willing, thus far, to be guided entirely by her mama.23Elizabeth wondered whether she was so biddable because she simply sailed through life expecting everything to go well, or because it was easier not to upset her parent. Amelia had proved an able pupil at music and her watercolours, of which her mama made much, but was not given to deep thought. She would, thought Elizabeth, be the perfect wife for a man of moderate intellect who would delight in a helpmeet who would defer to him with any problem beyond the running of the house, and never challenge his authority. If Elizabeth thought that lily-livered, she did at least accept that it would make for a peaceful and contented existence. For herself, she was inclined to think she would be driven to distraction, especially since men had a vastly inflated idea of their own importance. She was grateful that she had escaped the confines that marriage would have put upon her, and had resolved to revel in the freedom of her single state rather than bemoan spinsterhood.
‘I am sure Lady Cowper was paying your mama a compliment as much as you, Cousin, and as long as you do not actually set out to “break hearts”, for that is not appealing in a girl, you will be very popular.’
‘You sound like old Aunt Risborough.’ Amelia grinned, and her eyes twinkled. ‘But you are barely four years my senior, so I do not know why you should want to be like her. You will be wearing quizzy hats and moth-eaten sables like she does, next.’
‘Oh no!’ Elizabeth laughed. ‘Not the sad sables! They really are atrocious, are they not? And how can they be so moth-eaten when they reek of camphor?’
‘Perhaps it is Aunt Risborough who smells of camphor.’
24Both young ladies collapsed in giggles for a moment, then Amelia reverted to the ball.
‘By the time I went to bed, my feet positively ached from dancing.’
‘That must have been that man who trod on your foot.’
‘Oh, how did you know? There was one!’
‘Indeed, and you should have warned me, for he trod on mine later. I would have cried off and had him fetch me a glass of champagne instead, had I known. I only danced because my aunt positively pushed the man at me. I am sure he had no control over his lower limbs at all. He danced like a frog.’
‘He was quite amusing and very polite, except that he did not even seem to notice when he crushed my toes. I was glad that Mama had given me strict orders not to dance more than once with any gentleman, for he did request a second.’
‘I doubt any woman would care to dance twice with him.’
‘True. Nor would I have wished to stand up with Sir Lucius Radstock. He dances well, but he is very dry. He spoke to us while you were with Lady Brightlingsea. Mama seemed to find him amusing but I think he was mocking me a little, although I cannot be sure.’ She frowned, then her brows lifted. ‘But I would not have minded dancing again with Lord Bensthorpe, or Mr Selborne.’ She blushed. ‘He said that his evening was quite ruined when I refused hima quadrille.’
‘Yes,’ responded Elizabeth drily, ‘I did notice him withdraw to the card room shortly afterwards.’
‘Wretch!’ Amelia pouted, but mirth bubbled up again.
25Elizabeth smiled, and set her chocolate cup to one side. ‘Now, you must leave me to get up. I am going riding in the park this morning.’
‘Oh, with whom?’
‘Just a groom. You see, I am going for the riding, not the company. Mind you, if that hack my Uncle Chalford hired turns out to be anything more than a slug, I shall be surprised.’ She coloured. ‘I am sorry, that was ungracious. It is very good of him to find me a horse, but his idea of a mount suitable for a lady is very … staid.’
‘Mama never really liked horses, and I prefer to be in a carriage, so I suppose …’
‘No, no. There is no fault, excepting mine. I only wish I could have brought Pallas up with us for the Season, but there.’ She sighed. ‘No point bemoaning the fact now, though, so off with you. Oh, and I fear I shall not see you after luncheon, for I believe you are to visit Lady Ellesmere this afternoon, and I am engaged to visit Lady Godmanchester.’
With which she shooed Miss Amelia from the bed and rang for Ditcham.
Elizabeth could not but dwell upon the evening herself, as Ditcham twisted her hair into a knot on the top of her head. Amelia might regard it as a triumphant dream, but for Elizabeth it had dissolved into a nightmare. At first she had thought herself at ease and under control, and indeed, until shortly after the Godmanchesters had left, she had been enjoying herself, in a mild way. Then it had happened, an encounter that shattered her equilibrium. She had accepted that she was bound to meet her erstwhile suitor, Henry26Freshford, at some point. He was the Viscount Syston now, and she knew that he had married, but she was praying she might not have to greet them in the house where they had met, and in such similar circumstances. It would be almost too much to bear. Elizabeth was unconsciously focusing upon the ignominy of three years ago, wondering if it would be brought into people’s minds again, and she would be the object of pitying looks and snide remarks. Whilst she was in fact spared Henry, she suffered almost as great a misfortune in that she had come face to face with Aurelia Northcott, who had made a brilliant match, and who had seen herself as Elizabeth’s rival at her come-out. Perhaps it had been that they had looked too alike, both brunettes, both with good complexions and regular features. If Miss Northcott had the more perfect mouth, there were many to swear Miss Ashling had the finer, and more naturally arching brows, and if Miss Northcott had the sweeter singing voice, Miss Ashling was the better dancer. The main difference between them had been ambition; Aurelia Northcott had set out to make as stunning a match as her modest fortune would permit, and woe betide any whom she saw as standing in her way. Elizabeth did not aspire to more than the vague wish that some eligible and reasonably handsome man would appear out of nowhere and sweep her off her nimble little feet, but Miss Northcott saw every man who so much as cast Elizabeth an admiring glance as a recusant who ought to be worshipping her elegant self. That Henry Freshford had looked favourably on her for a short time only, and had then transferred his adoration, most perfidiously, to Elizabeth Ashling, was a personal27affront. It rankled until the moment when it was rendered unimportant by her own conquest of a marquis, who had been a widower some years and was not considered likely to remarry. He might be forty, and prone to ponderous witticisms, but Lord Rendlesham was perfectly willing and able to keep Aurelia Northcott in the style she deemed her right, would place her on as high a pedestal as she demanded, and give her a title to which she assumed every other debutante must aspire. Not content merely with her own success, she had revelled in Miss Ashling’s sudden ignominious withdrawal from the ‘lists’, vanquished and unwed.
The Marchioness of Rendlesham had chosen to appear fashionably late at the Duchess of Devonshire’s ball, having already made an appearance at Lady Merton’s rather overshadowed rout earlier in the evening. It had given her the chance to enjoy that lady’s chagrin at having picked the worst of dates for her party.
