Page 36 of Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman

She dashed away a prickle of tears as the carriage stopped before a smartly appointed brick town house. Then the steps were put down, a footman handed her out and she was up the steps and through the doorway, where a butler took her wrap and ushered into an elegant room done in rococo pastel plasterwork.

She’d barely seated herself when Lady Parnell swept into the room in a swish of silk and a faint scent of roses.

She found herself enveloped in a hug. ‘Amanda, my dear, I’m so glad to have you with me at last! I hope your journey was not too tedious.’

‘No, it was quite interesting, actually.’

Stepping back, her hostess inspected Amanda from hem to bonnet. ‘What a charming young lady you’ve become!’ she concluded. ‘With such a look of your mother about you, it’s almost as if I were seeing Lydia again, arriving for our début Season! But enough of that; you will be feeling her absence a hundredfold more than I,’ she said, giving Amanda’s hands a sympathetic squeeze. ‘You didn’t come here to wallow in grief, but to be diverted and to settle your future. With my girls married and breeding, I can’t think of anything more delightful than finding you a husband.’

‘I hope it won’t prove too much of a burden.’

‘With your beauty and dowry, I shall have to beat away the suitors! Although, clever girl, you have made one conquest already.’

‘Conquest?’ Amanda repeated, puzzled.

‘Don’t be coy,’ Lady Parnell said, wagging a reproving finger. ‘I’ve already heard from Jane Trowbridge that you made quite an impression on her son, Lucien. In fact, we are bid to dine with the Trowbridge family, as soon as we make you presentable.’

A purely feminine satisfaction buoyed her spirits at that confirmation of her appeal to the eligible Lord Trowbridge. With Lady Parnell’s help, there was no reason she should not make exactly the sort of sterling match her mama and grandmama had always envisioned.

She only need follow her mentor’s expert advice and put her whole heart and mind into the effort, which meant burying memories of a certain gentleman and the indiscretions of the recent past.

‘When do you think I will be “presentable”?’

‘Naturally, you can’t appear in public, certainly not at anything as important as a dinner at Ravensfell House, until you’ve acquired a new wardrobe. You, my dear, must set styles, not merely follow them. Fortunately, your papa can afford it!’

‘You don’t think society will find me…too old?’

Lady Parnell chuckled. ‘My dear, you’re not past your bloom yet! But here I am, chattering on, when you must be exhausted after rattling around in a coach for hours. Let me show you to your chamber. I thought you would prefer to have a tray in your room tonight and retire early.’

With the excitement of her arrival fading, Amanda found fatigue replacing it. ‘Thank you, I am rather weary.’

‘Ring when you’re ready and Kindle will bring up a tray. I took the liberty of ordering several garments from my favourite modiste, Madame Clotilde, who will bring the gowns by tomorrow morning; keep what you like, and she’ll measure you for more. I still had the copies of La Belle Assemblée with the designs your Mama circled.’

The memory enveloped her, vivid, piercing: sitting with Mama in the sunlit south parlour overlooking the garden, fashion periodicals spread around them as they discussed styles and colours. A sudden pang of longing for Mama swept through her, closing up her throat so she couldn’t reply.

Her distress must have shown on her face, for Lady Parnell’s eyes sheened with sympathetic tears. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured, pulling Amanda into a hug. ‘How unfair to be robbed of the chance to share this Season with your mama, something we’d planned since you were an infant!’

‘However,’ she said, setting Amanda back at a distance, ‘the best remedy for distress is to fill your head with pleasant thoughts, like gowns and parties and beaux. So, enjoy this quiet evening in your chamber. After tomorrow, you will have very few such, for I mean to launch you into a full schedule of activities right from the start!’

The image of Ashton Grove, gilded in late afternoon sunlight—and a certain gentleman’s golden smile—tugged at her mind again. If she wished to make a success of her Season, better to begin displacing that image as soon as possible. Firmly pushing it away, she said, ‘I’m ready and eager to begin.’

And with that, Amanda was escorted by her hostess to a charming blue-and-cream bedchamber that, she was told, had been the abode of the eldest Parnell daughter—the one who’d snared a marquess. For luck, her hostess said with a conspiratorial wink, before sending in Amanda’s maid and abjuring her to rest, bathe and relax.

Amanda was female enough to be excited about the prospect of spending a few hours acquiring the loveliest gowns she’d ever owned. Knowing she looked her best would help squelch the nervousness that fluttered in her stomach at the thought of meeting Lord Trowbridge again…when the stakes were no longer just an idle flirtation in the country, but perhaps the settling of her future.

Trowbridge was a handsome and extremely eligible parti—but he was not the only attractive single gentleman in London.

She refused to be rushed. While interested in getting to know Trowbridge better, she also wished to meet other gentleman. After all, her eventual husband must please her, as well as her pleasing him. Besides, after waiting so long, she meant to wring every ounce of enjoyment from this Season.

After helping her out of her travel-stained garments, Betsy assisted her into a steaming tub. Settling back into the scented water with a smile, Amanda turned her thoughts to browsing through street after street of shops and attending musical and theatre productions presented by the foremost performers of the age. She would make her entry into ballrooms glittering with bejewelled guests, dance every set on the arm of some charming partner, her progress across the room followed by admiring male glances and envious female ones.

And finally, one day soon, she hoped, she would find a gentleman whose ardent gaze would fill her with the same sense of desire and anticipation as Greville Anders’s.

Chapter Seventeen

The next afternoon, garbed in a smart new gown of jonquil crepe, Amanda stood admiring herself in the glass, lighter of heart than she’d been in a long time. It was impossible for anyone with a particle of interest in fashion not to be delighted after having spent several hours trying on the half-dozen new gowns now hanging in her wardrobe, each one lovelier than last. Betsy was still busy putting away the accompanying gloves, bonnets, slippers, reticules, pelisses and delicate, lacy undergarments.

A knock at the door interrupted her preening. Turning to see Lady Parnell enter, impulsively she ran over and gave her a hug. ‘Thank you so much for all you arranged! I feel like a fairy princess.’

‘And so you look! Lord Trowbridge will be bewitched for certain,’ her sponsor predicted with a smile. ‘I came to carry you off for tea, so we might go over the invitations and decide which to accept.’

Amanda took that lady’s arm and the two descended to the parlour. After they were seated, tea cups filled, Lady Parnell said, ‘First, I’ve just received a note from Lady Ravensfell, Lord Trowbridge’s mama, promising an invitation to dine next week. As I expect you know, the earl occupies a very prominent place in the cabinet. There are certain to be many government officials there—though perhaps not any other eligible gentlemen. If Lady Ravensfell favours her son’s suit, she’ll not wish to include much competition!’

‘How could she have decided that already?’ Amanda asked, an uncomfortable feeling of pressure settling on her chest.

‘You are my protégée, of course, and she trusts my judgement.’

The discomfort eased. Naturally, all doors would be open to Lady Parnell’s ward.

Her sponsor ticked off on her fingers a list of the government officials who might be in attendance, complimenting Amanda as she responded with the appropriate names and titles. ‘I should hope I would be knowledgeable,’ Amanda turned aside the praise. ‘Papa has subscribed to all the London journals for years, so Mama, Grandmama and I would be able to follow the developments at Court and in government.’

‘You shall make an excellent political wife!’ Lady Parnell pronounced. ‘London is still a bit thin of company, some families not arriving until after Easter, but the important society hostesses are now present. There’s always the ballet or theatre if no more interesting entertainment presents itself. I think we shall start with Lady Ormsby’s rout tomorrow.’

Before Amanda could respond, Kindle appeared at the door. ‘My Lady, we have callers. Although I know you are not receiving, I didn’t wish to turn these visitors away without consulting you.’ The butler presented a card to Lady Parnell.

‘Thank you, Kindle, you’ve done just as you ought,’ she exclaimed after reading it. ‘Will you see that refreshments are brought to the Blue Parlour?’

‘They’ve already been ordered, my lady. Shall I tell the visitors you will be down directly?’

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