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Authors: The Desperate Viscount

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BOOK: Gayle Buck
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The new viscountess’s position in society was a little more difficult to establish, though it did not prove to be the insurmountable task that Mary herself had assumed it would be.

Contrary to popular expectation, Lord St. John did not merely ensconce his lady at the town house and leave her to her own devices while he plunged back into his old pursuits. His pride was too strong to let him do the easy thing. Instead, with a challenge in his cold eyes, Lord St. John escorted his lady to various functions until she was reluctantly acknowledged by society at large.

To the surprise of many, Lady Heatherton took the new Lady St. John under her wing. Her ladyship was known to be a high stickler of the first order. It was something of an established joke that she had barred most of Lord Heatherton’s closest cronies from her doors because she considered them to fall too short of her standards.

However, from their first meeting, Lady Heatherton and Lady St. John seemed to establish a rapport, one that bore swift and unanticipated fruit.

Lord St. John escorted his wife to an evening squeeze guaranteed to expose her to as many eyes as possible. When Mr. Underwood had volunteered to accompany them and lend his support, Lord St. John had shrugged carelessly. “My wife needs nothing but the support of my name.”

“I like that, Sinjin! You were nearly an outcast scarcely three months ago,” Mr. Underwood reminded him.

The viscount’s smile was at once grim and amused. “Yes, it left a certain piquant taste, I admit. But I am not now, and neither is my wife, as I shall shortly prove this very evening. All of polite society will take notice of us tonight.”

His purpose was attended by such success that a dame of frosty mien, after one glance, proceeded to sail up to the newlywed couple. The gentleman who trailed the lady did so with such an alarmed expression that several personages turned and were witness to the encounter.

Lady Heatherton greeted Lord St. John with a regal nod. “Lord St. John. I had heard that you were returned to London. The notice of your nuptials came as a great surprise. And this must be your recent bride, formerly Miss Mary Pepperidge, I believe?”

Lord St. John acknowledged warily that it was so.

Lady Heatherton looked consideringly at Lady St. John. Without turning her head, she addressed her son. “You have made a humbug of me, Edward.”

Lord Heatherton’s brown eyes bulged. “Nothing of the sort, ma’am. I assure you, furthest thing from my mind!”

Lady Heatherton pinned him with a steely glance. “Do not lie to me, Edward. You know that you cannot do it in the least credibly.”

Having withered Lord Heatherton, she swung her austere eyes to Lord St. John. “This young woman will undoubtedly be the making of you, my lord. I had not credited you with such good sense. See to it that she is happy.”

Lord St. John bowed, an ironic twist to his lips. “I shall endeavor to do my best.”

Lady Heatherton’s smile was glacial. “I doubt it. I shall have cause to speak to you again, I am certain.” She turned her attention to Lady St. John, who had for several minutes been regarding her with some inner trepidation. Her ladyship’s expression unbent. “I know your father, Mr. Pepperidge, by reputation.
It is my understanding that he is a most worthy gentlemen.”

‘Thank you, my lady,” said Lady St. John, somewhat dazed.

“You must come to dinner Friday next. I suppose Lord St. John will wish to bring that scapegrace, Underwood, with him. I trust the gentleman will be on his best behavior whilst under my roof. I will not have the undermaids squealing.”

Mr. Underwood had unsuccessfully pretended that he was invisible. At Lady Heatherton’s slur on his character, however, he flushed. “My word on it, my lady. I would not dream of causing the least disturbance.”

“Of course you will not, Mr. Underwood,” said Lady Heatherton with a tight smile. With that, she sailed away.

Mary laughed at the expressions of the three gentlemen about her. “So that is your esteemed mama, Lord Heatherton. She is a most formidable lady, to be sure.”

“Aye,” sighed Lord Heatherton. He brightened suddenly. “We scraped through that fairly well, I think.”

“Nothing else could be half so difficult,” agreed Mr. Underwood. He clapped his hand onto Lord Heatherton’s shoulder. “Come Nana. We have survived the worst; let us celebrate! Lady St. John, do you wish any refreshment? An ice, perhaps?”

Mary was on the point of accepting Mr. Underwood’s offer when Lord St. John forestalled her.

“You may act the gallant later, Carey. I intend to dance this set with my wife.” Lord St. John bent a faint grin on her startled face. “You do dance, do you not, my lady?”

“Of course I do, my lord,” said Mary, swiftly regaining her composure. When he led her out onto the floor, she forgot about the curious stares directed their way and gave herself up to the exquisite pleasure of being squired by her husband, Lord St. John.

The small dinner party at Lady Heatherton’s proved to be an affair of upwards of fifty people. The appearance of not only Lord and Lady St. John, but also Mr. Underwood, was met with absolute amazement. It was quite clearly seen that Lady Heatherton was on the best of terms with Lady St. John, since that redoubtable lady introduced her guest round with assiduous attention and was overheard to remark besides that she was happy that Lord St. John and Mr. Underwood had been free to grace her little dinner party. The news spread like wildfire that the breach between Lady Heatherton and her son’s boon companions had been healed, and it was all due to the new viscountess.

Under Lady Heatherton’s unimpeachable aegis, Lady St. John’s acceptance, though grudging in certain quarters, was relatively painless. Soon invitations were received at the elegant town house and the curious began to make morning calls on the viscountess. The reports brought back by those visitors were nearly all favorable. Lady St. John’s dress and manners were unexceptional. She carried herself with a self-possession that was at once ladylike and without false condescension. One wondered whether the new viscountess did not possess blueblood in her family background after all. The general consensus was that Lady St. John could be safely recognized by polite society.

Still, there were those who remained too top-lofty to acknowledge a merchant’s daughter, however high she had been elevated or how personable she was. Most prominent among those sticklers were the Earl of Cowltern, his wife, and their daughter, the beauteous Lady Althea. However, the Cowltern attitude proved in the end to be not so much justified as amusing to the
ton.

Society was always ripe for the unkindest of gossip and the Earl of Cowltern and his ladies were not particularly well-liked. Their air of self-importance had often produced ill-feeling, though few would openly express such outright censure that it would cost them a cut direct from the powerful family.

Lord St. John had been brutally used by the Cowltern faction and yet he had survived. Not only that, but he had come back with a wealthy bride on his arm. It was all thought a very good joke, and went a long way toward easing Lady St. John’s path.

 

Chapter 18

 

A dusty traveling carriage drew up to the curb in front of an elegant town house. The door opened and a gentleman, stooping so that his impossibly tall beaver cleared the edge of the door, descended the iron step to the walkway. He turned to extend his gloved hand to the lady who appeared behind him.

Accepting the gentleman’s support, the lady stepped down to the pavement in her turn. Her eyes never left the imposing residence that stood before them.

“Well, my love, here it is,” said the gentleman, turning his own gaze on the town house.

“It is a frightfully fashionable address, isn’t it?” asked the lady, still eyeing the town house with a somewhat avid expression in her bright blue eyes.

“Indeed it is,” assured the gentleman, his tone one of immense satisfaction.

The lady turned a dazzling smile on her escort. Arm in arm, they ascended the steps to the front door, where the gentlemen set up a rattling summons on the brass knocker.

Mary sat in the drawing room quietly sorting through her embroidery silks. When the butler entered, she looked up with a smile. She was mildly surprised by the faint hint of disapproval in his wooden expression. “What is it, Craighton?”

“A Mr. and Mrs. Applegate, my lady,” he said stiffly. A diminutive lady brushed past the rigid butler, all fluttering ribbons and exclamations. “Mary! La, but it has been an age!”

“Tabitha!” Mary rose to her feet. In her sister’s impetuous embrace, the basket of silks fell abandoned to the settee.

With a trilling laugh, Mrs. Applegate drew back. Her lovely blue eyes took sharp note of Mary’s pale yellow morning dress trimmed with georgette ribbons. “Don’t you look fine as sixpence, Mary! Doesn’t she, Mr. Applegate?”

Thus applied to, the gentleman who had entered on Mrs. Applegate’s heels now came forward. He wore a large grin on his florid face. “Indeed she does, my love. But then, our dear sister has always had an air about her.” He caught his sister-in-law’s unresisting hand and made a flourishing bow over it.

The butler interposed a question to the mistress of the house, who appeared utterly taken aback by the invasion. As well she might, he thought. “Shall I send in refreshment, my lady?”

Mary shook herself free of her stupefaction. Her hand was still imprisoned by Mr. Applegate. She firmly withdrew it from his grasp. “Yes, of course, Craighton. Tabitha, won’t you sit down? Mr. Applegate, pray make yourself comfortable.”

Mrs. Applegate instantly availed herself of the invitation to settle onto the settee. She tossed aside the basket of silks, saying, “Oh, was there anything more wonderful? My lady! I can scarcely credit it still. You could have knocked me over with a feather after I deciphered your letter, Mary.”

“The news was astonishing. My poor love could not be brought to believe it at first,” said Mr. Applegate, with a broad wink.

“Yes, I can imagine,” said Mary dryly, easily discerning that there had been quite a scene enacted. As she seated herself beside her sister, she once more invited Mr. Apple-gate to avail himself of a chair.

He declined with a widened smile. “I shall be glad to stretch my legs a bit and look about while you ladies enjoy a comfortable cose.”

“Oh, it is so prodigiously exciting to be here with you, Mary! I saw instantly that it is a very fashionable address, which was so very encouraging,” said Mrs. Applegate.

Mary threw a glance at her brother-in-law as he wandered about the drawing room. He was openly eyeing its contents with a shrewd look on his face. It was easy to see that he was calculating the worth of all he saw. Mary decided to ignore him and she deliberately focused her attention on her sister. “But how did you know where to find me, Tabitha? I quite thought you had no wish to communicate with me when I did not hear from you regarding the wedding.”

If Mrs. Applegate was aware of the rebuke implied in her sister’s mild tone, she did not exhibit it. She was engaged in pulling off her bright vermillion kid gloves. “Why, I called first on Papa, of course. He very obligingly gave me your direction once he understood that I was determined to visit you, no matter what he urged to the contrary. Such stuff! As though you would be grown too high to receive
me,
your only sister! It made me stare to hear it, I can tell you.”

Mary was dismayed. She knew all too well both her sister’s willful manner and her father’s stubborn determination. There must have been a glaring falling out between these two members of her family. She had always disliked such unpleasantness and she had often played the peacemaker in the past. “How was Papa when you left him, Tabitha? I hope you did not cut up at him, for you know how he—”

“La, Mary! You must think I haven’t the sense of a goose,” said Mrs. Applegate scornfully. “Papa was in fine trim, as always. Not but what he did offer me a few harsh words, but I paid not the least heed to it. Mr. Applegate warned me in advance how it would be and so I was on my very best behavior. Though Papa was reluctant to give me your direction, we parted on very pretty terms.”

Mary looked over at her brother-in-law, who had left off perusing the drawing room appointments and had at last taken possession of a wingback chair opposite. She smiled her gratitude at him. “Then I must thank you, sir, for I am certain that it was all your doing that my father and Tabitha did not come to cuffs.”

Mr. Applegate bowed from the confines of the chair. “Nothing to it, dear sister, once I reminded Tabby of a few pertinents.”

Mary felt her smile become fixed at hearing the pet name that had been bestowed upon her sister. She reminded herself that it was not at all her business. It was her sister’s place to object to being likened to a skinny, homeless cat. Surprisingly, Tabitha, who had always been very aware of her own beauty and worth, said nothing. Mary had no alternative but to ignore the despicable nickname. “Nonetheless, it was well done of you, sir.”

Mr. Applegate bestowed upon his hostess his widest smile and winked.

As little as Mary cared for Mr. Applegate’s christening of her sister, she disliked even more her brother-in-law’s familiar manners toward herself. She had never quite liked him and the more that she saw of him the truer that became.

With determination she turned her attention to her sister’s spate of inconsequential chatter, forcing herself to play the interested hostess.

The arrival of tea was a welcome diversion. Mrs. Applegate gave a little squeak of pleasure at sight of the large selection of biscuits, creams, cakes, and fruits. “Only look, Mr. Applegate! There is enough to fill one up twice over.”

Mr. Applegate sat forward, rubbing together his heavy hands. “Truly a feast fit for a king, or should I say a viscount!” He laughed heartily at his own sally, his enjoyment apparently unaffected by his sister-in-law’s tepid smile.

As the tea was set out on the occasional table by the butler, it crossed Mary’s mind to wonder why Craighton had taken on a task that could have been designated to an underling. The butler met her glance and apparently understood the question in her eyes.

BOOK: Gayle Buck
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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