Chapter Two

There was an unusual sort of silken rustling noise in the hall of Bridgeford House that morning, and it attracted the attention of most of the staff.

More used to the sedate and leisurely sounds of a bachelor establishment, they found themselves fascinated by the swish of gowns, flutter of delicate laces, tapping of little heels and general hustle and bustle occasioned by the arrival of two such fashionable young ladies.

Lord Allenbridge, standing rather helplessly on his own doorstep, watched as his nieces removed their hats, greeted the housekeeper as if she were an old friend (had they ever even met?), directed the footmen to dispose of their mounds of luggage, and seduced Runcorn (his Runcorn) into finding a suitable home for the mewing kitten—all in the space of what seemed like seconds.

”Uncle, have you breakfasted yet?” asked Penelope. Pip glanced down at his riding clothes and opened his mouth to respond, but he was forestalled.

”Runcorn—would it be possible to procure something to eat? I think we’d all be much better for it.” She smiled winningly at the butler, who so far forgot himself as to grin back.

“Breakfast will be awaiting you in the small salon, Miss, as soon as you and your sister are ready...” The habits of years reasserting themselves, Runcorn turned to Pip rather apologetically, “That is, with your permission, My Lord?”

“Heavens, yes, Runcorn, whatever my nieces require—I’ll change and join them...” drawled Pip, one eyebrow raised at his obviously entranced butler.

”Very good, Sir. This way, ladies. I believe Mrs. McBride can direct you to your rooms.”

And so the bustle receded up the stairs and into the depths of the upper floors behind the housekeeper and his nieces. His Lordship stood blinking in the now-empty hall, staring at an equally befuddled footman, and feeling as if his world had suddenly turned completely on its ear.

The next hour seemed to fly, and before he knew it, Lord Allenbridge had bathed, changed, and was seated in front of a loaded breakfast plate, flanked by two young ladies, who were also displaying a hearty appetite and making short work of fresh toast and Mrs. McBride’s special gooseberry jam.

”Well, girls, now that we have a quiet moment here, I’d like to know what brings you to town today. Not that I wasn’t expecting you...” Pip hastily reassured the twins, who had both looked up as he spoke. “It’s just that in her last letter, Aunt Sophia told me you’d be arriving later in the Season. So, what happened?”

Grace and Penelope exchanged glances. As if in response to an unspoken dialogue, Penelope returned to her toast, while Grace replaced her teacup on its saucer and delicately blotted her lips with a napkin.

“Well, you see, Uncle, it’s like this...” she began, seeming to choose her words carefully. “You know that we’ve been at Miss Millington’s Academy—dear Millie—and we really did quite well in our studies, didn’t we, Pen?”

From around a mouthful of toast, Penelope nodded and mumbled an affirmative.

“And you have been receiving our reports regularly, I know. But we are now the oldest pupils there and, well, it was felt that our appearance and age were beginning to be a...a... distraction.”Apparently satisfied that she had found the right word, Grace took a sip of tea.

At this, a Lordly eyebrow rose.”And who, pray tell, were you distracting? Or should it be ‘whom’”?”

“Er, well...” Grace looked at Penelope for help.

“‘Who’ actually, Uncle Pip, in that particular sentence. ‘Whom’ would be used if you put the word after the verb conjugation—as in ‘you were distracting whom?’” Penelope answered earnestly.

Pip gazed steadily at her, knowing a diversionary tactic when he heard one.

Penelope sighed. “Miss Millington offered a variety of subjects to her pupils, and not all were taught by resident schoolmistresses. For example, she hired a dancing master and the occasional French conversationalist, and now and again there was the opportunity to invite an artist to lecture, and that was a lot of fun. Dear Millie made sure that we were able to enjoy as many advantages as possible, d’you see?”

She gazed at her uncle, who was beginning to. “And let me hazard a guess that on many occasions these visiting instructors would be male? And possibly susceptible to the wiles of a class of budding debutantes all eager to practice the subtle arts of flirtation?” said Pip, dryly.

Both bright heads lowered over their plates and delicate blushes chased over their cheeks in silent acknowledgment of the accuracy of his Lordship’s guess.

Grace was the first to regain her countenance and look back up at Pip. “We really didn’t flirt, Uncle, we were just friendly and did our best to set them at their ease,” she said somewhat defiantly.

“After all, flirting is rather silly. I didn’t learn all kinds of things in order to be able to flutter my eyelashes at some gaping idiot who doesn’t know a sarcophagus from a sacristy. And...” she continued, warming to her subject, “...all this stuff about being presented to the Ton, and going to balls...and...and Almack’s, it may be all very well for some people, but there are other things that interest me too, and I hope I will have your support in pursuing them...”

”And what, exactly, are the ‘all kinds of things’ you learned?” asked Pip with amusement.

“Well, Latin and French, of course, and my German is passable.”

Pip, whose Latin was rusty, whose French might get him a meal, and whose German was non-existent, was impressed and chastened.

”But I really enjoyed my history classes, especially the Antiquities. We had a visitor who’d been to Egypt, and he told us all about the lives led by the Pharaohs—it was so intriguing that I read everything I could lay my hands on about it. Did you know that sometimes they mummified their favourite animals and had them buried with themselves?Of course, they had to remove all the insides and stuff first. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Lord Allenbridge looked down at his plate and saw a rasher of bacon and two pieces of ham inopportunely placed near a couple of kidneys. He pushed the dish away from him, closing his eyes and sighing.

“Well, Grace, I’m very glad that you used your time at Miss Millington’s Academy to absorb a goodly amount of education. Contrary to your opinion, some gentlemen take pleasure in a conversation with an intelligent lady, and are always pleased to find someone who can talk sensibly about a variety of subjects,” said Pip, feeling some defence of the male sex was necessary.

“But a little flirting is acceptable, now and again, Uncle, isn’t it?” asked Penelope in her soft, almost breathless voice.

“Good heavens, yes. I’m afraid the Season would come to a grinding halt without it,” agreed Pip, rather ruefully. “May I assume that you also enjoyed a successful educational experience at Miss Millington’s?”

”Oh, I managed to grasp most of the lessons, but Grace is the one who got all enthusiastic about stuff. I’m afraid I was little better than average in most things,” said Penelope apologetically. “But I did enjoy the literature classes. I love reading.” She smiled at Pip, who suddenly felt that the sun had come out in his breakfast parlour.

He smiled back at the twins and ran a hand unthinkingly through his hair in an action that was rather boyish and at odds with his elegantly mature appearance. The twins shared a grin, and Pip picked up the definite impression that between them, these two girls could “manage” just about anyone and anything and probably had done just that to get themselves to Bridgeford House.

“Begging your pardon, my Lord...”

The door to the parlour opened to admit a young man of sober appearance and quite startlingly red hair. The glasses perched on his nose wobbled dangerously as he set eyes upon the twins at the table, and his waistcoat was seen to swell as he took several deep breaths.

“Come in, Angus, and meet my nieces. Penelope, Grace, I’d like to introduce my invaluable secretary, Mr. Angus Redfearn.” Pip waved the young man towards the table.

The girls welcomed him prettily and were as good as their word in setting him at ease—especially when Grace noted his one modest adornment, a particularly fine tie pin made from a scarab. Angus accepted the invitation to join the table and was soon chatting away to the twins over a cup of tea.

Pip pushed his chair back a little, stretched out his long legs, and, under the pretext of refilling his cup, closely observed the girls.

Physically, there was a strong resemblance, although it was clear they were not identical twins. Penelope’s blonde hair was a warm, sunny shade, while Grace’s had more silver lights. They both shared large, well-shaped sapphire blue eyes and determined mouths—yet there were differences even there.

Grace’s countenance betrayed her quick wits and intelligence, while Penelope’s showed gentleness and compassion. Their figures were neat and not overblown, yet the curves were in all the right places. Pip’s heart turned over as he thought how proud Susan and Patrick would have been of their children, and he made a little silent vow to do his very best for them.

Guilt assailed him for a few moments, as he realised that had he married, his wife would have been able to give these two lovely girls so much more in the way of a “Town” experience. It was quite clear to Pip already that he was going to be sadly lacking in the skills needed to launch the debuts of his nieces, and the necessity of finding some solution became frighteningly pressing.

His face must have reflected something of his thoughts, because Penelope asked, “Uncle Pip, is our chatter bothering you?”

“No, no, not at all, my dear.” Pip surprised himself as the parental endearment popped unbidden out of his mouth. “I’m glad to see that you and Angus have found some areas of conversation, and I can assure you, Grace, that Angus does indeed know a sarcophagus from a sacristy.”

”I realised that, truly, Uncle,” answered Grace immediately. “And he’s been telling us about the Exhibition of Antiquities currently in town. How I would love to see it...”

As this was followed by a rather dramatic sigh and much fluttering of eyelashes, no-one at the table was surprised by the crack of laughter that erupted from Angus, except perhaps Angus himself, who promptly rose from the table, muttering apologies to his Lordship.

“It’s alright, Angus.” Pip was much amused by his studious secretary’s unexpected lapse from propriety. “Why don’t you try to procure some tickets for us to attend the Exhibition? Let’s see, we must make a schedule of activities, and I’m sure that since shopping will be high on the list...” Gleeful blue eyes met gleeful blue eyes. “We’ll plan the trip for the end of the week. Oh, and make sure you get a ticket for yourself?”

”Why how kind you are, Uncle”, said Grace, nodding her approval.

”Th...thank you, my Lord. I’ll see to it immediately.” Angus retreated from the room in complete disorder.

“What a nice young man,” observed Penelope. “Is he a relation, Uncle?”

”Angus Redfearn is the son of one of my dearest friends, Michael Redfearn,” said Pip, watching the faces in front of him.

“You don’t mean Michael Redfearn as in the Earl of Fearnwell, do you?” asked Grace inquisitively.

“Well done, Grace. I see you’ve also made Debrett a part of your studies.Yes, Michael was a neighbour many years ago and now spends most of the year down on his estates. I needed a reliable secretary and one day Angus appeared, full of hope and education, to apply for the position. There was no question in my mind that he was perfect for the job—his older brother Marcus will inherit, so Angus’ career choices were pretty much open.”

”Just to clarify things Uncle Pip, Debrett wasn’t part of our formal studies, but so many of the girls spent hours poring over the entries—and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why—that I became conversant with the families, through no fault of my own,” said Grace firmly.

”Mr. Redfearn seems very efficient. It must be a comfort to have someone to organise one’s affairs and so forth,” mused Penelope.

Lord Allenbridge, who had been quite ruthlessly organising his own affairs for most of his life, affably agreed. But that brought another thought to his mind.

“However, there is an issue we must discuss before we take on too many commitments.”

Two pairs of blue eyes fixed themselves on Pip, who assumed his most formal demeanour.

”It will not be possible for me to escort you to all the festivities to which you will doubtless be invited. Not...” He raised a hand, forestalling comments which were obviously trembling on the lips of his companions, “...that it would not give me great pleasure. But there are many occasions when I, as a humble male, would be quite de trop, in addition to which I must pay attention to those affairs which Angus does not organise for me.”

Two serious faces digested this news. “You’re right, Uncle Pip,” said Grace. “I knew from our friends’ conversation at school that there is usually some sort of relative to chaperone girls through the Season, but we had hoped that you would do.”

“Do we have any available female relations, Uncle?” asked Penelope.

“I’ve gone over the family tree and discovered that, for some reason, the Allenbridges have been blessed with an excess of sons. There’s not one direct female relative who could be invited to take you girls on. Aunt Sophia would have been the perfect choice of course, but you both know how unwell she is...”

The golden heads nodded in agreement.

”So until we get this matter sorted out, we must restrict our activities to those which do not require a proper chaperone for you.”

”Exactly what would those activities be, Uncle Pip?” asked Grace, with some degree of concern. “Are we to be stuck with the lending library? Not that I’d mind, but Penelope does have her heart set on Almack’s.”

”Well, I think we can certainly attend the Exhibition en famille. I can quite properly chaperone you to that, and I can also provide my carriage and Mrs. McBride for any shopping trips...” His eyes ran over the attractive gowns worn by his companions. “From my observations, you have excellent taste. My compliments.” He rose and made a formal bow.

Giggling, the girls rose and answered with elegant curtseys. “It was all Madame de Rougier’s doing, Uncle,” said Penelope. “She was a temporary drawing Mistress, in watercolours, and our French conversationalist, an emigré, and we both liked her very much.”

”In addition to watercolors,” continued Grace, “She spent ages with us and some of the other girls discussing the finer points of fashion, and she had us critique each other’s dresses and figures and hair and so on. We learned a lot.”

“That sort of information will always stand you in good stead. It seems your education was quite well rounded. I suppose that we can also attend small evening functions. Dancing would be limited, of course, because neither of you are formally ‘out’ yet, but I will have a chat with a few people and see what they recommend as far as chaperonage goes. We will come up with something.”

Pip caught himself as he ran his hand through the hair again, though not in time to stop Grace and Penelope’s smiles. “In the meantime...” he said, getting up from the table, “I suggest you both make yourselves at home and discuss plans with Mrs. McBride. My carriage will be at your disposal, and Angus knows which shops we patronise. I’ll spend my time trying to discover a solution to our chaperone problem. I’m sure something will occur to me.”

“We are too, Uncle Pip. I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t do...,” said Penelope. “The other girls were always rather envious of our good fortune in having you for an uncle.”

“Pshaw,” interrupted Grace rather inelegantly. “They were hoping for an introduction, that’s all. Even when we pointed out that you were old enough to be their father, they still persisted. So silly.” With a snort, she and Penelope left the room, chattering happily away with each other.

Lord Allenbridge remained where he was, wondering if his aged bones would support a step across the carpet, and if he might possibly have the gout and not be aware of it.

“Oh God.”

Torn by a desire to shout after the departing girls that he wasn’t that old, and relief that he was not about to face the torture of being introduced to a horde of just-presented, simpering debutantes as an eligible parti, Pip sighed.

More and more, it was becoming apparent that a female chaperone was going to be a vital necessity if he was to survive the next few months, and that action was immediately called for.

Striding across the room in an amazingly healthy manner for an old man, he opened the door and shouted to his secretary. “Angus, bring me my Debrett— to the study, Now.”.