Page 13 of The Meddler
“It is Miss Wilcox,” Perry said. “She must be unaware that you are home.”
“Miss Wilcox? But what can she be doing?” Jasper asked. It sounded as if the lady was having a boxing match with the instrument.
“Practicing, my lord,” Perry said, with a keen look of disdain. “Thatis how she plays. Lady Mendleton suggested she practice when nobody is about. Shall I tell her to cease?”
“No,” Jasper said, “do not bother. I am on my way out soon enough.”
Perry nodded and left, closing the door firmly behind him. As Jasper drank his coffee and attempted to ignore Miss Wilcox’s dreadful dissonance, he wondered what sort of young lady came at an instrument with so little skill. She seemed to know an awful lot about horses and not a thing about a pianoforte. Whatever she was, she was not the usual lady come to Town for her first season.
Though, despite her lack of musical skill she would be a hit, he was sure. Nobody who viewed that lovely face would fail to feel the allurement of it.
Was that part of the game, then? It was not unknown that a courtesan might be in the employ of secret sponsors. A man’s downfall over a pretty face was a tale as old as time. It was known widely that he often visited the queen, how much easier to slip a spy into this house then the palace. But the daughter of a baron? That would certainly put a new spin on it.
On the other hand, if somebody were looking for an easy mark, they might not look further than his mother. She was enthusiastic, and very kind. But she was dreadfully naïve.
If there were such a scheme, would not Miss Wilcox be the perfect lady to send into it? She was remarkably pretty and had a very charming way about her. There was nothing simpering in her manner, and she did not fish for compliments. He’d found he quite liked looking at her face and listening to her voice over dinner, and he had been sorry when it had ended.
On the other hand, while another lady dining with him might have concerned herself with gathering praises,shehad been inquisitive about his work for the queen.Shehad failed to mention encountering the mad king.
He straightened his papers and stood up. He did not have enough information and he did not have the time to come to any conclusions this instant. He needed to see the queen and explain how the story of the king and the buried carriage had ended up in the newspapers, possibly through his own household.
*
Georgiana might nothave been so nervous to be presented to Lady Mendleton’s society of ladies, had the lady been at all calm herself. She was just now pacing the drawing room like a trapped tiger.
“Perhaps you might tell me something of the ladies before they arrive,” Georgiana said, hoping to distract her hostess. “What are they like?”
“Oh yes, well, let’s see,” Lady Mendleton said, “Lady Featherstone is rather practical I often think, but not as…strident about it as are some others. Lady Easton is a dear, really, as long as things end up done properly. Her house runs like a clock! Lady Redfield is a bit of a marshmallow, which I find very charming. She’s always very agreeable.”
Lady Mendleton fell to silence and began pacing again.
Georgiana was aware that there were five ladies coming, though she had only heard described three. “And the last two ladies?” she asked.
Louisa froze mid-pace. “The last two?” she said, her voice sounding as if it had gone an octave higher.
“Yes,” Georgiana said, beginning to be alarmed by Lady Mendleton’s alarm.
Lady Mendleton collapsed into a chair and said, “It’s just that Penelope, Lady Heathway, well, she can be frightening if one listens closely to what she is saying—rather like a general directing troops. And then of course Theodosia…well, she is a duchess, and you know what they can be like.”
Having never met anybody so elevated, Georgiana had not the first idea of what a duchess could be like. She waited for Lady Mendleton to elaborate.
“Rather imperious sometimes,” Lady Mendleton said. “Though I do so admire her confidence!”
The clatter of a carriage coming to a stop interrupted Lady Mendleton’s rather concerning descriptions of her friends. The lady ran to the window and peeked out.
“Good Lord, it’s her. Why is she never late?”
Byher, Georgiana supposed it was either the duchess or Lady Heathway, as those two ladies seemed to unnerve Lady Mendleton the most. She leapt up from her own chair, now filled with trepidation.
Two footmen, seeming to have been waiting for the moment, swept in and laid the tea. A minute later, Perry led in the recently arrived guest.
“My dear friend,” Lady Mendleton said, grasping the lady’s hands. “Here she is, here is Miss Wilcox.”
As Georgiana swept down into a low curtsy, she realized that she had not the first idea if this was Lady Heathway or the Duchess of Stanbury. What was she to say? Your Grace or Lady Heathway?
She decided that if she were to go wrong, it had best be in naming a lady a duchess who wasn’t, rather than insulting a duchess who was.
“Your Grace,” she said.
