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‘That true enough,’ Lady Vraux acknowledged. ‘Coming at it from that direction, I suppose there is a chance you might persuade him.’ After hesitating a moment, she said, ‘Are you so sure you don’t want to marry? Not to be indelicate, but you’re not getting any younger, darling. When I was your age, Gregory was four, Christopher two, and I was enceinte with you! I know your father and I have hardly offered an encouraging example of the estate, but Christopher and Ellie seem happy enough, so you must see that contentment in marriage is possible. And marriage would offer you children. That is a joy I’d hate to see you deny yourself.’
For a moment, Temper was tempted to blurt out the dreadful truth she’d hidden from everyone for so long. But since revealing it would probably wound her mother more than it would bring Temper comfort, she bit back the words.
‘I’ll have Pru’s brats to love,’ she said instead. ‘You know I’ve read every travel journal I could find since I was a girl! Travelling to exotic places—and finding treasures to bring back for Papa—is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. A dream of which a husband is unlikely to approve. And once he got his greedy hands on my dowry, a dream I would no longer have the funds to pursue.’
‘That is likely true. A lady with funds of her own to do what she wishes? I can’t even imagine it.’
‘Well, I can and I like the image very much. So, yes, I’ll remain in London, debut if I can find a sponsor and brazen it out.’
‘Gregory said that Gifford Newell offered to approach his godmother, Lady Sayleford, on your behalf. A formidable lady!’ Lady Vraux shook her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘The Dowager Countess’s position is so unassailable, she even invites me to her entertainments. Then makes a point of ensuring all the disapproving society matrons see her chatting with me. She just might enjoy sticking her thumb in society’s eye by sponsoring you. And under her care, you would be protected from the...disdain which I fear you might otherwise suffer.’
Temper wasn’t about to increase her mother’s worry by confessing she expected to meet with a lot of disdain, regardless of who sponsored her. She was too angry that, despite six years of impeccable behaviour where gentlemen were concerned, there was neither forgiveness nor tolerance for her mother. Whereas she knew for certain that a number of noble men conducted affairs in full view of their wives and suffered no social consequences whatsoever.
‘If Newell does secure you her sponsorship,’ her mother continued, ‘I shall be very pleased to see you immersed in all the activities of the Season. You needn’t worry that I’ll feel neglected. I have Ellie and my friends. And who knows what might happen? I will pray for your happiness and success.’
‘Then you will be praying for me to journey to exotic places!’
Lady Vraux tapped Temper’s cheek, her smile bittersweet. ‘There is no journey so exotic and unexpected as a journey of the heart.’
If that journey led to marriage, it was one she could never dare take, Temper thought sadly. But before she could become mired in melancholy, her mama said, ‘If you do embark on a Season, let me give you one more piece of advice. Never show fear or weakness, or your enemies will fall on you like rabid dogs. It’s better to be scorned than pitied.’
Rising, Temper leaned down to kiss her mama’s cheek. ‘That’s a piece of advice I can embrace wholeheartedly!’ After crossing the room, she stopped in the doorway to look back at her mother. ‘Whatever society says or thinks, I am proud to be your daughter, Mama.’
Lady Vraux took a shuddering breath, tears glistening at the ends of her improbably long lashes. ‘Your loyalty is precious, if ill advised. I would wish you to end your Season with more success than I did.’
‘If I end it with the prospect of travel to foreign places, I shall be satisfied indeed.’ Blowing her mother a kiss, determined to move towards the future she wanted, Temper walked out.
Chapter Four (#u99a27dcf-481b-5ead-8d49-e037598bf7bf)
Four days later, Lady Sayleford’s butler ushered Gifford Newell and Temperance Lattimar into the Great Parlour of the Dowager Countess’s imposing Grosvenor Square mansion. ‘I’ll tell the Countess you have arrived,’ he intoned before bowing himself out.
‘What a lovely room,’ Temperance said, looking around the chamber, its delicate plaster decoration done up in pastel shades. ‘Pure Robert Adams, isn’t it?’
Was she remarking about decor to conceal her nervousness? Gifford wondered. He’d discovered an intriguing new side to Temperance Lattimar during their drive here this afternoon—that instead of behaving with her usual blunt exuberance, when she wished to, she could conceal her thoughts and feelings behind an impenetrable façade. Ever since he’d arrived at Vraux House to escort her to this interview, she’d been calm, composed—and for the first time since he’d known her, utterly unreadable.
‘It is Adams,’ he confirmed. ‘Lady Sayleford was one of his first sponsors, engaging him to redecorate the public rooms of Sayleford House when she was just a young bride.’
‘The symmetry, balance and delicacy of the mouldings are beautiful,’ Temperance said. ‘I’m so glad she didn’t decide to change it out for the new Egyptian style.’
‘Not a fan of crocodile legs and zebrawood carving?’
‘Not unless I’m encountering them on the Nile!’
‘Are you truly interested in furnishings and such?’ he asked curiously. ‘I never knew.’
‘Of course I’m interested in furnishings—and architecture and sculpture and painting!’ she retorted, giving him a look that questioned his intelligence. ‘Why else would I be so interested in travelling to foreign places—or knowledgeable enough to promise Papa I could search out the treasures he seeks? It’s not just the changing landscape abroad that fascinates. Just as interesting are the arts and artefacts that reveal so much about culture and character.’
‘Little Temper—the scholar?’ he teased.
‘She certainly will be—once she has the chance,’ she shot back. ‘Since employment in the Foreign Office or in Parliament is currently denied her.’
Gifford was chuckling at that as she continued, ‘Before the Countess arrives, let me thank you once again for arranging the interview. And let me apologise in advance, if my behaviour embarrasses you.’
Puzzled, he tilted his head at her. ‘Why would it embarrass me?’
‘Because, if I do have a Season, I must warn her I have no intention of behaving like a modest, accommodating young miss eager to attract a husband. I’m more interested in discouraging suitors, so I may get through the Season and go my own way.’
Before he could respond to that, Harris returned to announce the Dowager Countess. Gifford and Temperance rose, the ladies exchanging curtsies while he bowed.
‘Gifford, you rascal,’ Lady Sayleford said as he came over to kiss her cheek. ‘It’s a sad thing when it takes an errand on behalf of a chit of a girl to get you to visit your poor godmother.’
‘I admit it, I have been remiss,’ he said. ‘Parliament is busy.’
‘I’m sure,’ she murmured. ‘Leaves only enough time to visit the doxies you favour—in company with this young lady’s brother, I understand.’
To his chagrin, Temperance choked back a giggle. ‘You are just as well informed as Gifford promised, Countess.’
‘So what is it you wish me to do for you, young lady?’
‘It’s rather what, if anything, you wish to do, Lady Sayleford. To be honest, I wouldn’t have approached you at all, had Gifford not insisted. Being well informed, I’m sure you know about the latest scandal involving my mother.’
‘Farnham and Hallsworthy,’ the Countess said. ‘Idiots.’
‘Exactly,’ Temperance agreed, her glorious smile breaking out. ‘As you probably also know, my aunt, Lady Stoneway, has chosen not to present my sister and me in London this Season as planned and has taken Prudence to Bath instead.’
‘And why you did not wish to accompany them?’
Gifford winced. Trust his godmother to dispense with the standard politenesses and probe directly to the point.
‘Unlike my sister, I don’t wish to marry, so there was no reason to accompany them to a place which would improve my chances of contracting a match. However, since Lord Vraux insists I must have a presentation, I’d rather follow our original plan and debut here, this Season. Once that’s over, I hope to persuade him to release some funds so that I may do what I truly want to do.’
‘Go exploring foreign places, like Lady Hester Stanhope? You really think you could persuade Vraux to fund that, simply because you fail to marry after your first Season?’
‘It will be difficult, I grant. But if I can show him that no respectable gentleman will offer for me and vow to dedicate my explorations to tracking down whatever he’s currently seeking, I might succeed. He’s only ever been interested in things, after all.’
‘Too sadly true. So, with Lady Stoneway off to Bath, you need a sponsor. Someone whose standing in society will make up for your mother’s lack of it?’
Wincing at the remark, Giff braced himself for the furious defence of Lady Vraux that would likely spell an abrupt end to this interview. Instead, to his surprise, Temperance...smiled.
Granted, the smile was thin and he could almost see her head steaming from the fury she was holding in, but—hold it in she did.
Another revelation! Apparently, Temperance Lattimar could not only mask her feelings, she could withstand being goaded—which he was sure his godmother was doing deliberately, to see what sort of response Miss Lattimar could be prodded into producing.
She was certainly angry, for though her tone remained pleasant, the gaze she fixed on Lady Sayleford was frigid. ‘I’m sure I could turn up among my relations a matron more respectable than Mama to sponsor me. However, since only a woman of unbounded influence could force enough of society to receive a daughter of the infamous Lady Vraux that my father would consider my presentation adequate, I agreed to let Mr Newell approach you. Since sponsoring a daughter of the infamous Lady Vraux is likely to be thought poor judgement on the part of anyone foolish enough to attempt the task, it would be wise of you to steer clear of me. And now, I expect we have taken up enough of your valuable time.’
As Giff drew in a sharp breath, she started to rise—only to check as the Dowager Countess held out a hand. ‘Please, sit, my dear,’ she said in pleasant tones, as if Temperance’s reply hadn’t been a defiant rebuttal, however obliquely delivered. ‘We haven’t yet had our tea.’
As she spoke, the butler walked in with the tray, placing it on the table and pouring for them. Temperance sat in such absolute stillness, then took her cup with such measured precision, Giff had the vision of some wild beast from the Royal Menagerie immobilised by chains. How long could she restrain that anger? And would he be the unlucky victim of that storm when it did break?
After setting down her own cup, Lady Sayleford said, ‘So, you think I should “steer clear of you”, Miss Lattimar? Do you truly think I am in the habit of being guided by chits of two-and-twenty with no experience of the world and nothing but an outrageous reputation to boast of?’
Temperance’s face paled and Giff felt his own anger rise. He’d brought Temper here to ask for help—not to have his imperious godmother subject her to the sort of set-down that had reduced matrons twice her age to tears.
Before Giff could intervene, Temperance set down her cup—and burst out laughing. ‘Goodness, no, Countess!’ she said when she’d controlled her mirth. ‘I sincerely doubt you’ve ever been guided by anyone.’
Lady Sayleford smiled, as if Temper had passed some sort of test. Which, Giff supposed she just had—neither wilting under the Countess’s pointed questioning, nor flying into a tantrum.
‘You don’t seem inclined to be guided, either,’ the Countess observed. ‘Certainly not by Lady Stoneway, who you must admit has only your best interests at heart.’
Temperance’s amusement vanished as quickly as it had arisen. ‘I do know that. But Mama has been treated outrageously for years. By Papa. By society. Lately, for things that are not at all her fault. I don’t intend to hide away and act as if I believe they were.’
Lady Sayleford nodded. ‘Your loyalty to your mother is admirable and, as you may know, I value family loyalty highly. But you must admit that your mother was very foolish when she was younger and society is not forgiving.’
‘Not of a woman,’ Temperance said acerbically. ‘Especially not one who is beautiful, charming and a magnet for the attention of every gentleman in the room.’
‘They are much quicker to exile a Beauty than a wallflower, aren’t they?’ the Countess replied drily. ‘I believe you do have enough backbone to last a Season. So, let me see... Vraux has pots of money. Angela, a niece of my late husband’s, is a widow living in straitened circumstances, her son in the Royal Navy, her daughter married to some country nobody. To enjoy a Season in London, she would probably agree to serve as your chaperon. If your father will see her properly clothed and pay her expenses, I shall send for her.’
‘Before you offer to help me, I must warn you that, even backed by your approval, I expect to meet with a considerable amount of disapproval. If goaded, I might be...irresistibly tempted to do something outrageous, just to live down to society’s expectations. Which, of course, would further my goal of discouraging suitors.’
‘It might encourage the unscrupulous, though. You’re too intelligent to do anything stupid, I hope—something that might place you in actual danger. Men can be dangerous, especially to women they think invite their attentions. Sadly, my dear, with your looks and reputation, it wouldn’t take much for them to make that assumption.’
Was it only his imagination, Giff wondered, or did Temperance once again turn pale? But then she shook her head, colour returning to her cheeks.
‘I don’t intend to encourage any man and I certainly wouldn’t agree to meet one alone, if that’s what you are warning against. If provoked, I might feel compelled to best some smirking gentleman in a race through Hyde Park—in front of a full complement of witnesses. Or I might accept a dare to drive a curricle down St James’s Street past the gentlemen’s clubs,’ she added, chuckling when Giff groaned.
‘You are indeed your mama,’ Lady Sayleford said, her eyes lighting with amusement. ‘But wiser and forewarned. I do hope, though,’ she added, sobering, ‘that you end up happier than she did.’
After a moment of silence, as if she were weighing whether or not to speak, Temperance said, ‘She...she loved Christopher’s father, didn’t she? Sir Julian Cantrell? I’ve never asked her, not wanting to dredge up sad memories, and everyone else puts me off. I overheard Aunt Gussie telling Gregory that Sir Julian was the love of her life. That he loved her, too, enough that he was prepared to be shunned by society for marrying a divorced woman, only Papa refused to divorce her. I’m sure you know the truth. Won’t you tell me?’
Lady Sayleford remained silent as well, so long that Giff thought she would refuse to answer. Finally, she said, ‘I don’t agree that it does a girl any good to have the truth withheld from her. It’s not as if, growing up a member of the Vraux Miscellany, you have any maidenly innocence to protect!’
‘That’s true,’ Temperance agreed with a wry grimace. ‘So—you will tell me?’
Lady Sayleford sighed. ‘After Vraux refused Felicia the divorce she pleaded for, I half-expected she and Cantrell would run away to America. But she loved Gregory and knew, if she fled, she would never see her firstborn again. She gave up Sir Julian instead. It nearly broke him, especially after he discovered she was carrying his child. By the way, I’m glad he was later able to reconcile with Christopher; a man should have a relationship with his own son, even if he can’t claim the boy outright. It was only after Felicia lost Sir Julian that, once very circumspect, she became...careless of her reputation. She must have been devastated, else she would never have been taken in by your father.’
‘Marsden Hightower?’
‘Marsden Hightower,’ Lady Sayleford confirmed with a curl of her lip. ‘Rich, handsome, charming—and a cad of the highest order. He boasted of his conquest all over town, let slip lurid details of the rendezvous he persuaded her into—meeting him in some hostess’s boudoir in the midst of ball, or in the shrubbery at some garden party! Details too deliciously scandalous not to become the talk of society—or to thoroughly offend the hostesses at whose events the purported dalliances had taken place. She was never forgiven—not that, being Felicia, she ever expressed remorse.’
‘She would have confronted the rumours with her lips sealed and her head held high.’
Lady Sayleford nodded. ‘And so she did. Despite the reputation she acquired, she never took a married man for a lover and she had countless opportunities to do so. A distinction I recognise and appreciate, even if many of society’s harpies do not.’
‘Is that why you still receive her, when most of the high sticklers will not?’
‘I admire honour, as I admire courage. Especially honour and courage maintained when one is given no credit for possessing them.’
‘Thank you for telling me the whole truth.’
Giff sat in shocked silence. He’d always accepted what rumour said about Lady Vraux, disdaining her as a selfish Beauty who took lovers to gratify her vanity with no thought to the harm her conduct would do her family. When Temperance told him his godmother invited the scandalous Lady Vraux to her home, he’d assumed the Countess did so on a whim, to demonstrate her mastery over society.
After hearing the truth, he realised with some chagrin that he, who prided himself on treating people as he found them rather than believing what rumour whispered, had done exactly that with Lady Vraux. He had to admit a grudging admiration for her courage—and for the courage of the daughter who had always believed in and passionately defended her.
Lady Sayleford gave Temperance a regretful look. ‘Unfortunately, knowing the true origin of your mother’s reputation doesn’t change your present circumstances, my child.’
‘No. But it does confirm what I’ve always known—that Mama is not the amoral, self-indulgent voluptuary society accuses her of being. But then, of what value to society is truth? It will believe what it wants, regardless.’
Lady Sayleford nodded. ‘If you know that, you are well armed to begin a Season. I shall enjoy hearing about your escapades.’
Giff was smiling—until the meaning of that sentence penetrated. ‘Hearing about them?’ he repeated. ‘Won’t you be accompanying her to social events?’
‘To every frippery Marriage Mart entertainment that attracts silly young girls and nodcock young gents on the lookout for rich brides? Certainly not! I shall accept only those invitations that interest me, just as I do now. But I will introduce Miss Lattimar before I turn her over to Angela and make sure it’s known that I will be watching to see how each member of society receives her.’
‘Very well, I’m reassured,’ Giff said, relaxing a bit.
‘Besides, it’s not me she needs to watch over her. In order to be truly protected, she’ll need a gentleman standing guard. You, Gifford.’
Looking as alarmed as he felt, Temperance said, ‘Lady Sayleford, is that truly necessary? Surely having a chaperon by my side every minute will afford sufficient protection! I never meant to embroil Giff in a social round he surely doesn’t want—’
‘Don’t be argumentative, child,’ Lady Sayleford said, cutting her off. ‘It won’t hurt Gifford to attend a few society functions. How else is he to find the rich bride a rising politician needs? Cyprians are well and good for pleasuring-seeking, but a career in government requires adequate funds and a suitable hostess.’
Her remarks were, of course, spot on, but that didn’t mean Giff appreciated them—especially not in front of Temperance, who had recently preached from the same sermon. Feeling colour warming his face, he said, ‘Thank you for the advice. But I’m not prepared to act upon it just yet, so don’t be getting any ideas.’
Lady Sayleford smiled. ‘What else has an old woman to do, but get ideas? My dear,’ she continued, turning back to Temperance, ‘do you think your father will agree to have Angela chaperon you?’
‘If you approve of her, I don’t see why he would object.’
‘Just to make sure, I’ll pen him a note. Tell him I’m grateful he’s sparing my old bones as your sponsor by allowing my great-niece to act in my place. Vraux does like to keep things safe, even if he can’t...care for them like normal folk. In any event, I’ll sweeten the agreement by sending him a medieval mantelpiece Sayleford once outbid him for.’
‘Oh, no, ma’am!’ Temperance protested. ‘I wouldn’t want you to part with one of your husband’s treasures!’
‘Nonsense! I’ve been trying to dispose of the hideous thing for years. What better use to make of it than to dispatch it to someone who might actually appreciate it?’
Temperance laughed. ‘My mother’s reputation might be based on falsehoods, but yours is not. You are wise, as well as all-knowing!’
‘There must be some benefit to growing old, other than the ability to interfere in other people’s lives with impunity. But since I’m so wise, let me offer you one more bit of advice. Don’t be blind, fixing yourself so narrowly on a single goal that you fail to see the alternatives that present themselves. As they always will. Now, I shall consult my calendar, but I think next week will do for an introductory tea. That will give me enough time to summon Angela. So drink up, Gifford. You’ve accomplished your purpose and it is time for me to rest.’
With that, they finished their tea, then stood as his godmother made her majestic departure.
Standing in the hall while the butler summoned their carriage, Temperance said, ‘Lady Sayleford is amazing! I’d like to be her one day.’ Then she shook her head, her expression rueful. ‘But then, I’d have to be respectable to begin with.’
‘You are less of a hoyden than you used to be,’ Giff observed. ‘I thought you displayed remarkable restraint today. I was initially afraid you might attack with nails and fists when she insulted your mother.’
‘She was taking my measure, I think. And I’m not as thoughtless and impulsive as you seem to believe. At least, not all the time. For instance, I intend to keep my chaperon close by whenever there are gentlemen about, so I really don’t think you need to attend social events to watch out for me. You’d probably be bored to flinders and hate every minute of it.’
‘I hope to sidestep that fate—not because it would bore me, but I would rather avoid eligible young ladies for a while longer, despite my godmother’s forceful advice.’
Conversation halted as, his tiger having brought his curricle to the entrance, they exited the house and mounted the carriage.
