Chapter Five
S uffering from a megrim all afternoon, Purity's mood was soured, and she would have preferred remaining home, resting on her bed. However, having decided to assist Foxford, as she now thought of him familiarly, she was unwilling not to show up as promised.
Thus, on the eve of Lord Rutherly's ball, she dressed in a new silver satin gown, had her hair dressed with a spray of small silver-painted leaves, and set out accompanied by her mother.
From the first moment Purity spotted her "challenge," she nearly called it off. His attire was all wrong for the occasion. Strange! She was sure he'd been appropriately dressed both at Lansdowne House and at the Fenwicks' party.
Now, however, not only was his hair mussed, but he also wore fawn-colored trousers as if out for a daytime jaunt rather than the desired black or, at the very least, a dark blue or gray check. Worse, his cravat was neither black nor white, nor did his waistcoat match anything. Instead, the former was pale blue, and the latter was a garish clashing vest in orange and black brocade. And no sign of a tailcoat but instead a frock coat.
Her poor eyes!
When he spotted her, he lifted a hand and waved before exclaiming loudly, "Lady Purity, well met."
She might have been imagining it, but it seemed a hush fell over the bustling, noisy ballroom, and all eyes turned toward him. Upon seeing where he was looking, the heads swiveled in her direction.
"Who is that?" her mother, Caroline Diamond, asked. "And why is he calling out your name like a farmer to his pigs?"
"He is Lord Foxford."
"The baron recently returned from France?" Clearly, her mother had read the papers.
"Yes, Mother. I was partnered with him at Lord and Lady Fenwick's dinner party."
"I see. We had best go in his direction before he starts hollering again. Perhaps he doesn't know anyone else."
"Perhaps he was raised in a forest by wolves," Purity muttered.
Her mother chuckled. Foxford met them halfway and stared rudely.
"Is this your sister you mentioned, the one who makes people happy?"
Purity sighed softly. Hadn't she warned him about offering flummery?
Such overt flattery worked only on the very young who didn't know it for a jest or on the extremely aged who understood it as a game. Since her mother, the countess, was neither, it was insulting.
Yet because Caroline Diamond was well-bred, she gave the merest disapproving shake of her head.
"Lord Foxford," Purity began, "may I present my mother, Lady Diamond?"
"The pleasure is all mine," he replied.
Without waiting for her mother to offer her hand, he reached out and snatched it, drawing it to him so swiftly, he yanked her a step closer. Then he kissed her gloved hand with a loud smacking of his lips.
Her mother glanced at Purity with her lovely green eyes wide.
"What a different apple each of you are and yet from the same tree," Foxford said. "A flaming redhead and a crow's wing of a daughter. One can almost wonder if she is really yours."
"Did you grow up in England?" Lady Diamond asked.
"Why, yes," Foxford replied, cocking his head curiously.
"Then I cannot imagine how a man of your standing could be so much of a spoony loggerhead. I wish you well, my lord."
With that, Lady Diamond strolled away to greet her friends. Purity would have to follow soon, but she would first take him to task.
"Have you forgotten all the bread-and-butter fashion for dress and for greeting?"
"Not forgotten, I fear, but never learned." He looked chagrined. "How will I get a wife to carry on the barony and bear me an heir?"
"You see," Purity declared. "That is an unacceptable topic."
"Not between us, surely. I feel as though I can say anything to you, kitten."
"But you may not," she informed him. "Moreover, I am not confident I can help. You appear not to know the basic harmony of fashion, such pleasant agreement being the soul of elegance. A lady of the ton will, at the very least, expect you to cut a bosh figure."
Looking alarmed, Foxford straightened. "I am a quick study. I promise I shall be teachable and malleable and entirely redeemable. Allow me to claim a dance or two. Or three," he added.
"Not three," she snapped. "By the way, can you dance?"
"Yes," he said. "In that, I shall not let you down."
"It won't be me who is disappointed at the end of the Season if you don't smarten up." Glancing at her empty card, she realized she had better make the rounds or she would be the one disappointed by a lack of partners.
"I am putting you down for the third dance as the first looks to be a march leading into a quadrille."
"And the one before dinner?" he prompted.
She paused. He knew that custom well enough, it seemed.
"We have already eaten a long meal together. Tonight, you ought to dine with a potential spouse. It's hard to guess at the outset, but I suggest you find a lady who interests you and secure the eleventh dance."
She wrote in his name with a tiny pencil from her reticule. "I shall, however, be your partner for the first dance after dinner so you can tell me how well you did."
He didn't look pleased. Perhaps Foxford was nervous about minding his manners.
"Remember to ask a lady for ‘the honor of a dance' and don't tell any mother she might be the young lady's sister. That is absurdly fawning."
"Very well." He remained there, staring at her.
"And ask the young lady questions at dinner unless she's the quiet type, in which case amuse her as you did me at the Fenwicks' party. Whatever you do, do not touch her during the meal and guard against using vulgarisms."
"I shall do so and hope not to be a buffoon."
"Good," Purity said. "I must move along, or I shall have you as my only partner tonight."
He bowed. She nodded, and then she headed toward her mother.
"Don't forget the second dance," Foxford called after her, making her cringe although she didn't turn around. A few young ladies nearby giggled.
Sweet Mary! She had her work cut out for her.
Matthew thought things were going well, and he didn't care what a grinagog he appeared to any of the other ladies present. His actions were a mere means to an end, and that end was Purity Diamond.
For the life of him, he couldn't discern why he'd fixed his sights upon her, beyond the fact that she was beautiful. Yet he had. It might be because their kisses were bloody outstanding. He was certain she hadn't let other rogues kiss her, at least not the way he had. Her high morals and adherence to propriety dictated otherwise.
Thus, despite slapping him after she'd melted against him like warm butter, Lady Purity must feel some attraction. He could almost believe their bodies recognized they were meant for one another before their brains and hearts.
Even if he was unable to win over the former until much later, he hoped to win over the latter soon. Once he had her heart, then he could convince her to marry him. Then he would introduce her to Diana.
Not that he was ashamed of the girl. However, her existence in his life and in his home might put off someone with Lady Purity's affinity for correctness. Therefore, better that he completely captivate her before she learned of the child's existence.
To that end, when the time came, he swept her into his arms for their first dance, and it was as memorable as he'd hoped. She was skilled at the waltz, easy to lead, and graceful as a butterfly. He couldn't bring himself to ruin the effortless flow, nor the enjoyment of being close to her, by making a purposeful misstep.
Besides, he'd told her he knew how to dance. This part of the evening he would allow her to think him as capable as he truly was.
After returning her to Lady Diamond, who wore a wary expression, the long evening ahead seemed interminable. He dallied a moment. Perhaps between dances he'd dazzle her with some stories.
Her mother excused herself to the retiring room with a sable feather that would not stay in place in her coppery-red coiffure. Or maybe she wanted to be away from him.
"Do you see someone here tonight with whom you might be interested?" Lady Purity asked him.
"Very much so," he said, giving her his best come-hither expression.
Instantly her cheeks pinkened. He loved doing that to her. The women he spent time with were not those who blushed easily, if at all.
"I meant a lady you might wish to offer a proposal of marriage," she clarified.
"Maybe. It's too early to tell," Matthew stalled. "Certainly not Lady Julia Jameson, a light-heeled wench if ever I saw one, and she was dancing with a man who might've been a decade her junior. I vow she must be nearing thirty. She's not unattractive, but her fortune isn't enough to make gentlemen forget she's known as a fustilugs when the ballgown attire is removed."
Lady Purity's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon."
"It means she's rather a lusty beast between the sheets."
His lovely companion gasped, and her blush deepened.
"A man might want that in a mistress but not in a wife," he explained, in case she wondered why men weren't flocking to marry Lady Julia, who had been dancing all over London since he first moved back after university.
"I also spied Miss Westland, a bonny girl from all accounts at my club, but someone said she had a third ... appendage." He nearly said the word "nipple." Having a polite conversation was harder than he had imagined. On the other hand, he wasn't trying to behave.
Lady Purity was shaking her head, wearing an expression of dismay.
Matthew continued, "How would any man at Boodle's know such an intimate fact unless she was a lewd bobtail, a game pullet, if you will?"
"My lord," she said as soon as he took a breath. "Gossip is a vulgarism I warned you about. Combine it with vicious slander, and you have entered into the lowest form of conversational offensiveness."
"Have I?" Matthew was mystified.
"Indeed, you have," she asserted.
"Then you also don't wish to know the amusing tale of Lord Varley's muck up when he gave a certain lady who was not his betrothed a green gown in a dark garden."
She stared silently. After a long, awkward moment, Lady Purity said, "I do not understand you, my lord."
Matthew cocked his head. She was clever. Most assuredly she did understand.
"This is another lesson, isn't it?" he asked.
Putting a delicate hand to her temple, she nodded.
"When presented with a double entendre, a lady has two choices. She can remain silent because she has not heard you, even if she has, or she may say ‘I do not understand you.'" Her tone rose. "And then she can only pray you shut your vulgar potato trap!"
"Did I hear something about potatoes?" asked Lady Diamond, coming up behind. At the same time, the music for the next dance began, calling everyone to find their partners.
"My regards, Lady Purity, Lady Diamond. I will see you both later."
Matthew hurried off, wishing he could spend the entire evening with Purity. Dinner without her was far less satisfying than dinner with her. However, since it wasn't his companion's fault, he made sure to hold up his end of the conversation.
Yet when it was over, he all but skipped out of the dining room before halting and remembering to escort his partner and her mother, who had sat on either side of him, back to the ballroom. Bidding them good evening, he went in search of Lady Purity for their next dance.
To his astonishment and dismay, neither she nor Lady Diamond were still at the assembly. About to depart, Matthew recalled he'd allowed his name to be marked upon another seven ladies' cards.
Blast it all! He needed Lady Purity to see he was trying, even if he didn't give a fig about any one of his other partners. With her no longer there, Matthew would far rather be at his club drinking brandy with friends.
On the other hand, he was a gentleman. He might not have spent a great deal of time in London's ballrooms or on its dance floors, but he knew leaving a lady without a promised partner was unthinkable. It was practically a sacred duty, not to be shirked unless he dropped dead next to the refreshments.
Accordingly, he stayed, but his mind wandered to Lady Purity. She knew the rule as well as anyone and was more likely than most to follow it. Was she taken ill?
He hoped not, but he would use her sudden disappearance as an excuse to call upon her again.
He waited until three o'clock the following day. The minutes and hours between when he'd discovered her missing from the ball and handing his calling card to the Diamonds' butler seemed an eternity.
At least he was shown into the drawing room again — a good sign. He doubted that would be the case if Lady Purity was in a dire condition. However, the first person who entered was Lady Diamond.
For a moment, Matthew wondered if she would take him to task for his cloddish previous behavior. Right behind her, though, was Lady Purity, looking perfect. His relief must have shown upon his face, for immediately, the countess invited him to take a seat.
"After you," he said.
If it were a test, he had passed. When the two women, who looked as alike as chalk and cheese, were seated, he also sat.
"I admit I worried when you both disappeared last evening," he said after all greetings and pleasantries over the day's weather had been made.
Mother and daughter glanced at one another. He supposed that was another intimate matter he ought not to have mentioned . What if Lady Purity had got her monthly flow unexpectedly? He was a dolt to make reference to their leaving when they both appeared healthy.
Grinding his teeth at his own stupidity, he waited.
"I can tell you're working out how inappropriate was your last remark," Lady Diamond said. "Regardless, I shall answer because I believe you mean well. My daughter had a headache yesterday but elected to go to the ball. When it grew too painful, we came home."
"After apologizing to my upcoming dance partners," Lady Purity said.
"You didn't apologize to me ," Matthew quipped, knowing he sounded childish, but he had been worried for nothing.
"Oh dear." Lady Purity frowned. "We asked the floor manager to contact everyone on the list with whom we didn't speak personally. I do hope there weren't others who were left wondering. If so, I shall be considered very rude."
Matthew reined in his irritation. All that mattered was she felt better.
"Are you fully recovered today?"
"I am. Thank you for coming and for asking."
Her smile seemed genuine, and earning it pleased him immensely.
"I confess I finished out the night having danced with so many ladies, I cannot remember their names. Is it the habit of the men to write down a list of their partners?"
This struck the two Diamond women as funny, for they both smiled, and then, despite their hair color, they looked very similar indeed.
"I believe the gentleman is only supposed to remember one lady in particular who strikes him, or at the most two," Lady Diamond said.
Lady Purity disagreed. "If you had more with whom you wished to visit, or even to whom you asked for a visit — as I instructed you — then when you got home, you ought to have written their names down directly while thinking of their faces."
This was news to Matthew. It seemed to be a novel idea for Lady Diamond, too, for she frowned at her daughter.
"Is that what you do?" her mother asked.
Lady Purity nodded emphatically. "Yes. It helps me recall people's names."
Matthew was charmed by this vignette, a conversation in which all three of them were on an even keel.
"Lady Diamond, may I ask how you kept all the names straight in your mind when you were your daughter's age attending assemblies?"
She considered. "I spent my youth in Bath with a much smaller social circle, so I knew everyone, and then when I came to London, I met Lord Diamond very quickly."
"Hence, you didn't have to be bothered by recalling other gentlemen after you met your intended?"
"Precisely," Lady Diamond said. "But I would heed my daughter's idea. She is far more organized than I ever could hope to be." She looked at Purity with admiration. "I shall try it when I go visiting and meet the Season's new crop of young ladies."
"Does the act of writing the names down secure them in one's memory?" Matthew asked.
"Somewhat," Lady Purity said. "Then in the morning, you must look over the names and think of their faces again. If you do that over a few more evenings and mornings, they should be firmly planted in the fertile soil of your brain."
"I promise to try it," he said, having no intention of keeping a journal of the insipid folks he met.
They fell silent. No tea was called for, and truly, Matthew didn't know what was supposed to occur. If he were courting her, he assumed he would be invited to dinner. As it was, he wondered if he could ensure himself more time with her, perhaps even alone, if he let her mother in on his dreadful failings.
"I confess I hate any whiff of subterfuge," Matthew began. "Thus, I must ask whether Lady Purity has made mention of my need for assistance in finding a wife."
The lady in question appeared surprised at his disclosure, and her mother even more so.
"She did not," the countess said, eyeing her offspring.
Lady Purity made her own defense. "Because I had not decided, my lord, although your initial greeting to us at last night's ball certainly pressed your case."
"I agree," Lady Diamond said. "This young man needs help if he is to succeed in London's society. You are fortunate to have met my daughter at Lord and Lady Fenwick's home."
"Very fortunate," Matthew agreed. They were going to keep their first interaction a secret. And keeping it gave them an intimate connection he hoped to exploit.
"However, I fear by the time I get to a ball or a dinner party, then it is too late. I make the errors beforehand while dressing and as soon as I open my mouth once I get to the assembly. What I need is prior tutoring."
The two ladies exchanged glances again.
"I suppose I can give you a few tips," Lady Purity allowed. "But you ought to take notes and—"
"Read them over in the evening and the morning," Matthew said.
She raised an eyebrow. "Lesson one, my lord. It is considered extremely rude to interrupt. Don't appear eager to hear your own voice or to show off your own knowledge. Listening is a particularly welcome and gracious skill."
Matthew felt duly chastised. He should not have interrupted, particularly a lady. While he'd made the other errors on purpose at the ball, that one was purely due to eagerness.
"And you are correct," Lady Purity concluded. "You ought to write everything down. Mother, shall we call for tea and get his lordship some paper and a pencil?"
"If you two don't mind," Lady Diamond said, "I do not wish nor do I need to take part in etiquette lessons, not from someone I've raised since she was in leading strings."
She rose, and Matthew jumped to his feet.
"The baron has some manners," the countess said, as if he couldn't hear her. "I'll send in tea, and I'm sure you can scrounge up writing implements in the library or perhaps in that chest of drawers."
She gestured to the other end of the room.
For Matthew's part, he was shocked she was going to leave them by themselves. That was not how he understood the quality folk to behave. Apparently, Lady Purity was also concerned.
"Will you send in Alice to sit with us?" she asked.
Her mother stopped by the open door. "What for?"
"Mother!"
Lady Diamond sighed. "I shall ask Lord Foxford what I asked Hollidge." She turned her piercing green eyes upon him. "Are you here to ruin my daughter?"