Mistress in the Regency Ballroom: The Rake's Unconventional Mistress / Marrying the Mistress

But it was too late to take Miss Melborough anywhere before the footman opened the door, his announcement obliterated by the loud greeting of Lady Boyce who had come on a mission of some urgency. ‘Letitia!’she bawled, then stopped abruptly to take in the unusual scene of her eldest daughter dressing the hair of a dishevelled young beauty, while her plump brown neighbour looked on with alarm written clearly on her face. With eyes sharpened by years of training, Lady Boyce saw that something was seriously amiss—a minor tragedy that demanded her personal investigation.

The hour that followed was one of the most difficult Letitia ever had to endure while defending Sapphire Melborough against Lady Boyce’s embarrassing inquisition, far worse than Mrs Quayle’s barbed enquiries. After ignoring repeated invitations to visit Paradise Road, she had chosen that Sunday morning to descend upon her daughter at last, not with smiles of appreciation, but solely to find out more about the relationship with the man she had earmarked for one of her younger daughters. Hoping to arrive before Letitia’s return from church, she had intended to do at least half an hour of snooping. She did not enjoy having her plans dislodged, but she did enjoy demanding answers to searching questions, regardless of the fact that Miss Melborough’s plight was no concern of hers. This kind of detail had never stopped her in the past, and nor did it now.

Usually able to hold her own in an argument, Letitia was this time no match for her mother, particularly on an issue that needed handling with great sensitivity. No amount of protectiveness towards Sapphire would do: that was seen as being on the side of the sinner. And as for Letitia’s ideas of a seminary, it had already sunk to a level of vulgarity made worse by the noisy and untimely appearance of Charity, the young lady’s maid who, more to save her skin than for any finer feeling, blurted out before anyone could stop her, her own innocent part in the role she had been told to play that morning. With additions.

Letitia’s prayer for another unscheduled appearance in the form of Lord Rayne had no effect. If anyone could have dealt with Letitia’s mother, he could. But he did not appear and, after Sapphire’s eventual tearful departure to Letitia’s bedroom, Lady Boyce needed no more convincing that she was right about the seminary being a grave mistake, already being regretted. Having made her opinions clear about the scandal of Melborough’s daughter, she was not inclined to take luncheon with her niece, Rosie Gaddestone, or with Mrs Quayle and the boarding pupils. Instead, she launched once more into an attack upon Letitia, demanding to be told what she meant by driving out with her sisters’beau, making it look to the world as if she had stolen his affections. Did she realise what a disservice she was doing by this selfish behaviour? Did she realise the gossip it was causing? And the embarrassment? Did she have to wear those silly spectacles to draw attention to herself? Did she know how close Garnet was to being engaged to Rayne? Did she really believe a man like him could be seriously interested in her? Could she not see that she was not the kind of female such men married?

‘Mama, you’ve not told me anything I don’t already know. There is not the slightest possibility of marriage. Lord Rayne lives here in Richmond at the weekends and, because of my relationship to Garnet and Persephone, he and I are acquainted. Not good friends, Mama, just acquainted. He took me to Mortlake to see his sister, Lady Dorna Elwick, who is a friend of mine. There’s no more to it than that. Garnet has nothing to fear.’

‘And what about the theatre? I heard—’

‘There were fourteen of us, Mama.’

‘Well,’ she said, looking round at the blue, white and gold décor, the walnut table and chairs, the embroidered seat covers and cushions as if they belonged in a dingy street tavern, ‘it’s bad enough for you to be doing this kind of thing, without trying to take your sister’s future husband.’

‘Are you not being premature, Mama? You know how Lord Rayne tends to…?’

‘Yes, Letitia. I do know. That’s the problem. And you’re not helping matters, are you? And now this shocking scandal, too.’

‘Which no one need know of, Mama, unless you tell them.’

‘Then you must tell Rayne you no longer need his company,’ she said, rising. ‘That should redirect his interest. Don’t ask him to lunch with you again, either. That young Waverley is more your type. Summon my carriage, if you please. It’s time I was going.’

‘But don’t you wish to look round the house, Mama?’

‘No time today. I have guests coming this evening.’

‘I see. First things first, of course.’

Not being finely tuned to such nuances, Lady Boyce failed to pick up the cynicism. And had not Rosie Gaddestone entered the hall just as she was about to depart, she would have missed seeing her altogether after an interval of eight months. Her quick peck to each of Gaddy’s cheeks was both hello and goodbye, delivered to Letitia with the same artificiality.

It was not like Letitia to weep over matters such as this, but the only thing preventing her on this occasion was not fortitude but the gentle clasp of Gaddy’s arms around her shoulders and the scent of lavender in an embrace that lasted as the hall clock ticked and chimed over their heads.

‘Has Mrs Quayle told you?’ she whispered into Gaddy’s lace cap.

‘Yes, love. We’re not having a good day today, are we?’

‘No. Was Lord Rayne at church?’

‘Yes. He asked about you. I said you’d been delayed.’

‘We could have done with him here just now.’

‘A change of heart, Lettie dear? That’s not like you.’

‘I’m not much like me at the moment.’ She held her cousin away, her hands buried in the tiers of lace over her arms. ‘Oh, Gaddy, what a business this is. Now we may be sure that Mama will tell anyone who’ll listen what a mess I’m making of it.’And unless Lord Rayne stays well out of the way, she will broadcast Sapphire’s scandal far and wide. That’s for sure