Regency Pleasures: A Model Débutante. Louise Allen
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‘But, ma’am, even if my father had lived, I would not have expected one-twentieth of this fortune as my portion!’
‘Perhaps not, but I am sure you would have been able to live a life of comfort and security and to make your come-out, would you not?’ She waited for Tallie’s nod of agreement, then pressed on. ‘Now you find yourself all alone without the family to assist with your belated entry into Society and perhaps you are a little nervous of how to go on.’
‘But I do not look to make a come-out, ma’am,’ Tallie protested. ‘I am much too old! I have not been able to give this any thought, but perhaps I should find myself a house, in a country town maybe, where I may live respectably with a companion—’
‘And wither into an old maid?’ Lady Parry interrupted. ‘Nonsense! What a waste that would be. How old are you, child?’
‘Five and twenty, ma’am.’
‘Indeed, you do not look it, and you will look it even less when your hair is dressed and you are clothed as befits your station. There is not the slightest reason why you should not come out this Season, and even less why you should not find any number of most eligible suitors when you do. Not, of course, the young sprigs such as my son—they will all be too busy flirting with silly little chits just out of the schoolroom, as green as they are themselves. No, you will attract the slightly older men, those who are bored with vapid girls in their first Season and who look for character and intelligence as well as a pretty face and good breeding.’
Tallie blinked. This fairy-tale picture was so far from her imaginings that she could not believe Lady Parry was serious. ‘But—’
‘But me no buts! Really, my dear, are you attempting to tell me that you had resigned yourself to your life of industry and self-reliance; that you dreamed no dreams?’
‘Why, no, ma’am, I mean, yes, I had resigned myself . What use are dreams when one must worry day to day whether one can continue to support a respectable style of living, however modest?’ Perhaps some dreams, her conscience prompted her. Perhaps some dreams about cool grey eyes and a lazily amused, deep voice …
‘Then you must learn to dream, Tallie. In fact, you must learn to make your dreams reality.’
‘I would need a chaperon,’ Tallie said doubtfully. ‘I believe one can hire gentlewomen who arrange come-outs …’
‘Shabby genteel, most of them,’ Lady Parry said dismissively. ‘What I was going to suggest was that you come here to stay with me and I launch you this Season. There, what do you say to that?’
Tallie felt her mouth fall open unbecomingly and shut it with a snap. ‘Lady Parry … ma’am … I could not possibly impose upon you. Thank you so much for such a wonderful offer, but—’
‘I have told you, Tallie, no buts!’ The older woman leaned forward and took Tallie’s right hand in hers. ‘My dear, let me confide in you. I have no daughter, no nieces and I long for the fun of launching a débutante upon a Season. I want the company, I want to have a lively young person to shop with, to gossip with, to watch over and hope for. I want a daughter—and you need a mama. What could be more perfect?’ Tallie stared at her speechlessly, feeling like Cinderella, whirled from her cold hearth into the glittering ballroom at the palace at the wave of a magic wand. ‘Do say yes!’
Feeling as though she was stepping into space, Tallie whispered, ‘Yes.’ Then her voice returned to her. ‘Oh, yes, your ladyship, if you are quite sure I would be no trouble …’
‘I want you to be a trouble! I want to plot and plan and make lists and schemes. We must think of parties and dances and I must make sure all the most influential hostesses know about you. Vouchers for Almack’s, drives in the parks. Gowns, a riding horse, dancing lessons … We will be worn out, my dear, never fear. Oh, yes, and will you not call me Aunt Kate?’
‘I could never …’ Tallie saw her ladyship’s expressive face fall and smiled helplessly. ‘If you really wish me to, ma’am … Aunt Kate. I will do my very best not to disappoint you and to be useful.’
‘Then you may start by pulling the bell rope for Rainbird. Will you be ready to move here in a week, do you think? Ah, Rainbird, has my nephew left yet?’
‘He is on the point of doing so, my lady. Shall I request him to step in here?’
Nick Stangate put his head around the door, sending a sharp glance from his aunt’s animated expression to Tallie’s stunned face. ‘I see my aunt has outlined her scheme, Miss Grey.’
‘And dear Tallie has accepted my suggestion,’ Lady Parry responded gleefully. ‘Will you drive Miss Grey home, Nicholas? You may tell her your thoughts on a suitable bank and man of business while you are about it.’ Taking his assent as read, she got to her feet and enveloped Tallie in a warm embrace. ‘Off you go with Lord Arndale and I will speak to the housekeeper about your room. I did not dare tempt fate by making anything ready before I had spoken to you.’
Dazedly murmuring her thanks, Tallie allowed herself to be swept into the hallway and out to where a groom was standing patiently at the head of a pair of match bays harnessed to a rakish high-perch phaeton.
Nick Stangate helped her up into a seat, which seemed dangerously far above the roadway, and swung himself up beside her. ‘Let them go, Chivers.’
They wove through the traffic in silence for a few minutes, then Nick remarked, ‘Stunned into silence by your good fortune, Miss Grey?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted baldly. ‘It all seems like a dream—the money, Lady Kate’s wonderful offer, a Season … And last week I was worrying about whether I could afford a new gown and—’ She broke off, biting her lip.
‘And?’
‘And Miss Gower and thinking about how shallow it was to worry about such a little thing as old gowns or muddy hatboxes when someone for whom you have affection and respect is reaching the end of their life.’
‘And you had no idea of her intentions towards you?’ He reined in to allow an old-fashioned closed carriage to draw away from the kerbside, then let the bays ease back into a trot, watchfully negotiating the Bond Street traffic.
‘Why, no, not the slightest hint. It is so improbable, so like a fairy story I still cannot believe it.’
There was a hint of laughter in his voice as he said, ‘Miss Gower as the fairy godmother—yes, I can imagine her in that role, wearing one of those outrageous hats you used to make for her.’
‘She liked them as pretty as they could be,’ Tallie said defensively. ‘I am glad she saw the last one I made for her; it was quite impossibly pink with as much ruched silk ribbon as I could fit under the brim and a big rose.’
‘I saw it,’ Nick assured her. ‘She had it on the stand by her bed and showed it off to all her visitors—’ He broke off, then added, ‘Do you have a handkerchief?’
‘I am so sorry.’ Tallie scrabbled in her reticule and blew her nose. ‘You must think