Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

E ither Mrs Greene, her husband, or Mr Thomand had a loose tongue, it seemed. Within four-and-twenty hours of Adelaide and Oakley's trip into Barford, neighbours began to arrive at Chiltern Court, eager to make the acquaintance of a previously unheard-of Richmond cousin. By the end of the week, two visitors from outside the county had come seeking an introduction, and on the following Tuesday, Oakley received word that one of his old friends from university, a Mr Hanson, was on his way from London—ostensibly to speak to Oakley, though he made no bones in his letter about having heard of his friend's happy discovery.

Lady Tipton insisted all the interest was a consequence of Adelaide's fine looks; Lord Tipton grumbled that it was because she was single—and he was rich; but Oakley maintained that the chief culprit was people's curiosity.

"Unearthing a long-lost relation of high birth is fascinating, no matter how you look at it. "

"We must be diligent in ensuring that fascination does not lead to anyone discovering Adelaide's full history," Lady Tipton warned. "It would not do to mention that she grew up in Banbury, for example, for that might direct someone to the Bookers, and they would almost certainly reveal that Adelaide ran away, which would beg the question of where to."

The matter of what to say about her formative years did not much trouble Adelaide; she had been avoiding those questions all her life. Of far greater concern to her was that one of her unending faux pas would expose her. She had used to think working for a noble family meant adhering to a ridiculous number of exacting practices, but it was nothing to the vast quantity of bizarre and arbitrary customs to which the family subjected itself. Wear this gown for that pastime, those shoes for this activity, and never that hat in these places. Use this fork for that food, but that spoon for this drink; do not talk too much, never ignore your host, always arrive precisely on time, and stay too long at your peril. Adelaide could not even pretend to recall all Lady Tipton's advice on her manner of walking, or how she was supposed to hold a cup, or the angle at which she ought to flap her fan. She had erred in almost every conceivable way thus far—and several she could never have imagined—and she did not believe it would be long until one of their many callers guessed at her chequered past.

"Not too low. You rank higher," Oakley whispered, surreptitiously taking her by the elbow to lift her out of the curtsey she dipped into upon greeting Mr Hanson when he arrived at the end of September .

Adelaide blushed—and blushed again upon realising she had mouthed an oath in frustration at having mis-stepped already. It truly was proving a difficult habit to break, but to her relief, Mr Hanson did not appear to have noticed—or if he had, he was too much the gentleman to remark on it, placing him well in front of Lord Kemerton in Adelaide's estimation.

"It is an absolute delight to meet you, Miss Richmond. I hope you will forgive me for obtruding on your family reunion."

"It is no imposition. It is a pleasure to meet any friend of my cousin's." This was particularly true when they were as charming as this one appeared to be. His countenance was friendly and expressive, with eyes that crinkled when he smiled in a way that showed he did it often. She thought it rather endearing that his hair remained ruffled when he removed his hat; it gave him the appearance of an adventurer, wind-tousled and energetic.

"What did you want to see me about?" Oakley enquired with a cheerful bounce on his heels and a wink in Adelaide's direction. "You were tiresomely vague in your letter."

"I have come to invite you to a ball."

"That is very good of you, though I am baffled by this sudden fashion for driving halfway across the country to ask questions that could be sent by letter for a fraction of the cost."

"Come now, if I had posted the invitation, I should never have been able to discover for myself whether the rumours flying all over London were true."

"What rumours?" Oakley asked warily .

Mr Hanson smiled broadly and answered looking at Adelaide. "That your newly discovered cousin has your legendary fey eyes, but that unlike on your hobgoblin phizog, they render her quite the most bewitching creature anyone ever saw. I shall be happy to report, when I return to town, that it is perfectly true."

Adelaide was not wearing her aunt's periwinkle gown that day and knew full well that her eyes looked their usual, rather ordinary blue. It somehow made the praise prettier, for Mr Hanson had evidently wished to flatter her, and somebody must have thought it, and said it, for him to repeat it; thus it was as though she had received two compliments at once.

She had no notion of how she ought to respond, however, and instead said to Oakley, "Your eyes are legendary? No wonder you were offended that I could not see anything special about them."

"Hardly ‘legendary'. He is exaggerating. You will find he does that a lot."

"I am forewarned," she said, grinning at Mr Hanson.

"And I am bewitched!" cried he, one hand on his chest in affected wonder.

"See?" Oakley said wryly. "Admit it, Hanson, you have come with the sole purpose of flirting with my cousin."

"I came to invite you to my ball, but now that Miss Richmond and I have met, it would be most unkind to make her the only woman of my acquaintance with whom I do not flirt. Speaking of which, where is your mother? I must tell her how sorely I have missed her since my last visit. "

Oakley rolled his eyes and directed his friend to the orangery, whither he went directly. Adelaide's bafflement must have shown on her face, for he chuckled slightly and explained, "It is his way. My mother is used to him. He is an old friend."

"So is Lord Kemerton, but he does not flirt with your mother."

Oakley affected a shiver. "Heaven forfend! Kem is more like a brother to me—it would be grotesque were he to flirt with her. But that is not his style in any case. Hanson is more gregarious— and an incorrigible flirt. He is harmless, but you must tell me if you find him too much. I shall tell him to leave if you do."

Adelaide had no objection to him remaining. Indeed, on reflection, she rather liked the thought of being flirted with, for nobody had ever paid her any such attention before. "I shall be sure to let you know, but I have not tired of his company yet."

She had not tired of it two days later, either. In fact, she was coming to enjoy it a great deal. He was a flirt, it was true, and unashamedly foppish with it, but his liveliness was refreshing, and his looks such that his courtesies could hardly be considered an imposition. He was not as handsome as Lord Kemerton, but Adelaide did not hold that against him, for few men were. Few men were as high in the instep as the Earl of Kemerton either and, unlike him , Mr Hanson had proved himself wonderfully patient with her occasionally feeble attempts at propriety.

"Well then," said he, on his last night at Chiltern Court. "May I tell my sister that she can expect the Richmond cousins at our ball next month? "

Adelaide gasped slightly, inhaled some of the tea she was sipping, coughed into her cup, splashing most of the contents into her lap, and spluttered her way to drawing a rasping breath. "Both of us?"

Lord Tipton pursed his lips and shook his head at her exhibition but said nothing, for his wife had placed a hand on his arm and given him a look that implored him to hold his tongue.

Mr Hanson did not so much as blink an eye, casually passing her his handkerchief as he answered. "Why yes! You did not think I would be so cruel as to steal Oakley away and leave you mouldering here in the country by yourself, did you?"

"But…it is very soon." She looked to her brother for assistance, hoping that, after her disastrous foray into Barford, he would share her misgivings.

He seemed to, for he nodded his understanding and turned to his friend with a conciliatory grimace. "It is quite soon. Adelaide has only recently come to us, and she has not been used to…that is, she has not moved in the same circles as we have."

"Who cares about that?"

"Everybody," Lady Tipton said quietly. She was toying with her jewellery, which Adelaide had begun to suspect meant she was anxious, and her being anxious about a trip to town made Adelaide even more so.

Mr Hanson made a dismissive noise and waved his hand in the air. "'Tis not as though it is the Season. Scarcely anyone will be there."

"I cannot imagine it will be a ball anyone would be sorry to miss, then," Lord Tipton opined .

"It is a kind offer, Mr Hanson," Lady Tipton said. "But I hope you will understand that we find ourselves in uncharted waters. We would not hasten to put Adelaide into any position that might disadvantage her in the months to come."

Mr Hanson inclined his head in surrender. "I understand entirely. I cannot pretend I am not disappointed, though." He looked at Adelaide. " Vous aurais été la belle du bal ."

Adelaide felt a flash of regret for having baulked at his offer. Her apprehension aside, wearing a beautiful gown, being whisked around the room all evening by refined, attentive gentlemen—being ‘the belle of the ball'—that would really be something. She replied in stilted French, and with what she did not doubt was lamentable grammar, that she hoped they would have another opportunity to dance.

"I hope so, too," he replied—just as Lord Tipton said crossly, "You told me you could not speak French!"

"I beg your pardon," she replied stiffly, "but your lordship said that. I did not."

"But you did not correct me."

She had not corrected any of his prepossessions, for at the time, she had not believed she could truly be his relation and therefore had not thought it a battle worth fighting. Now it had been proved that they were related, it was not a battle she needed to fight. " Pardonnez moi, mon seigneur ."

Lord Tipton's eyes widened slightly before he turned to his wife, all indignation. "I see more of Robert in her every day. "

"I rather think," Mr Hanson whispered in Adelaide's ear, "that your new family are underestimating you, Miss Richmond. Are you quite sure you do not want to come to my ball?"

She felt his breath on her neck and grew flushed at the sensation of such intimacy. "You are very kind, sir," she said as collectedly as she was able, "but Oakley was not wrong. I have not been much out in society. And it has been a long time since I danced. I am sure I would make a fool of myself trying to remember the steps."

He startled her by sitting up taller in his chair and addressing the room loudly. "My lord, my lady, Oakley. A travesty has occurred. Miss Richmond has just informed me that she has not had the pleasure of a dance in—how long did you say? Weeks? Months?"

"Years, sir."

He put the back of his hand to his brow and closed his eyes theatrically. "The injustice!"

Oakley rolled his eyes, and Adelaide grinned with him at his friend's silliness, but a short while later, her amusement was replaced with heartfelt gratitude. For, once he was done play-acting, Mr Hanson persuaded Lady Tipton to play the pianoforte for them, while he, with Oakley's help, took Adelaide through the steps of several of the latest à la mode dances. Although she was exceedingly rusty, and Oakley, it transpired, exceedingly heavy-footed, Mr Hanson was steadfast in his patient directions. They employed chairs to represent the lines of dancers, and at one point cajoled her ladyship into abandoning the instrument to dance with them in a four, sans accompaniment. At the end of it, they were all breathless and merry, and even Lord Tipton was stirred to applaud their final turn.

"I remember when I used to dance like that all the time," Lady Tipton said wistfully as she resumed her seat.

Mr Hanson accepted a glass of wine from a footman and leant against the instrument. "If your ladyship accompanied Miss Richmond to town, you would be required to be her chaperon at every ball she attended. Think of all the dancing you would have then."

Oakley tutted. "Not this again. We have made it clear—my cousin is not ready to enter society."

"Pay him no heed, Miss Richmond, I thought you danced very prettily indeed," Mr Hanson replied.

"Pretty I may have been, but proficient, we both know I was not."

"Where better to practise than town? At least there, you will not have to resort to dancing with the furniture."

"That is a fair point," Oakley remarked.

"I suppose we could visit my modiste while we were there," Lady Tipton said, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

"You have provided me with more than enough gowns already," Adelaide said, though in truth, the prospect of visiting one of London's famous modistes filled her with excitement.

"That is not possible, dear," her aunt replied. "And with a countenance like yours, it would be a crime to put you in anything but the very latest fashions."

"Hear, hear!" Mr Hanson agreed.

"I thought you said I was not ready," Adelaide said to her aunt .

"Mr Hanson has put my mind at rest on that score. If he says London is quiet at this time of year, I shall not argue. I am not in town often enough to know better."

She seemed genuinely eager, and it made her appear twenty years younger than she usually looked. Her necklace and all her many bracelets hung freely about her person, untouched by nervous fingers. Adelaide's reservations receded, just a little.

"What say you, then, Miss Richmond?" Mr Hanson asked. "Will you delight my sister and I and come to our ball?"

"'Tis open season in a week. I am not going anywhere near London while there are pheasants to be shot here," Lord Tipton said flatly. "And if you had any sense, Oakley, you would stay as well. Only the dregs are in town at this time of year. No offence, Hanson."

"None taken, my lord," he replied, though Adelaide thought she could perceive a good deal of affront in his fixed expression. It was that which decided her. She knew what it was to be looked down upon—and Mr Hanson was assuredly not so far below Lord Tipton as to deserve his derision. He owned his own house in town and, according to Oakley, had inherited the fortune to purchase one in the country whenever he chose. Moreover, he had not belittled her once.

"I should be delighted to accept your invitation, sir. If my cousin and aunt are in agreement, you may tell your sister she will see us in London in October."