Chapter Eight

Matthew approached Lady Thurston's house with some trepidation. Masterson had explained what could be expected when three ladies gathered to compare notes and it had sent a chill down his spine. He did not have sisters himself so could not be sure of the veracity of the tale his valet had told, but it was enough for him to feel on edge.

All he wished to do was have a moment with Lady Constance, without the company of Lady Juniper or Miss Semper. Unfortunately, all his father wished to do was maneuver Lady Juniper and Miss Semper in his direction.

At some point, he was going to have to have a direct conversation with his father regarding his plans. He would not, upon pain of death, pursue either of those two heiresses. One was pinched and unpleasant and the other was a frothy fairy cake staggering round on two short legs.

What he was going to do about the estate's financial shortfalls he did not yet know, but a dowry was not the solution.

He worked to shut off unpleasant thoughts of financial shortfalls. Lady Constance would be in the ballroom somewhere and that would be very pleasant indeed. He was determined to somehow find himself sitting next to the lady at supper, after everyone had suffered through whatever Lady Thurston had prepared for them.

He found Lady Thurston at the door in a high state of nerves and agitation. Her cheeks were downright scarlet, her eyes glittered, and she seemed almost out of breath. She wore a voluminous black cape that covered whatever she wore underneath. He understood from last year she'd been in a nightdress, so who knew.

She greeted him kindly enough, but she ended the greeting by saying, "Prepare to experience some exhilarating highs and excruciating lows this evening, Lord Bramley. The temperature of my tableau is decidedly up this year."

Matthew suspected that whatever they were to witness this night, it would not be particularly dignified. Of course, if reports were accurate, it never was.

The ballroom had been transformed into something resembling a theater, with a stage at the top end and boxes set up round the perimeter. Each box had the name of the party to occupy it on the front.

"Ah, I have spied Lady Juniper and Miss Semper already," the earl said. "They sit together."

Matthew followed his father's gaze. Then he took in a breath. Lady Constance was in the box too, and looking so lovely.

But what was she doing there? Why must she be with Lady Juniper? Had they not had enough company at the blasted comparing notes tea? What had they talked about that they felt the need to keep talking?

Lady Juniper met his gaze and she very strangely smiled at him. It was not an expression he was accustomed to seeing from that lady. And then, Miss Semper was changed too. She'd garnered the reputation of drowning in bits and bobs and ruffles and had been ludicrously dressed for the regatta, but now that seemed to have changed. She wore an elegant dark velvet dress that did something well for her.

Though Miss Semper looked well, she did not look as well as Lady Constance, of course. Nobody did. That lady's deep brown hair shined in the candlelight and she wore dark green silk. She was the picture of elegance.

"I do not see why Lady Constance must be with them," the earl said, a petulant tone creeping into his voice.

Matthew's mother patted the earl's arm and said, "It is the way of the world, dear."

"I don't see why," the earl said. "Anyway, why must everything be the way of the world? Is the world writing you letters to tell you about its ways?"

Every so often, the earl got fed up with things being the way of the world. Fortunately, this never seemed to discompose Matthew's mother.

She laughed and said, "I hardly need the world to write me letters. I am a woman, and women understand these things instinctively."

Not surprisingly, his father had no answer to that. Neither he nor Matthew had the first idea of what women instinctively understood.

Though Matthew and the earl had different reasons for wondering why Lady Constance should sit with those two ladies, they did both wonder about it.

Still, there she was and he would go over. Really, it would not matter if she sat with Napoleon, he would go over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Here he comes," Lady Juniper whispered.

Constance could see that for herself, of course. She'd seen Lord Bramley as soon as he'd entered the ballroom. He was a glorious specimen of a man and he nearly took her breath away.

Oh how she wished to run her hands through his dusky hair and trace his strong jaw.

She'd done her very best over the past days to not think of him, with little success. She knew she should not think of him until she understood his real purpose. Did he somehow know of her money? Was that why he seemed to pay her special attention?

Was she being logical in attempting to slow her developing feelings or was she being insecure in imagining that a man like that could not have any real interest in her?

She'd been so at sixes and sevens over it that she'd written a long letter to Lady Jane and expected a scolding reply from that lady any day. Still, she'd had to pour her feelings onto paper. One of the points she had written about was could she ever wed a man who would wed her for her fortune.

Naturally, the answer was no. She had the example of Lady Jane's own mother to guide her. However, were she to face the circumstance, it would be very tempting to say yes and very hard to say no. Constance did not believe that she would ever be as struck by any other gentleman as she had been with Lord Bramley. It was as if he were a lodestone and she were smith's filings—she was inexorably drawn to him.

Now that the plan to get to the bottom of Lord Bramley's intentions was moments from commencing, it all seemed rather mad. If Lady Jane was to be told of the scheme, she would tell Constance that her mind had gone off to summer in Brighton without her. But what else was she to do? She had to know Lord Bramley's motivations. She had to know for certain.

Lord Bramley bowed. "Lady Constance, Lady Juniper, Miss Semper."

"Lord Bramley," Lady Juniper said, "I was hoping to encounter you."

"Were you?" Lord Bramley said.

Constance could see well enough that the idea of Lady Juniper being eager to see him came as a surprise. While Lady Juniper said she could get round having clearly disdained him from the start, it seemed a very big leap.

"I must explain something to you, Lord Bramley," Lady Juniper said, "as I am afraid I have been forced to explain to some others. You see, over the past weeks I have been distraught over my great aunt's health. Fortunately, she has managed to pull through. Unfortunately, I fear some I have encountered during this trying time, yourself included, bore the brunt of my rudeness. I was quite overcome with terror and sadness over the idea of losing her, you see."

"I am sorry, I hadn't known," Lord Bramley said.

Constance pressed her lips together. Of course he had not known. What a story.

"So now I am determined to make amends, if you would be so kind."

"Naturally, of course, think nothing of it," Lord Bramley said.

"I am afraid that will not suffice," Lady Juniper said.

"No?"

"If you will be so good as to escort me into supper, I would continue to make amends," Lady Juniper said.

"Supper?" Lord Bramley said.

Constance thought he rather resembled a trapped animal looking for a weakness on the cage door.

"I knew you would not mind," Lady Juniper said. "Very considerate of you."

Lady Juniper was extraordinary. Lord Bramley had not in fact agreed to it. She'd just pretended that he had and now he had no chance of escaping the cage she had craftily lured him into.

Constance was at once thrilled that the gambit was successful, and despairing over the idea that she was not the lady being escorted into supper by Lord Bramley. But, perhaps she could sit nearby and listen to what was said. If he were to remain as standoffish with Lady Juniper as he was this moment, that would be a very good sign.

"Everyone, do find your boxes," Lady Burberry called. "We are ready to begin."

Lord Bramley, though he looked as if he wished to say something, bowed and hurried away.

"That went very well indeed," Lady Juniper said.

"I do not know how you kept your head," Miss Semper said. "I nearly lost mine and I was only watching."

Constance felt much the same. Somehow, Lady Juniper had become the general and she and Miss Semper were her willing troops.

"I realized long ago," Lady Juniper said, "that nearly anything can be accomplished if one approaches the thing with confidence."

Perhaps Lady Juniper was right. An abundance of confidence was the one thing Constance had always lacked and it did not seem to have done her any favors. Though, she was not certain she aspired to Lady Juniper's level of confidence—she did not think anybody but Lady Juniper could carry it off.

"Dear ladies, esteemed gentlemen," Lady Burberry said. "Every year we gather here to witness our dear Lady Thurston's poetical tableau. I know I speak for everyone when I say I am always deeply moved by the performance."

Somebody, and it may have been Lord Thurston, snorted.

Lady Burberry determinedly ignored the interruption. "With no further ado, I give you Lady Thurston and her supporting actors."

There was polite applause, and under the butler's stern eye, two footmen wrestled with the curtains that had been pulled across the stage. Getting them open after some struggle, the two young men looked grateful to be done with it and hurried away.

The scene that was before them was mysterious. Lady Thurston stood in the center of four other women. All of them wore voluminous black capes, as if they came to tell a tale of gothic horror. They were all very grim-faced and Constance could not imagine what would come next.

In a surprisingly booming voice, Lady Thurston said, "In a usual year, I would use my poetical tableau to give words to my deepest and most personal feelings. Sadly, that is not to be the case this year. A certain person who identifies himself as my husband has forbidden me to express my own feelings."

All eyes turned toward Lord Thurston. He sat smiling and nodding and appearing very satisfied.

"Therefore," Lady Thurston continued, "I will use my considerable talents to tell you of another lady, who is like me but not me, and another husband, who is like him but not him. I give you, Lady Thursby's complaint—one woman's brave fight to announce the truth to the world."

Eyes drifted back to Lord Thurston. Or Lord Thursby as he was to be known this evening. That gentleman sat fists balled, looking some combination of incensed and frightened.

"Lady Thursby has eyes," Lady Thurston said, "and she will speak what she sees. All around her, she sees silks and satins in the latest fashions."

At this cue, the four ladies on the stage surrounding Lady Thurston, or Thursby, threw off their robes to in fact reveal lovely silk and satin dresses.

"What else does Lady Thursby see?" Lady Thurston asked, looking round the room as if she were searching for something.

She paused, dramatically looked down, and then threw off her cape.

"Lady Thursby sees she is dressed in poverty! In last year's cuts and fabrics!"

Lady Thurston's friends who had taken the stage with her took that moment to recoil in horror away from the lady.

Constance put her hand to her mouth to stop the gasp that had already escaped some others.

Lady Thurston stood in a costume made of dirty rags sewn haphazardly together and of such dilapidation that a chimney sweep would have thrown it all in a bin as being well past its time. Constance thought the rags were unlikely to have anything to do with last year's fashion, but she supposed Lady Thurston meant to say they might as well have.

"Will Lady Thursby hide the truth?" Lady Thurston shouted in her rags.

Her friends peeked back at her and shook their heads, as if to acknowledge that it would be absurd for any lady to hide such a truth.

"Will Lady Thursby be silenced? No, if she has a feeling, she will express it. If she is forced to wear rags, she will show it. Is it unreasonable that Lady Thursby should wish for a live-in modiste? Is it outrageous that she should wish to keep up with the fashion of the day? Is it untenable that this lady should wish for new jewels to go with the fashion of the day? No! What is unreasonable is a shouting across a dining table by a certain Lord Thursby, demanding Lady Thursby speak no more of these modest wants! Lady Thursby may live the life of a pauper, dressed in rags, but she will not be silenced. Lady Thursby cannot be contained."

"Obviously not," Lord Thurston said, storming out of the ballroom.

Lady Thurston watched him go and looked not at all perturbed over it. Constance could hardly imagine what their private conversations were like.

"Lady Thursby," Lady Thurston fairly shouted, "shows the world the truth and remains victorious!"

There was a moment's silence, as it did take the audience some time to realize that this, whatever it was, had come to an end. Someone somewhere became cognizant of it and started the applause.

"Gracious," Constance whispered.

Lady Juniper snorted. "Lord Thurston was outfoxed. I admire Lady Thurston for keeping her nerve—she will not be silenced, after all."

Miss Semper sat motionless, blinking as if to assure herself that she was awake.

"Well," Lady Juniper said, "now that's done, I'd better go throw myself at Lord Bramley. If I am not mistaken, he'll pretend at forgetting he was to take me into supper and will need reminding."

Lady Juniper leapt up and let herself out of their theater box, leaving Constance with Miss Semper.

"I wonder what we should do now," Miss Semper said. "It's not like a ball, where your last partner takes you into supper."

Constance had wondered the same thing, but she'd speedily come to a conclusion. "We ought to go in with my parents," she said. "You've come with Lady Juniper and now that she's gone off with Lord Bramley, it might be awkward for you to go with her father."

"Rather," Miss Semper said. "He seemed as if he hardly knew why I was in his carriage to begin."

"Come, we will find my mother and we will see if we can sit somewhere nearby Lady Juniper and Lord Bramley. Perhaps we can overhear."

"You are very clever, Lady Constance," Miss Semper said.

"Not as clever as Lady Juniper," Constance said, laughing.

Before they could set off to execute this plan, a gentleman approached. "Lady Constance, Miss Semper," the gentleman said, bowing. "Mr. Frederick Ludwig, eldest son of Baron Finster."

The gentleman was long and lean, with a Roman nose and hooded eyes. Constance supposed he would be considered to have average looks—they certainly did not compare to Lord Bramley, but then no gentleman did compare to him.

As for his sudden arrival, Constance did not quite know what to make of Mr. Ludwig. Was it usual that a gentleman who was unknown to a lady just walked up and introduced himself?

"I am sure you are aware of the arrangements for supper at this particular entertainment?" Mr. Ludwig asked.

Constance and Miss Semper looked at each other. Constance said, "The arrangements?"

"Ah, perhaps not," Mr. Ludwig said smoothly. "You see, even though this is not a ball, we are in a private ballroom so may consider ourselves introduced. As there has been no last set of dancing, single gentlemen are expected to approach ladies to escort them into supper. When I saw two such visions of loveliness in one box, naturally I hurried over before I was crowded out by competitors."

"That is very kindly expressed," Constance said, though really she said it just to say something. While she did not consider herself ugly, a vision of loveliness was going a bit far.

"Yes, very kind, I'm sure," Miss Semper said.

"May I?" Mr. Ludwig asked, holding out two arms.

Constance glanced at Miss Semper. That lady shrugged. She supposed they ought to go with the gentleman, as she did not see a way to refuse.

She would not have picked out Mr. Ludwig as someone she particularly wished to know, but he seemed harmless enough.

In any case, perhaps he knew Lord Bramley and would be interested in singing his praises.