Lady In Waiting Part 4

"You're a rake."

"Aye, I am. But I dinna lie." His eyes were smoldering. "Ever."

Blood raised into her cheeks, heating them.

"'Tis our last dance. Another would declare more than I intend-right now."

Jenny pinned him with her gaze. Right now? Just what did he mean by that? But since he seemed to be waiting for her to respond, she nodded. She must look like an idiot to him. Always bobbin' her head up and down. How she wished she knew what else to do-what to say! She was so clearly out of her element here.

"So when might I call?"

"C-call?" she stammered.

"Aye. If ye'll be remainin' in Bath a wee bit longer."

"Oh." Jenny frantically searched the ballroom for the Featherton ladies. This was only to be for one night. One. She could never maintain this ruse for more than a few hours-could she?

But Jupiter he was handsome. Why just the sight of him made her belly swoop and her legs quiver like quince jelly. Still, he was a rake. A rake who, for some reason, fancied her.

To what end though? She had to concede that it was entirely possible that he saw through her guise-saw her for the servant girl she truly was. Worry plummeted into the pit of her stomach and sat there as heavily as a wedge of Cook's foul Candlemas cake. He likely thought her a light skirt, one with whom he could take his bodily pleasure, then walk away without thinking nary a thought.

Like her father had done with her mother.

Bah! What was she thinking? This was too ridiculous.

Besides, she reasoned, after this eve the ladies would have had their fun, and the novelty of dressing her up like a princess and sending her off to the ball to meet the handsome prince-err... viscount-would surely have lost its sheen.

Oh, perdition. She didn't want this dream of being a proper lady to end! This is what she was born to. A grand lady was who she was meant to be.

Then, quite suddenly, Lord Argyll's expression changed. The c.o.c.ky roguish grin was gone. "Fergive me, my lady. I've fergotten me place."

What? What is he going on about now? He's done nothing wrong. Or am I too coa.r.s.e to realize it? Best feign displeasure. Yes, that's it. Jenny screwed up her features until she felt she had attained a fair approximation of being appalled.

But the corner of the viscount's mouth twitched, leaving Jenny to wonder if he'd figured her out.

"I should have asked yer duennas fer permission to call on ye."

Yes. Yes! If he asked the ladies-showed a bit of interest in her-then perhaps they might consider allowing the game to continue... for a short time anyway.

She smiled brightly up at him. "I should very much like an interview. But of course, the decision is entirely up to the Featherton ladies. My future is in their capable hands."

Criminy, if he only knew how true that statement was.

As the music ended, and Lord Argyll, the gorgeous Lord Argyll, escorted her back to the Feathertons and Meredith, Jenny's heart pounded louder than the kettledrum in the orchestra.

Oh, please, please, grant his request, she chanted inside her head, as if doing so could mentally compel the two dotty old ladies to bend to her will.

But as they reached the fold, Meredith s.n.a.t.c.hed up Jenny's hand and hauled her several steps away. Jenny stared back as Argyll began to speak to the ladies Let.i.tia and Viola.

No, no! She wouldn't be able to hear anything from where they were now standing. She looked longingly toward the Feathertons and Argyll.

"Jenny," Meredith began. "I've spoken with my aunts and, well, you will never believe this but-" She sucked in a breath so deep that even over the murmur of conversation around them Jenny could hear Meredith's corset creak. "They have agreed to allow you to continue on with Lord Argyll."

Jenny narrowed her gaze. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"They see the affection you and the viscount already have for each other. And lud, you know that matchmaking is their grandest pa.s.sion in life."

Jenny nodded at that. Their fervor for orchestrating love matches was every bit as consuming as hers for shopping.

"And, well..." Meredith's pupils grew impossibly large. "They intend to see the two of you engaged!"

"Did you say... well of course you didn't...?" Jenny suddenly felt faint. "Engaged?"

"Yes, engaged. Can you imagine what fun this will be?" Meredith bounced on her heels. "But, la, we have so much to do. You have so much to learn. We've already decided that a dance master is first on the list-but only to refine your repertoire. And of course, you will need a new wardrobe. At least two or three gowns for evening events, and a walking frock or two..."

After the phrase "new wardrobe" Jenny barely heard another word. Well, except the bit about three gowns and a walking frock.

A little tremble of excitement raced through her. Could this really be happening? Was her grandest dream coming true-at least for a short while?

No, surely she was dreaming. Of course. As Meredith rambled on, Jenny caught a bit of the flesh inside her cheek between her upper and lower teeth and bit down hard. "Ouch!"

Meredith startled at her outburst. "What is it? Are you well?"

Jenny's lips slid away from her teeth and she beamed back at the girl. "Perfectly."

How could she be otherwise? Somehow, her dream had slipped through the bonds of her imagination and taken solid form.

Still smiling, she turned and caught Lord Argyll's gaze.

"Soon," he mouthed.

Soon, Jenny echoed, and a pleasurable p.r.i.c.kle danced across her skin.

The next morning, Jenny sat in the drawing room, waiting impatiently for the two Featherton ladies, who watched her from the settee, to begin. She fidgeted with her mob cap, tucking away a loose curl, then set about smoothing a wrinkle on the sleeve of her gray cambric work dress. It was all she could do not to thrum her fingers on her knee or nervously pick at her nails. But a lady would have more control, and therefore, so must she.

"Jenny, dear," Lady Viola continued softly. "What we are about to undertake is fraught with risk. If you do not follow our instruction to the smallest letter, our project will be at an end. The persona we carefully craft for you will crumble and the lot of us will no doubt be run out of Bath, despite our current standing in society."

"No one, and especially not members of the ton, likes to play the fool," Lady Let.i.tia added, somewhat sternly.

Jenny swallowed deeply. "I understand, my lady."

Lady Let.i.tia lifted a brow and stared hard at her. "We are not asking that you understand, gel. You've always been headstrong. We are not blind to the fact that you often see rules as... pliable, shall we say?"

"Dear," Lady Viola began, "what Sister is trying to say is that we need your a.s.surance that you will do nothing without our direction."

"That's right, gel. Nothing. You are unschooled in the ways of society. What may pa.s.s for acceptable on the street or below stairs may draw ridicule from the ton."

Jenny nodded. "I understand, my ladies, and I vow to do as you direct." No matter how bleedin' crazy it might seem, she added mentally.

Why, they could ask her to attend a ball with a birdcage on her head and she would do it. For without them, her dream of becoming a lady would be just that-a grand, but unreachable dream.

Broad smiles grew on the two Featherton ladies' painted-on lips.

Lady Let.i.tia dislodged her ample bottom from the settee and, with the a.s.sistance of her walking stick, came to her feet. "Well then, shall we begin?"

A little glow began to bloom inside Jenny, an energy spreading through her like the wake of a flame. She sprang to her feet. "I am ready." A giggle erupted between her lips. "It's as though I have been preparing for this all my life."

Just then, Meredith entered the drawing room with a ma.s.sive bundle of dresses, hats, and wraps. When she reached the center of the room, she tossed them into the air and let every last piece cascade to the Aubusson carpet.

"'Tis no use, Aunties," Meredith said forlornly. "I thought at least something would suit Jenny's needs, but nothing does. See for yourself."

The two ladies lifted their brows and peered over their noses to the scattered pile on the floor.

"What about the ruby gown?"

Jenny s.n.a.t.c.hed it up off the floor and examined it. She wrinkled her brow. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but the cut is for a young girl, not a woman grown."

When the Feathertons exchanged meaningful glances, Jenny quickly amended her words. "But I can remake the gown. Why, all I'd need is a few sc.r.a.ps of sarcenet and a length or two of satin ribbon."

Instantly, Jenny felt Meredith's arm about her waist.

"You are so clever, Jenny. And 'tis a good thing too. You need a serviceable wardrobe quickly, and it will take more time than we have to set a modiste on the task."

Jenny felt her spirits plunge. She'd been daydreaming all morn of exploring the fabric and millinery shops for fas.h.i.+onable swathes of velvet and silk c.r.a.pe, from which she would have made modish gowns of the sort she'd drooled over in La Belle a.s.semblee, and Lady Viola's odd castoff issues of Ladies Monthly Magazine.

She looked at Lady Viola then, dressed in the ladies' signature lavender color, but clearly in what was modish at least ten years past! Why, to look at her, you'd never know the old miss studied fas.h.i.+on as carefully as Jenny herself.

The corner of Jenny's mouth lifted as she remembered finding a French magazine jutting from under the settee cus.h.i.+on and suddenly it all made sense. The prim Lady Viola fancied fas.h.i.+onable underpinnings. She knew she was right. Had to be. Why, she'd ask her mother about it the first chance she got, since it was she, for some odd reason, who exclusively a.s.sisted the lady with her dressing.

Edgar entered the room with a gleaming silver tray just then, and though he kept his eyes focused on Lady Let.i.tia, Jenny felt his cool disapproval of her. It mustn't sit well to see one of his staff lounging with the above stairs crowd, chatting as if she were their equal.

No, she was sure it didn't sit well with anyone below stairs. Devil take 'em. Devil take the lot of them.

Her blood was half-blue, was it not? She deserved this chance, more than anyone below stairs. And if anyone challenged her about it, she would tell them so directly. Jenny gave her head a good hard affirmative nod.

When she looked up again, Lady Let.i.tia had lifted her lorgnette before her eyes and was reading the vellum card Edgar had presented her. Her smile grew very broad, and she looked up at Jenny.

"Well now, you made a fine impression on Lord Argyll at the ball, my dear Jenny. He wasted not a moment securing the interview he'd requested. He shall call at four in the afternoon-tomorrow."

Jenny felt a shudder work its way down her body. "Tomorrow?" Tomorrow. Good heavens! She had so much yet to do.

Edgar cleared his throat and Jenny was startled to find him standing directly before her, now thrusting the silver salver before her nose. Hesitantly, Jenny lifted the missive from the tray and opened it.

How odd. It was written in Mr. Edgar's own hand. But the scrip was dark, as if written in haste... or even-gads-anger.

Annie and a footman are waiting below stairs. See to them as soon as you are able.

Jenny glanced sheepishly up at Edgar and gave a quick nod. Something must be dreadfully wrong. Mr. Edgar didn't usually permit his staff to have visitors. Lud, what was Annie thinking?

"Can you be prepared, Jenny?" Meredith was asking as she lifted the sleeve of the ruby gown Jenny was holding in her lap. "By four tomorrow?"

"Well..." She supposed she could repiece the gown into something more modish, and wear it for the viscount's interview.

But it would need something. Yes-the garnet b.u.t.tons. She'd need a bit of cream satin too, or maybe gold ribbon. Criminy, she needed to get to the shops, that's what she really needed to do, and in a hurry. Who knew how long it might take her to find just the right accents?

Jenny gave the dress a dubious look, then glanced sidelong at Lady Viola and sighed. "Well, I might be able to rework the gown-if I had no other duties this day or on the morrow. But of course, I have so much to do... like seeing to Miss Meredith's mending, and the laundry-"

Lady Viola turned her attention to Mr. Edgar, who was staring wide-eyed with thin lips agape at Jenny in all her audacity. "Jenny will be excused from her duties this day and tomorrow, Mr. Edgar. Please see if Mrs. Penny can fill in, and if not, engage a girl from town to a.s.sist."

Edgar nodded, then with a chilly parting glance to Jenny, one that made her skin ice over, he turned and left the room.

This was hardly the Edgar she knew and loved. Hardly the man who'd practically raised her alongside her mother. But then, she'd never disrupted his household and staff before either. Why couldn't everyone just be happy for her?

She deserved this chance, by golly. Deserved it!

Lady Let.i.tia caught her sister's hand and squeezed it enthusiastically before turning her faded blue eyes on Jenny. "There, 'tis all settled, gel. Off with you now. Got a bit of sewing to do if you are to be ready to receive Argyll tomorrow."

Jenny leapt to her feet. "Thank you, my ladies. Thank you so much!" Not knowing what else to do, she dropped a curtsy to them both, which obviously did not have quite the desired effect for it set the two old ladies into fits of giggles.

Then, she dashed off to the servants' pa.s.sage and went below stairs to see why Annie had come around.

Chapter Four.

"That's right, ducks," Annie excitedly announced to Jenny. "I'll be needin' six gallipots of the tingle cream today, and Horace 'ere, he'll be needin' two."

Jenny was stunned. "But... I haven't got any more."

The gleam in Annie's eyes faded. "But I was with you when you bought all the supplies yesterday. Told me you were going to set up the pots that eve."

Jenny's gaze fell to the floor. "I know, but last night... well, I went to the Fire and Ice Ball instead and-"

Annie roared with laughter. "Did you now? And which gown did you wear? Your black sack dress, or the brown with the cotton ap.r.o.n? I must say, I hope it was the brown. Sets off the green in your blinkers."

Jenny stared straight into Annie's eyes. "I wore Miss Meredith's saffron silk."

The merriment dissolved from Annie's face at once. "You aren't havin' me on, are you, Jenny?"

"No. Oh, Annie, you can't believe it. Last eve, my grandest dream came true-I became a lady. A real lady."

Annie slumped on the stool. "But how?"