The Waverly Women Series (3-Book Bundle) Read online

  Gratitude to Mrs. Waverley, plus a desire to further her own ends, prompted Lady Artemis to set about encouraging her teacher to go out into the world a little more. Finally, she was rewarded. Mrs. Waverley agreed to attend a performance of Richard III. All young ladies should see Shakespeare performed on the stage, said Lady Artemis, and Mrs. Waverley caved in and told her startled daughters of the treat in store.

  Although she was delighted at the idea of going out to the theater, Fanny could not like the person who had arranged it. She distrusted Lady Artemis and jealousy had sharpened her perceptions so that she felt Lady Artemis was using them all to recapture Lord Tredair’s attention.

  The girls did not have a lady’s maid, Mrs. Waverley feeling that lady’s maids were flighty creatures too interested in men. Fanny dressed herself with great care. The girls were not only to be allowed to go to the theater, but to appear at their best.

  She chose a pale pink gossamer silk gown, ornamented with a narrow gold edging and tied at the front with ribbons of the same color. On her head she wore a headdress composed of white lace and pink satin, ornamented with double rows of pearls. Around her neck she wore a necklace of fine pearls set in gold.

  She wondered feverishly whether the earl would be there and then tried to dismiss him from her mind. She had been rude to him and he probably thought of her, if he thought of her at all, with disgust. He would not be there.

  But the earl, too, was preparing to go to the theater. He had received a note from Lady Artemis that had said, “Do you attend Kean in Richard? If so, I have a marvel to show you that will not be on the stage.”

  “By which,” the earl said cynically to Mr. Fordyce, “she means she has somehow managed to persuade that recluse you saw in the Park and her three girls to go.”

  “Tell me about the recluse,” asked Mr. Fordyce curiously. He had come to accompany his friend to the playhouse. “And I only saw two girls.”

  “Her name is Mrs. Waverley, and she is a staunch supporter of the rights of women. She lives in seclusion in Hanover Square with three adopted daughters. It would appear that Lady Artemis has befriended her. I am only guessing, of course. But I shall be very surprised if Mrs. Waverley is not the promised treat.”

  “By why should Lady Artemis think you would be interested in a recluse with an interest in bluestocking matters?”

  “Lady Artemis took me to a soirée at the Waverley house. I was amused and infuriated. She no doubt thinks I want to be amused and infuriated again. Perhaps she is right.”

  “Are you … em … interested in Lady Artemis?” asked Mr. Fordyce. “She is all that is beautiful and kind.”

  “No, despite the fact that she is beautiful. I doubt whether she is kind.”

  “Then there is hope for me if you are not taken with her,” sighed Mr. Fordyce.

  “Every hope,” said the earl cheerfully.

  “Not with my undistinguished appearance,” mourned Mr. Fordyce. “Oh, that I could look like you for just one evening!” He glanced enviously at his tall friend’s impeccable tailoring and broad-shouldered, slim-hipped muscular figure.

  “Fustian, you look very well,” said the earl. “And you are too good a man for such as Lady Artemis. She is shallow.”

  “I am persuaded you are too hard.”

  “Let us not quarrel. We shall be late if we do not leave now.”

  The earl drew on his gloves and tucked his bicorne under his arm and led the way downstairs.

  ***

  Fanny, Frederica, and Felicity all felt like freaks as they sat in Lady Artemis’s box at the playhouse. Opera glasses, quizzing glasses, and even small telescopes were trained on their box.

  Frederica and Felicity blushed miserably, glancing down at their gowns as if expecting to find something wrong. Lady Artemis lazily fanned herself and smiled all around. The Waverley girls were a sensation.

  It was only when the earl’s tall figure appeared in a box opposite that Lady Artemis felt a good deal of her complacency leaving her. She felt a trifle soiled and, yes, old alongside this dazzling bevy of fresh beauties who sat grouped together like some nosegay with flowerlike complexions and gleaming hair.

  She comforted herself with the thought that such a sophisticated man of the world as the earl would not be intrigued by a parcel of young virgins. She had expected him to be amused and interested, not attracted. But Fanny had kept him at her side that evening, and Fanny’s looks were certainly enough to break hearts. Lady Artemis knew that blondes were not fashionable, but Fanny’s combination of silvery hair and deep blue eyes and black lashes was causing men in the pit to stand up on their benches for a better look.

  To Fanny’s relief when the curtain rose, a hush fell on the house. Edmund Kean as Richard III limped slowly down the stage. He looked up at the boxes with an expression of sly cunning, and then he began. “Now is the winter of our discontent …”

  Fanny, like the rest of the house, was held captive by the great actor. Usually society came to the playhouse to see each other and the only attention they gave the performance was to catcall or throw oranges at the stage. But Kean held them all in the palm of his hand.

  At the first interval the earl and Mr. Fordyce made their way to Lady Artemis’s box. But they had to wait outside until almost the end of the interval, there was such a press of gentlemen anxious to pay their respects to Lady Artemis and to get an introduction to the Waverley girls.

  At last Mr. Fordyce and the earl edged in. Lady Artemis welcomed the earl warmly so that it was left to Mr. Fordyce to talk to the girls. “What do you think of the performance?” he asked.

  Three pairs of glowing eyes looked at him, and three voices competed to tell him how wonderful Kean was. All the girls appeared to know the play by heart. He was rather intimidated by their direct looks and intelligent speech. Not one blushed or fluttered or raised her fan.

  While Fanny talked, she was covertly studying the earl and Lady Artemis. She noticed how Lady Artemis, standing in the box in front of the earl, contrived to make love to him with her body while never touching him. She swayed and undulated as she talked, exclaiming over an imagined rip in her hem so that she could bend over and allow the earl to look down the front of her gown. The enigma that was Mrs. Waverley sat quietly, looking on.

  The next act was about to begin. The earl and Mr. Fordyce excused themselves, promising to call at the second interval.

  Fanny was glad to lose herself again in the play. The earl made her feel upset, hot, and uncomfortable. If this is what men did to your body, then you were better without them.

  The earl and Mr. Fordyce made their way back to Lady Artemis’s box just before the end of the second act. The earl tipped an usher to keep all other callers at bay and entered the box just as the curtain fell. Fanny had not once looked in his direction. He decided to get at her through Mrs. Waverley. Mr. Fordyce was only too eager to speak to Lady Artemis. The earl sat down by Mrs. Waverley, who shied like a horse at the sight of him.

  “I am glad to see you furthering the education of your girls in the proper way,” he said. Mrs. Waverley majestically inclined her head. “And surely you must see no harm will come to them.”

  “I consider Shakespeare to be part of any young woman’s education,” said Mrs. Waverley. “Balls and parties on the other hand have no educational value.”

  “I do so agree,” said the earl earnestly. “You must forgive me if I seemed a trifle sharp the other evening, Mrs. Waverley, but Miss Fanny did provoke me.”

  He cast a sidelong look at Fanny whose blue eyes blazed at him.

  “I accept that Fanny was unusually provoking,” said Mrs. Waverley. “She has been punished.”

  “And can we now hope to see you at other events?”

  “I do not think so,” said Mrs. Waverley. “Everything else at the Season is a sad waste of time and will only encourage vanity in the bosom of my girls.”

  “Not everything,” said the earl. “There is a balloon ascension in two days ti
me. Now, if you have any interest in the sciences, you must admit a balloon ascension is highly educational.”

  “Where is this ascension to take place?” asked Mrs. Waverley.

  “At Islington. Our famous balloonist, Mr. Greene, is to take to the skies. Have you ever attended a balloon ascension?”

  “No. I …”

  “But you must. I insist. Mr. Fordyce and myself can escort you there.”

  “But, I …”

  “Splendid. Mr. Fordyce, we are in luck. Mrs. Waverley and her beautiful charges are to join us in a visit to the balloon ascension.”

  “We shall enjoy that,” said Lady Artemis quickly, although she had not been included in the invitation. “Do wear something warm, ladies. I do not know why it is, but balloon ascensions always seem to take place on the coldest of days.”

  The girls’ eyes were shining with excitement. The three of them had feared that this was to be their one and only outing. Fanny even began to feel a certain gratitude toward Lady Artemis, who had been instrumental in effecting this change.

  “Thank you, but we shall not go,” said Mrs. Waverley heavily.

  “And why not?” demanded Fanny angrily. If this was the outside world of society, then she loved it. She thought of the long days and months and years spent in seclusion and her beautiful eyes filled with tears. “You are always telling us about the wonders of science, about ballooning, about how balloons could be used as a military weapon. And yet you lack the courage to allow us to see such miracles for ourselves.”

  Frederica’s hand stole out to grip Felicity’s.

  “Balloon ascensions attract a great number of the unruly mob,” pointed out Mrs. Waverley, wishing the interval would come to an end.

  “But you will be in my carriage and Mr. Fordyce’s,” pointed out the earl. He took Mrs. Waverley’s gloved hand in his own and smiled into her eyes. “Please say you will come.”

  “Very well,” said Mrs. Waverley weakly. “Just this once.”

  “Bravo! Then we shall call for you at eleven in the morning.”

  The earl rose and bowed to everyone and left the box with Mr. Fordyce. The third act began, but the earl’s thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking of Fanny and how when her eyes had filled with tears, he had longed to take her in his arms. This yearning, protective feeling was new to him. He was sure that if he got to know Fanny very well, then he would find her boring. By the end of the play he had convinced himself this was the case and regretted his impulse to escort the Waverley ladies.

  That night, Fanny tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Excitement gripped her like a fever. She felt she could hardly wait until the balloon ascension to see the proper outside world again. She would not admit to herself she could hardly wait to see Lord Tredair again. “If only I had something amusing to read, like Felicity’s romance,” she thought. Then she began to wonder where on earth Felicity had got that romance.

  She got out of bed and went to Felicity’s room and pushed open the door. Felicity was lying in bed reading. She had had her bedside oil lamp specially deepened by the tinman so that it would burn all night.

  Fanny sat on the end of Felicity’s bed. “How did you come by that romance?” she asked.

  Felicity put down her book and looked at Fanny impatiently. “I went and bought it.”

  “But how? We are not allowed out.”

  “Well, don’t tell anyone. You know after our daily promenade that Mrs. Waverley goes for a nap. I simply went out and along to Hatchard’s in Piccadilly and bought one.”

  “But the women servants are told to stop us from leaving!”

  “Stoopid. I go down to the library and let myself out through the window and drop down into the garden. Then I climb over the wall at the side and through the garden of the house adjoining—no one lives there at the moment—and that house has a path around the side to the area steps.”

  “But we are not allowed any pin money.”

  “We are allowed a great deal of fine jewelry,” said Felicity. “I simply take a little piece from my box, or prize out a jewel and take it to the pawnbroker in Oxford Street.”

  “That’s stealing,” said Fanny, appalled.

  “Not really. She don’t miss it and it stops me from going mad.”

  “Frederica is surely not a party to this?”

  “Oh, yes. She escapes one day and I escape the other.”

  “Good gracious,” said Fanny weakly. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “You’re always so hoity-toity. We thought you’d tell.”

  “I tell? It is you and Frederica who are always telling on each other.”

  “We keep important things secret.”

  Fanny looked at Felicity in distress. “But all our principles, all our ideas.”

  “They’re Mrs. Waverley’s principles and ideas,” said Felicity. “She’s a great teacher, I’ll grant you that. I like being able to read the classics in the original Greek and Latin, but I also like to read something light and frivolous from time to time to take my mind off the boredom of my existence. Mind you, I don’t believe any of this romantic stuff and nonsense. Mrs. Waverley is right. It is a man’s world and women are little better than slaves. I just don’t like the way she keeps us imprisoned. I mean, you support her ideas, too, don’t you Fanny?”

  “Of course!”

  “Not getting a leetle spoony about the handsome earl?”

  “Don’t be cheeky or I’ll punch your head,” said Fanny, her color rising.

  “Just try,” grinned Felicity. “Oh, don’t look daggers at me. I’ll have a word with Freddy and tell her you can have tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know whether I will be able to find the courage,” said Fanny weakly. “Does one just go into the pawnbroker and hand over a jewel?”

  “His name is Friendly, a Quaker; a good name for a pawnbroker and a Quaker, don’t you think? He believes me to be a servant girl, pawning jewels for my mistress. Her fictitious name is Lady Tremblant. I suggest you use it. After all, those usual ghastly duds we are dressed in for our walks are like servants’ clothes.”

  The next day Felicity went straight to her jewel box after their walk around the square. To her relief, Lady Artemis had not joined them. Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glinted up at her. How much would a book cost? She selected a small diamond pin and tucked it inside the neck of her gown and then went down to the drawing room. She felt very tired and half inclined to forget about going ahead with the escapade. Their lessons were given to them by Mrs. Waverley at ten o’clock each morning. Felicity looked grumpy having had less sleep than Fanny, but Frederica was excited that the eldest of them, the golden Fanny, was about to behave just as badly.

  They took her down to the library on the ground floor and helped her through the window and watched her jump down to the weedy garden below that was on a level with the basement. The servants were taking tea in their hall at the front of the basement and so there was no danger of being discovered. Fanny turned and waved. The girls pointed to an upturned water barrel against the wall, and she climbed up on it and pulled herself to the top of the wall. There was a plank leaning on the other side, and she slid down it and made her way quickly around the side of the empty neighboring house and up the area steps.

  At first it seemed terrifying to be out on her own. Oxford Street was crammed with passersby and carriages of every description. Then it dawned on her that everyone was too busy to look at a drably dressed female in a voluminous cloak and depressing hat.

  The pawnbroker’s three golden balls glinted in the pale sunlight. She pushed open the door and went into the musty interior, which smelled of fried bacon and old clothes.

  Barely daring to look at the man behind the counter, she handed over the diamond pin and murmured that her mistress, Lady Tremblant, was in need of more money. “Five pounds,” said the pawnbroker, beginning to write out a ticket. Fanny looked at him for the first time. He was bent and shabby with a cruel acquisitive look li
ke a bird of prey.

  “Nonsense, you scoundrel,” said Fanny haughtily. “Give it back to me immediately. Thirty pounds and nothing less!”

  Fanny did not know that both Frederica and Felicity had affected common accents when they pawned their jewels. The pawnbroker looked at that haughty stare and flashing eyes and came to the conclusion that this must be Lady Tremblant in person. He held the pin up to the light and the diamond flashed fire. It was a fine stone, and he had no wish to offend an aristocratic patron. The stone was worth much, much more than thirty and this Lady Tremblant never redeemed her jewels.

  “Did I say five, my lady? I am sorry. I meant thirty-five.”

  “Good,” said Fanny icily. “Now give me my ticket.” She had every intention of trying to redeem the jewel, although where she was going to get the money, she was not quite sure.

  She left the shop and took a deep breath. Thirty-five pounds! A fortune. She was not sure how to get to Hatchard’s, or for that matter, Piccadilly, and had to stop and ask the way.

  In the bookshop she bought two three volume romances, which she put into her huge reticule. Now for home.

  But the sun was shining and the crowds looked so jolly and happy. Fanny had always wanted to go to the Park at the fashionable hour and see all the fine folk. She glanced down at the watch pinned to her bosom. Four-thirty. She had been away from home for more than two hours!

  Perhaps if she made a circular detour home, along Piccadilly, up Park Lane, and along through Grosvenor Square and Brook Street, she could maybe catch a glimpse of society at play.

  Almost despite herself, her steps took her into the Park and soon she was standing at the edge of the Ring, watching the light-glittering carriages darting past like dragonflies. She was about to turn away when she saw Lord Tredair. She half raised her hand in salute and then let it drop to her side. For he did not see her. He was riding a coal black stallion, and he had reined in beside a carriage containing two beautiful ladies. They were smiling up at him and he looked delighted to see them.