The Marriage Wager. Candace CampЧитать онлайн книгу.
status and on how they might improve their gowns for their next outing. Indeed, she scarcely listened to them all the ride home, for her own thoughts were far away from the carriage and her family. Nor did she think of the mystery of Lady Haughston’s interest in her, or whether she would in fact call on her the next day, though under normal circumstances she would have wondered about these things a great deal.
But tonight, as she left the carriage and climbed the stairs to her small room in their rented house, as she undressed for bed and brushed out her long, thick hair, her mind was on the laughing blue eyes of a certain viscount, and the question that would not let her sleep for a good hour after she had retired was whether she would ever see him again.
CONSTANCE DRESSED WITH some care the following morning. Though she refused to let herself get carried away by the thought that Lady Haughston had said she would call on her, neither was she going to ignore the possibility and therefore possibly wind up riding out with the woman in her second-best day dress. So she put on her best afternoon dress, made of brown jaconet muslin. And though she wore the little spinster’s cap her aunt assured her was suitable for her age and station in life, she pulled a few strands out from it and twisted them into curls to frame her face. Her pride would not allow her to be seen at Lady Haughston’s fashionable side looking like a dowd.
At one o’clock, when Lady Haughston had not arrived, Constance tried not to be too disappointed. After all, she had known that the introduction last night had been a fluke. Perhaps Lady Haughston had assumed she was someone else or had taken pity on a poor wallflower of a girl, but this morning she would have had no interest in actually pursuing the relationship.
Still, it was difficult not to feel somewhat downcast. Constance had liked Lady Haughston and, she was truthful enough to admit, she had felt a degree of pride at being singled out for attention by one of the leaders of the Ton. But most of all, meeting her had enlivened the boredom of life in London.
In truth, Constance was finding that she preferred life in the country to the glittering world of the capital. The parties, it was true, were far grander and more lavish, but she knew scarcely anyone at them, and she spent most of her time simply standing or sitting with her aunt and cousins. As a chaperone, she was paid no more attention than the furniture or the wallpaper. She was not asked to dance, and she was rarely even included in the conversations that her aunt or cousins conducted with others. Had her relatives been attentive to her, then she supposed that others would have talked to her, as well. But what few people the Woodley women knew they guarded jealously, hopeful that these relationships would help them in their quest for husbands.
Constance therefore found little pleasure in the parties except to look at the beautiful rooms and lovely dresses, or to observe the foibles of the various partygoers. It was an amusement that wore thin, and she often grew bored and wished she were at home reading.
During the days, she was equally bored. She had become accustomed from an early age to running her father’s household. When his estate passed to Sir Roger, while Aunt Blanche had been happy to assume the titular reins of the household, she was equally happy to leave most of the actual work of seeing that everything ran smoothly to Constance. But the house and the number of servants here were much smaller, and the housekeeper whom they hired in the city ran the place with such efficiency that Constance had very little to do with its daily operation. Nor did she have any of the social chores to occupy her that had taken up part of her days in the past. She had been wont to pay duty calls to her father’s tenants and various people in the village, such as the vicar and his wife, and the now-retired attorney who had in the past handled her father’s affairs. She was accustomed, as well, to visiting with her friends and neighbors. But here in London she knew no one besides her family, and, to be truthful, she usually found them poor company. Aunt Blanche, Margaret and Georgiana talked of little except husbands, marriage and dresses, and Uncle Roger talked little at all, spending most of his time at his club and, when he was at home, retreating to the study, where, Constance suspected, he passed the hours by napping.
Worst of all for Constance was the fact that in London she was not free to go on long rambles as she had at home. Here, her aunt and uncle ruled, it was far too unseemly, not to mention dangerous, to go walking out without a maid to accompany her, and they could not spare a maid for what her aunt and uncle considered Constance’s foolish and unladylike behavior.
Bored and restricted, Constance had looked forward to the prospect of Lady Haughston’s offer of an afternoon’s expedition with more eagerness than she would have admitted. Her spirits lowered greatly as the afternoon ticked away.
But then, shortly before two o’clock, just as Constance was thinking of going upstairs to escape the argument that Georgiana and Margaret were having over which of them was more favored by a certain baron—who had never shown the slightest interest in either of them that Constance had seen—the parlor maid announced the arrival of Lady Haughston.
“Oh, my!” Aunt Blanche jumped up as though someone had pinched her. “Yes, yes, of course. Show her ladyship in.”
She quickly patted at the cap that covered her hair and smoothed down her skirts, muttering that she wished she had worn a better dress. “Pin up that curl, Margaret. Stand up, girls. Constance, here, take my needlework.”
Constance moved over to pick up the embroidery hoop that had fallen from Aunt Blanche’s hands when she leapt up from her chair, and she neatly tucked it into her sewing basket. Because of that, she was leaning over and slightly turned away when Lady Haughston entered the room. Aunt Blanche hurried forward, reaching out eagerly to take Lady Haughston’s hands in both hers.
“My lady! What an honor. Do sit down. Would you care for some tea?”
“Oh, no.” Lady Haughston, a vision in a pomona green silk walking dress, smiled at the older woman as she pulled her hands back. She nodded vaguely toward Margaret and Georgiana. “I cannot stay. I am here for only a moment to fetch Miss Woodley. Where is she?”
She looked past Lady Woodley. “Ah, there you are. Shall we go? I must not leave the horses waiting long or the coachman scolds me.” She smiled at the absurdity of her statement, her blue eyes twinkling. “I hope you have not forgotten about our shopping expedition?”
“No, of course not. I wasn’t sure…well, that you meant it.”
“Whyever not?” Lady Haughston’s eyebrows lifted in astonishment. “Because I am late, you mean? You mustn’t mind that. Everyone will tell you that I am always shockingly late. I don’t know why that is so.”
She shrugged prettily, and Constance suspected that few people were ever able to sustain any annoyance at Lady Haughston’s tardy arrivals.
“You are going shopping? With Constance?” Aunt Blanche gaped at Lady Haughston.
“I hope you will not mind,” Lady Haughston replied. “Miss Woodley promised she would help me choose a new bonnet today. I am quite torn between a pair of them.”
“Oh.” Aunt Blanche blinked. “Yes, well, of course.”
She turned to Constance, the look on her face a mixture of confusion and annoyance, as she said, “It is very kind of you to invite my niece.”
Constance felt a trifle guilty for not having told her aunt about Lady Haughston’s invitation. However, she could scarcely explain her doubts with Lady Haughston standing right there. She said only, “I am sorry, Aunt Blanche. I quite forgot to tell you. I hope you do not mind.”
Aunt Blanche could do nothing but agree to the expedition if she hoped for Lady Haughston’s favor, and Constance was banking on it that she would realize that fact. Otherwise, her aunt would probably have refused out of irritation.
But Lady Woodley was wise enough to nod and say, “Of course, my dear. You deserve a treat.” She turned to their guest. “I scarcely know what we would do without dear Constance’s help. It is so good of her to come to London to help me chaperone the girls.” Aunt Blanche cast a fond glance at Constance’s cousins. “It is difficult to keep up with two lively girls—and so many parties!”
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