Peggy made the mistake of giving in to Miss Nora when she suggested that Peggy return with her to Whitefall Hall to get dressed for their dinner. She could have done well enough on her own above the shop, but Miss Nora had made the astute point that it would save a trip of the carriage having to come back for her.
Had she been left to her own devices, Peggy would have merely washed her face, combed out her hair, pinned it back to the top of her head, and pulled out a fresh gown. Instead, Miss Nora insisted on looking through all of Peggy’s dresses to find just the right thing. If they had not been so differing in height, she suspected that her friend might have considered suggesting that she borrow one of her gowns. As it was, Miss Nora was more than pleased with the selection.
“You have very fine things,” she said as she held out a brilliant turquoise empire cut dress with a sheer overlay that glittered with silver thread. “Are you sure you are not secretly from a noble house?”
“You have my word,” Peggy laughed. “I have a friend of a friend who is a Duchess and is kind enough to pass on her castoffs.”
Miss Nora pursed her lips and sighed as she accepted the explanation. “What a shame,” she mused. “You really do make a finer lady than half of those I have had the odious misfortune of making acquaintance. Oh, plenty of them are just fine, excellent even, but some.” She shivered at the thought. “I met one lady, Blackwell I think was her name, the year that I came out, and she threw herself all over Nash and then tried to befriend me when he would have nothing to do with her! I told him I thought she was a snake in beautiful skin, and lo and behold, just last year it became known that she had done some horrendous things! No one has heard from her since and good riddance!”
Peggy felt as if she were going to be sick. She had known that Lady Blackwell, her very own devilish captor, had made news all across England for the terrible ring of indentured females that she had bought and sold at her whim. Still, hearing the name so far from London had been unexpected. Peggy had hoped never to hear that name again.
“Yes,” she said with every attempt to keep her voice from trembling. “I believe I heard about that. Let us not speak of such things when we have much happier thoughts this day.”
“You are absolutely right. She does not deserve mention.” At that, Miss Nora spun around and held out another gown, far too much for a simple dinner, that was a shocking white satin with black Brussels lace.
“I think not,” Peggy laughed. She reached around her friend and grabbed a simple satin visiting gown in emerald green. Miss Nora held the dress up to Peggy’s form as she tried to imagine what it would look like on and then nodded her approval.
“My Lily will do your hair, and you can borrow some of my jewelry, perhaps the emeralds.
“Absolutely not,” Peggy protested, and Nora relented. “Very well. We shall have to make do with a nice ribbon tied about your neck. It will be just the thing.”
Peggy grabbed her belongings and shoved them into a carpet bag with a pair of crème slippers before she pushed Miss Nora out the door. She would attend this dinner as the supposed guest of honor, but she would not make a fool of herself by dressing to the nines. Other than the Viscount and his wife, whom she had yet to meet, there was no one to impress. Her heart fluttered for a moment as she thought of Lord Belton, but she firmly suppressed the thought. Miss Nora and her brother were well accustomed to Peggy’s attire and though her gowns were fine, they were cast-offs, and she was not prone to embellishments.
Upon their arrival at Whitefall Hall, the women learned that the Viscount and the Viscountess had yet to make their arrival. Peggy was hoping to delay their primping by making introductions but instead found herself spirited to the second floor and into Miss Nora’s chambers.
For the next two hours, she was plucked and pinched and curled and then shoved into her gown without ceremony until finally the pair were declared by the meticulous maid to be suitable for the evening’s events.
Peggy could not recall the last time she had done anything more than stick a few pins in her hair to keep it from falling in her face. Tonight, she had to have no less than several dozen pins holding each curled section just so. They framed her face and tickled her ears. Lily had also pulled a few free so that they were made to casually trail down her neck. Peggy’s hair was quite long and with the delicate pieces had surpassed what the maid had considered an appropriate length, and she had cut them off without warning. Now, they hung just above her shoulders and would not dare to get tucked into the edges of her low-cut gown. Peggy had attempted to secure a Fichu about her shoulders, but neither the Lady nor the maid would hear of it.
“You would wear it perhaps in the morning,” the maid said, “but in the evening, no.”
Peggy had sighed and decided not to argue, but she felt self-conscious with her shoulders bare. Miss Nora had waited ages to have any female to dinner that was not her relation or multiple decades her senior and so she would allow her friend her small excitements.
“Can there really be no other ladies in the area?” Peggy asked with incredulity. “Certainly, you must have some companions in the neighborhood.”
“I had at one time,” Miss Nora explained. “Now they are all married off or spend most of the year in London. Of course, by now, it is unbearable in London. Most of the fashionable ladies are in Bath or Brighton by the Sea, although I’m sure a few of them are at their country homes. Not many are so far north. I see them all here and there, or we write, but it is not the same as when we were girls at school.”
Peggy could understand that. With adulthood came certain changes in behavior that Miss Nora had on several occasions condemned with dissatisfaction. Peggy could also understand why her friend did not wish for anything to change. Having witnessed her relationship with her brother these past few weeks and the lighthearted playfulness that still existed between them, she could see how Miss Nora would mourn that same sense of loss with her friends. She only hoped that if, or when, Lord Belton chose to take a wife for himself, his sister would not be excluded from his affections.
When the ladies descended the staircase, it was to be greeted by a petite woman that showed a striking resemblance to Miss Nora, save for the possession of several additional decades. Her dress was ice blue with silver embellishments. Diamonds surrounded her neck. Peggy could have determined even in a crowd that this woman could only be Miss Nora’s mother. They possessed the same delicate stature and bright green eyes filled with merriment, and although the Viscountess’s hair was streaked with silver, it was clear that it was once as golden as her daughter’s.
“Darling!” the Viscountess of Umberly greeted her daughter with open arms. Miss Nora fell into the embrace and clasped her mother’s hand as she pulled her forward to make Peggy’s acquaintance. Greetings were exchanged, and Lady Umberly insisted at once that Peggy call her Augusta.
“Lady Umberly makes me feel old,” she had complained. “It was all well when I was Lady Whitefall, but Umberly was always Peter’s father. When the late Duke died and we all moved up, that’s when I really began to feel my age. So, spare me the horror and just call me Augusta, my dear.”
Peggy laughed and promised to do as requested, even if it went against everything her father had taught her about titles and circumstance. In fact, even the lady’s age demanded that she be given some deference, but Peggy nodded, agreeing to adhere to the lady’s wishes.
“Good. Good.” The Viscountess nodded. “I could tell you had sense when I first saw you. Not like my Nora; she’s all trouble and misadventure. But I told her she has to remember that she is a lady regardless to the fact that she has allowed half the town to call her by her given name. I have so tried to keep her from becoming entirely feral.”
“Mama!” Miss Nora exclaimed. “How can you fault me when you do exactly the same thing?”
“Only teasing, love.” Augusta grinned as she patted her daughter upon the cheek. “I’m sure you will have the right of it once we arrive at London for your Season.”
“Oh Mama, no!” cried Nora.
“Tut, tut,” her mother said, forestalling an argument.
Peggy could not imagine why a young lady would not want a Season. At the very least, it was a succession of parties and outings to see the world, but she had no time to express her opinion.
“Oh my!” a deep male voice boomed from the doorway to the parlor. He was an attractive man with greyed hair that was pulled into a ribbon at his neck and a great booming laugh that was not unlike his son’s. “A finer picture of ladies I have never seen. Nash, do you think that beauty in blue and silver has an eye for me?”
Lord Belton poked his head out into the hall, declared that his mother certainly did not, and then returned to the parlor. Peggy could not help but laugh. It was all so unlike anything she had ever witnessed among the gentry.
As she listened to the family banter, it all began to make sense. The apples, it seemed, had not fallen far from the tree, and the affection that was shared between the siblings seemed to run throughout the family. Peggy thought of her own parents who had barely shared a handful of kind words to one another each day. They certainly had not laughed and teased and touched one another in the easy manner in which the Viscount and the Viscountess seemed to do as if by instinct alone. She could never, not once, recall her parents… flirting in so obvious a fashion. If she really thought about it, she did not much think her makers had even liked each other. Theirs had been an arrangement of practicality. This couple, she realized with awe, were truly and undoubtedly in love even after all of these years.
No wonder Miss Nora had refused to give up playfulness for marriage. Her own parents were the prime example that she could have both, if she ever found it. The prospect seemed rare enough, and their daughter had decided never to settle for anything less.
A moment later, the party removed to the dining hall where a feast had been set capable of feeding a number much greater than their five.
“Not to worry, child,” Augusta explained when she saw Peggy frowning at the piles of food. “We intend for there to be plenty left over to nourish the servants and their families.”
Peggy opened her mouth in surprise, and Augusta laughed, the same light sound as Nora’s levity. “My daughter told me about your penchant to eliminate waste,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
Peggy blushed and settled into a chair that was held out for her by Lord Belton. She was surprised to see Lord Umberly hold out the chair at the side of the table for his wife. Rather than observe the protocols of the Viscount and his wife securing opposite heads of the table, the Lord had seated his wife beside Peggy while he took one head and left the other empty. At first, Peggy had wondered at what many would consider an insulting arrangement, but then she saw Lord Umberly grasp his wife’s hand at his side and she realized that they merely wished to be close. Lord Belton seated himself between Peggy and Nora, across from his father. She caught of whiff of his cologne and was immediately entranced. She tried to keep her composure, and yet, she was glad that he was close by. His nearness made a flutter of nervousness fill the pit of her stomach, but in some way the feeling was pleasant. How silly, she thought. Hadn’t they been doing books and talking business all week? Why was she nervous now? Could it be that he looked such the gentleman dressed in his fine clothing?
“What news of the neighborhood?” Lady Umberly asked as she began to pick at the food which had been served to her by the footman.
“Missy Pekering had another baby,” Miss Nora offered without much interest.
“Oh, how nice,” her mother replied. “When are one of you two going to give me a grandchild?”
Peggy nearly spat out the carrot that she had just placed in her mouth, but she covered her surprise with a cough instead.
“Lady Abernathy informs me at least once a week that her son is in need of a bride,” Lord Belton mused. “I’ve decided to offer up Nora, so you may speak to my sister.”
Peggy grunted and gasped as she received a swift kick to the shin.
“Oh! Sorry!” Miss Nora exclaimed. “I thought that was Nash.”
Nash chuckled as Peggy reached down to rub the aching limb only to find another leg shift so as to press up against her own. Her eyes shifted to Lord Belton in question, but he merely blinked innocently. A moment later, his sister cried out in pain as her second attempt at an attack was met by the wood of his chair. Having cleared his own limbs from his sister’s reach, the pressure against Peggy’s leg was removed and she regained her space.
“Honora Rose, you brought that upon yourself,” Lady Umberly scolded. “Do not make a third attempt. If you cannot sit at table with the adults, I shall send you from the table with no supper as I did when you were still in the nursery.”
“Yes, mother,” Miss Nora grumbled.
“Speaking of Lord Abernathy,” her brother continued as if nothing had occurred, “why shouldn’t you marry him, Nora? He adores you.”
“He does not,” Nora spat.
“His property borders ours,” the Viscount said, “and he has grown into a fine gentleman with many accolades. Quite the soldier I am told. Although I believe he has sold his commission now, much to his father’s relief. He is home for good now.”
Miss Nora huffed and crossed her arms. “Lord James Abernathy is the bane of my existence. Has been since I was ten,” She directed her explanation at Peggy who seemed to be the only one at the table who did not know the history. “He was the terror of my childhood and,” she turned to her father and brother in turn, “I don’t care what kind of gentleman he’s grown into. Accolades or no, I wouldn’t have him if he came with a crown.”
“You hardly had the chance to meet with him more than a handful of times in the of years while he has been away,” Lord Belton continued, grinning that his sister had been put so out of sorts by his suggestion. “He’s only been back for a month.”
Jesting or no, Miss Nora would not tolerate the suggestion. “I have met him enough for a lifetime, thank you very much,” his sister replied.
“Ah well,” Lord Belton feigned resignation, “I suppose he will just have to suffer the dozen ladies his mother has invited to catch his eye for the Christmas season. From what he tells me, they will be hosting a Christmas Ball.”
Miss Nora seemed to take sordid pleasure at the news. “Good. He deserves all of them,” she declared.
“Of course, we will be invited,” Lord Belton continued.
“Father said I am to have a Season,” Nora said, looking towards the Viscount. “Perhaps we will still be in London.”
“Not at Christmas, surely,” her mother said.
“Oh, so you have decided to have a Season,” the Viscount added, trapping Nora in the proverbial corner.
“I don’t know,” she said petulantly.
“Well, we do not need to decide right now,” the Viscount said, smoothing his daughter’s ruffled feathers. “There is plenty of time.”
“Speaking of the Christmas season,” Peggy butted in with a change of subject that she hoped would ease her friend’s distress, “I expect the haberdashery will be in full swing in time for everyone to do their holiday shopping.” And with that the conversation turned to matters of business. As promised, the Viscount had innumerable questions that kept the party busy for the duration of the meal.
When they had finished their desserts and Peggy was full near to bursting, Lady Umberly declared that there would be no more talk of anything so gauche as business for the remainder of the evening.
“On the morrow you can visit the store and see for yourself, darling,” she said with a gentle smile for her husband. “Tonight, I would like to enjoy my time with the children.”
Together they retired to an elegant parlor big enough to house dozens and dozens of guests. It was only slightly smaller than a ballroom in Peggy’s estimation.
For an hour, they sat about laughing and reminiscing. Peggy enjoyed hearing tales of happy childhoods so different from her own. She wondered what it would have been like to have grown up in such a place. She wondered if this was what Adam had enjoyed in the Finch house. She must have been lost in her musings since it was not until Lord Belton strolled past her chair and tapped his fountain pen beside her head that she snapped to attention.
“Hmm?”
“I asked if your siblings were as poorly behaved as my children?” Lady Umberly repeated the question with amusement, and Peggy turned her attention to Lord Belton’s mother.
“No, not at all,” Peggy replied without thought. Then, she grimaced as she realized how her words might have landed. “What I mean to say is that I have no siblings. I was a solitary child.”
“I am sure that was wonderful.” The Viscount laughed. “These two were as much trouble as if we had had a dozen.”
“I cannot say that it was,” Peggy answered in all honesty. For the first time, she was not filled with bitterness at the recollection of her upbringing. Sadness, perhaps, but it seemed as if she were somehow slowly learning to let go of those years. It was as if having found herself surrounded by good, happy people these many months since she had regained her freedom, her wounds had begun to heal. Not that they did not exist. It was only that she was beginning to feel less burdened by them. She could not say how. She only knew that she felt a change had taken root, and her new friends had certainly been a part of that healing.
“Either way, you seem to have been brought up in good society,” the Viscountess observed. “You are well spoken, well mannered, and are clearly educated. What other accomplishments can you boast? Do you play?” She gestured to the pianoforte in the corner of the room, and Peggy’s eyes shot to meet Miss Nora’s. She suddenly felt trapped in a world where she did not belong. By some miracle, she might have made a good impression thus far, but she was not prepared to make a fool of herself by plunking away at best at a childish tune. She would need months more practice before she was anywhere near her previous level of skill, and even in her past, she had only considered herself a passable pianist.
She began to shake her head to the negative, but Miss Nora cut in. “She does play, but she is shy in company,” her friend explained. “Why do not I play for you, Mama? I do know how much you love to listen, or perhaps dance,” she whispered for her mother’s ears only. Miss Nora removed herself to the instrument and settled before it. She warmed up her fingers with a few lively pieces before settling in to sultry, romantic number that Peggy recognized but could not name.
Her audience listened with rapt attention as Miss Nora worked her art over them. After a few minutes, as Nora predicted, Lord Umberly stood up and approached his wife with an outstretched hand. Lady Umberly giggled and accepted with a blush as genuine as the first bloom of love. She turned to Peggy with a smile as her husband swept her into his arms.
“You do not mind if we dance, do you?” she asked. “We do love to dance, and Nora plays so beautifully.”
“Not at all,” Peggy assured her hosts and waved them toward the open floor in front of the hearth.
She watched the couple take their spins for ages with a sort of guilty fascination. No, she had never experienced anything quite like the Belton family. Miss Nora swept from one piece to the next with seamless transitions. Her fingers never seemed to tire. On and on the Viscount and his wife danced. The room could have been full or empty and it would not have mattered. They had eyes only for each other. It occurred to Peggy that she had never seen her parents dance with one another, not even at a ball. In fact, she had never seen them dance with anyone. Her father was always off in some corner making deals or introductions to new business prospects. Her mother, on the other hand, had worked the floor with the sole purpose of shunting Peggy off on some gentleman or other. Peggy had never been without a partner, and every moment of it had felt like a chore. Never had she been so enraptured as the Viscountess appeared to be.
A hand appeared before her face and pulled Peggy from her reverie. Her gaze followed the long arm upward, and she was forced to twist her chin to look over her shoulder to find Lord Belton’s face above her own. He had made the gesture from where he stood along the back of the couch in such a casual manner that she had laughed before she thought better of it. She covered her mouth with her hand and apologized for the rude response.
“Now you have to dance with me if only to repair my bruised pride,” he teased with a half grin.
“Is that so?” she replied in challenge.
“Mostly, mother will have my neck if I leave you sitting here without an offer.” He smiled. “If you decline, she shall say I deserved it for my abominable behavior. Please.” He begged as if craving a boon. “You must save me.”
“Then allow me to be your knight in shining armor.” Peggy laughed as she placed her hand in his. “As a guest, I would not want to upset your mother.”
“She’ll think you gave me the cut,” he added for good measure as he pulled her across the room to an open corner well out of earshot of his parents.
“She would not,” Peggy protested. “She would trust my decision absolutely.”
“I am afraid you are right.” He laughed as he pulled her into his arms.