The Affairs of Harriet Walters, Spinster Page 14

  The gentlemen joined the ladies half an hour later, and the guests split into groups to make up card tables. Harriet did not care to play cards, however, and sat on one of the couches. The young dandy from dinner, Mr. Bell, suddenly sat down beside her.

  “How do you do again, Miss Walters? I was berating the colonel over brandy and cigars for monopolizing you throughout dinner. Whatever were you two discussing all that time?” Harriet coloured and looked down at her lap; she was not accustomed to such forward conversation from a gentleman. When he commented no further, Harriet looked up again, and Bell smiled.

  “That’s better. I don’t like it when ladies pretend to be timid – it’s too hard to make conversation. But excuse me,” he said, noting the blush in Harriet’s cheeks, “bless my soul, you really are shy, aren’t you?” When Harriet still did not answer, he said, “You will have to forgive my impudence, Miss Walters. I do not mean to make you uneasy. Let’s see. I guess that I should own up to listening to your dinner conversation. You were talking about opera and theatre with Colonel York, weren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Harriet answered, thinking that the young man was very insolent to speak to her so familiarly and confess to eavesdropping, too. The young dandy laughed, displaying two perfect dimples.

  “That was a decidedly unfriendly look you just gave me, my dear. You must guard against showing your emotions so openly. Please allow me to begin again. Miss Walters, I understand from our hosts that this is your first trip to London. How do you like the city so far?”

  “I have not seen very much beyond St. Paul’s Cathedral and a few of the shops on Bond Street, Mr. Bell. I look forward to seeing Westminster Abbey and St. Margaret’s Church tomorrow.”

  The gentleman held up his hands in mock horror. “Two churches in one day, and the only other sight you’ve seen the Cathedral! Really, Diane, are you trying to turn Miss Walters into a nun?” he called to his hostess across the room.

  Harriet shrank into her seat, embarrassed to be teased before the entire company. “Hush, please,” she whispered. Bell grinned at her.

  “What’s that, Augustus?” Diane asked, gazing at him over her shoulder from the card table.

  “I was just wondering why Miss Walters is only seeing churches on her visit? How dreary that must be.”

  Diane turned to drape an arm over the back of her chair. “Miss Walters’ tastes are loftier than yours, Augustus. She appreciates architecture and history. Besides, I am newly in mourning. I cannot take her dancing.”

  “No, but I can. What a capital idea! If Colonel York can take Miss Walters to the theatre, I shall take her to a ball at Almack’s. What do you say to that, Miss Walters? Would you care to waltz with me?”

  The gentleman held out his arms as if to dance with her that very minute, and Harriet shrank away from him in alarm.

  “Leave Miss Walters alone, you fool. Harriet, come sit beside me,” Diane ordered.

  “Now Diane, don’t scold,” Bell said in a petulant voice while several of the ladies tittered. Harriet fled to Diane’s table, where Colonel York stood.

  “Please, Miss Walters, take my place,” he said as there were no other available chairs.

  Harriet sank into his chair with relief and smiled up at the gentleman. “Thank you, Colonel. You are very kind,” she said.

  “Not at all. May I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you.” The colonel left on his errand while Harriet was dealt into the game.

  Later that evening when the others had gone home, Harriet, Edward and Diane climbed the stairs to bed. Harriet had a dull headache and was weary from the effort of smiling and trying to make polite conversation. The Fitzwilliams’ guests were acquainted with Harriet’s situation, and had been curious to know what Mrs. Evans’ little heiress was like, so Harriet had been the centre of attention all evening. Edward wandered off down the hallway to his dressing room while Diane escorted Harriet to her door.

  “I think that went well, Harriet. Did you have a pleasant evening?”

  “Yes, thank you. Everyone was very kind, especially Colonel York.”

  “I’m so glad. I think you’ve made a friend there, my dear. The colonel is not generally so gregarious in company, but he certainly leapt to offer you his place at the whist table when Augustus was teasing you.”

  Harriet frowned at the memory. “Yes, Colonel York was very gracious, but I did not care very much for Mr. Bell’s manners,” she said.

  “Augustus often plays the clown in company, and it can be rather trying to those who do not share his sense of humour. The trick is to tease him right back.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very good at teasing, Diane.”

  Diane laid her hand upon Harriet’s shoulder. “You are unused to society and to what is considered ‘witty repartee,’ Harriet. You are out of your element here, but all you want is practice. I know that it was difficult for you to make so many new acquaintances this evening, but you will become more comfortable with society in time.”

  Harriet nodded. “You’re probably right, Diane. I shall do better with practice, as long as I do not have to face Mr. Bell again anytime soon. Good night.”

  “Sleep well, Harriet.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Harriet was not to have her wish, however. The very next day, after having admired Westminster Abbey and St. Margaret’s Church, she and Diane discovered the gentleman on a bench outside St. Margaret’s, two bunches of spring daisies lying on the seat beside him. When he spotted the ladies, Bell sprang to his feet and bowed.

  “Ah, I thought that I would see you today if I waited long enough,” he said, presenting his flowers to the ladies. Diane smiled and accepted hers with a mock curtsy while Harriet only nodded.

  “How clever of you to find us, Augustus. What brings you here?” Diane asked.

  “Just the desire for your company, Diane. How were today’s churches, Miss Walters? Did they live up to your expectations?”

  “Westminster is very impressive, and I thought St. Margaret’s charming.”

  “I’m so glad we did not disappoint,” he replied, offering each lady an arm. Harriet hesitated before laying her hand in the crook of his elbow. Bell smiled down at her and gave her hand a pat before leading both ladies to their carriage.

  “Now, you’ve been cooped up inside stone walls long enough. It’s a beautiful spring day. What do you say to a carriage ride in Hyde Park?”

  “What a delightful idea, Augustus,” Diane replied, “but how will we accomplish that? How did you get here this afternoon?”

  “I came in my carriage,” Bell replied, pointing to a curricle with a roan-coloured gelding cropping the grass behind Diane’s carriage.

  “You have not thought this through, Augustus. The three of us cannot fit into your curricle, and if you ride with us, who will drive your vehicle?”

  Bell frowned for a moment. “I have it,” he said, his face brightening. “I shall play coachman for you two young ladies, and your man can follow in my curricle.”

  “Nonsense. You, our coachman?” Diane laughed while Harriet frowned and shook her head.

  “Why not? It should prove very entertaining. Here, my good man,” he said to Diane’s servant, “get down from there, if you please.” He untied his own horse and handed the reins to the driver. The man grinned, touched his hat, and climbed into Bell’s curricle.

  “Ladies,” Bell said, handing Harriet and Diane up into their carriage. Harriet climbed in with reluctance. She was afraid that Mr. Bell would appear a perfect jackanapes in public. The gentleman bounded into the driver’s seat and, with a whistle and a snap of the reins, drove away at a smart pace with Diane’s coachman following in behind.

  Once they arrived at Hyde Park, Bell doffed his hat and called a greeting to whomever he recognized driving or strolling by. Several people made derisive comments or hooted with laughter as they recognized the driver. Harriet thought the joke unseemly given Diane’s recent mourning, but Diane was obviously
enjoying the escapade, waving and smiling at acquaintances. After a half hour’s leisurely drive, however, Bell grew bored with the joke and drove them home. He stopped in front of Diane’s house and helped the ladies to descend. Diane smiled, but Harriet would not meet his eyes. Diane’s coachman had driven the curricle at a more sedate pace and arrived just in time to attend to the horses while Bell escorted the ladies to the door.

  “You are an excellent driver, Augustus. If my coachman ever leaves me, perhaps you would consider the position?” Diane said.

  The gentleman swept off his hat and bowed. “I cannot think of a better use of my time, Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” he replied, kissing her gloved hand. Diane broke off a daisy from her bouquet and tucked it into his lapel before going into the house. Harriet was about to follow when Bell blocked her path. Harriet looked around uneasily, just in time to see the butler discreetly closing the door behind him.

  “How did you like the park today, Miss Walters?” the dandy asked, leaning against the railing.

  Harriet paused and folded her hands over her skirt. “I hardly took any notice of my surroundings, to be truthful, sir.”

  “You did not seem to enjoy my little joke.”

  “I wonder what Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s friends will think of us parading around the park with her mother so recently deceased?”

  Bell sat down at her feet and rested back on his elbows. “Diane’s friends will think nothing of it. They are used to me playing the fool. Only the sanctimonious will think my prank unseemly.”

  “But why would you expose Mrs. Fitzwilliam to any kind of censure?”

  “Bah, Diane does not give a snap for anyone so stuffy.”

  “But her husband is a Member of Parliament, sir, and some of his constituents may feel differently about what constitutes unseemly behaviour.”

  Bell tilted his head back and squinted up at her. “Hmm, you do have a point, Miss Walters. I would not want to cost old Fitzwilliam any votes. What do you suggest I do to remedy the situation?”

  Harriet blurted out, “Do nothing, Mr. Bell. Don’t do anything which may draw further attention to the Fitzwilliams.”

  “You’re quite right. Soon another fool will do something equally or even more ridiculous, and no one will remember today’s small transgression. On the other hand, if I were to dive off London Bridge tomorrow, people will consider me a madman and congratulate Diane on her narrow escape from an insane friend.”

  Harriet sighed. “If you’re not going to be serious, sir, I shall go in.” She pushed past him and went into the house.

  Bell laughed and shouted, “Goodbye, little Miss Prim,” before she could close the door.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Diane had already recommended Harriet to her London dressmaker, but decided to take an inventory of Harriet’s wardrobe before the visit, from undergarments and gowns to hats, boots, and coats. She shook her head when she saw her friend’s meagre collection, and insisted that they take immediate action to supplement its deficiencies. The ladies spent two days visiting the shops, with Harriet’s head in a whirl as Diane instructed her on style, fabrics, cut, and embellishments. Diane completed this fashion pilgrimage by taking Harriet to an exclusive jeweller in Ludgate Hill, where the two ladies were conducted into a private room. The proprietor, a Mr. Peters, chose a selection of items for Harriet to consider, from simple jewellery appropriate for morning calls, to necklace, bracelet, and earring sets for formal occasions. Harriet’s eye was caught by a spectacular diamond and sapphire necklace, and she returned to this piece when everything else had been examined.

  “Oh, Diane, it is exquisite. I have never seen anything so beautiful,” Harriet enthused, staring at the necklace in its velvet case.

  Diane smiled at Peters. “My friend has lived in the country for the majority of her life. She has not had the opportunity to see such beautiful stones and settings before.” The proprietor acknowledged the compliment with a bow.

  “Dare I try it on?” Harriet asked. Within a moment, Mr. Peters had whisked the necklace from its case and clasped it around her neck, moving a table-top mirror directly in front of her to admire the piece. Harriet’s hand trembled as she touched the necklace, mesmerized by its glittering reflection.

  “Diane, it’s much too grand for me.”

  “Nonsense, it looks wonderful on you.”

  “Where would I wear it?”

  “Hasn’t Colonel York offered to take you to the theatre and the opera?”

  “Yes . . . .”

  “Think how it would set off your white silk gown with the ostrich feathers. You’ll look magnificent.”

  Harriet hesitated. “May I ask the cost, Mr. Peters?”

  The proprietor bent and whispered the figure into her ear. Harriet’s eyes flew open.

  “No, I couldn’t. It would be too indulgent to spend so much money,” she said, hurrying to unfasten the gems. Diane covered Harriet’s hands with her own, however.

  “Now, dear, think of it as an investment. I found two very handsome necklaces and a bracelet of mother’s at the bank that I don’t remember her ever wearing, not to mention the pearl and diamond necklace. You see, even mother believed in jewellery as an investment.”

  “But, Diane, see that pretty little cameo? I would feel much more comfortable wearing it.”

  “That’s fine – take them both. Enough. I shall not listen to any further argument. You have the means, and I would be remiss not to convince you to buy the sapphires.”

  Harriet considered for a moment before acquiescing. Peters laid the necklace back in its case, picked up the tray with the other pieces, and left the room to wrap her purchases.

  Diane smiled. “I am pleased by your good sense, Harriet. Now, I must find a new gold chain for my topaz cross while we are here.”

  A week later, Harriet had an appointment to go to the opera with Colonel York. She dressed and came down to the salon early that evening, sitting stiffly on one end of the couch while Diane sat doing her needlepoint on the other. When Colonel York entered the room, Harriet rose to her feet. The colonel stopped in the middle of his greeting to gape at her.

  Harriet wore her new white silk gown with the under and over-dresses trimmed in ostrich feathers at the shoulder and hem. Her arms were encased in long white gloves that stretched to the slit sleeves. Her hair was tucked into a turban also trimmed with ostrich feathers, and the diamond and sapphire necklace sparkled against her throat.

  “Doesn’t she look lovely, Colonel?” Diane inquired. The gentleman recovered his composure and strode forward to greet them.

  “You look very well, Miss Walters,” he said before taking Diane’s proffered hand. Harriet remained silent.

  “You look very distinguished yourself, Colonel,” Diane said. “What a handsome ruby stickpin you are wearing. I think that it must be new. I must say, I do envy the two of you your excursion tonight. Fitzwilliam is at the House, so I shall have a quiet evening alone at home. Well, do not let me keep you. The traffic around Covent Garden can be very trying on opening night. I shall not wait up, so please stop for refreshments afterward, if you choose. Have a wonderful evening.”

  “Thank you, Diane, I’m sure that we will,” Harriet said.

  The colonel escorted the young woman to his carriage, and she sat quietly by his side as he manoeuvred the vehicle into the street. Once they were underway, Harriet said, “I shouldn’t wonder that you stared on first seeing me this evening, Colonel.”

  The gentleman started. “I beg your pardon, Miss Walters. Did I stare? My apologies, I did not mean to.”

  Harriet’s hand touched the stiff curls protruding from her turban. “I visited Diane’s dressmaker to have some gowns made for the London season. I’ve never worn such – such ostentatious clothing before. Tell me truthfully, do I look ridiculous in this ensemble? I feel like a chicken dressed up to resemble an ostrich.”

  The colonel coughed and squirmed in his seat. “Come now, Miss Walters, you mustn’t ask me that. I
know nothing about women’s fashions. You’re just not accustomed to wearing some of these new, fancy styles ‒ that’s all. By the way, that’s a splendid necklace you’re wearing.”

  Harriet’s hand fluttered to her throat. “I’m afraid that the clasp will come undone, and that it will slip off without my noticing. I wish that I had left it behind. I don’t know how women dare wear such expensive jewellery outside their homes.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I promise to keep an eye on it all evening.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Harriet said with a small smile before falling silent again. She watched the passing buildings while the colonel looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Miss Walters,” he said after a few minutes, “I must admit that ladies’ fashions are incomprehensible to me. I don’t see how you can be comfortable with all the frills and feathers that your sex wears. But don’t worry about how you look this evening. Diane will know just what should be worn to an opening night at the opera. You’ll fit right in with the other ladies, you'll see.” He smiled reassuringly, and Harriet relaxed a little.

  “Thank you,” she replied. “I shall try to feel a little less like a chicken.”

  But when the couple had taken their seats at the Royal Opera House and Harriet had begun to glance about the auditorium, she forgot to feel self-conscious. She stared at the crowd of people crammed into the enormous space, her eyes taking in the rows of boxes and balconies rising toward the magnificent inlaid ceiling. The men and women chirped and preened, the ladies wielding their fans so vigorously that she had the impression of a flock of birds about to take flight. When the curtain rose, however, Harriet forgot them to focus her attention on the stage.