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   “Vanity is not confined to women,” said Fanny. “Nature has given to man a penetration to discover when he is agreeable to woman, but vanity will not suffer him to discover when he ceases to be so. Men have much more steadiness in hiding their vanity—that is all. Come, sir, I believe any Bond Street fribble could outdo any woman in vanity.”
   The earl glared at her. “You are nothing more than one of those females who dislike men.”
   Fanny laughed. “I have had little opportunity in my life to date to have any acquaintance with men. Only you, my lord, and you must allow me the liberty to dislike or like you as it suits me.”
   “I could not have such a conversation with a man,” pointed out the earl.
   “Of course, you couldn’t,” said Fanny. “Any social equal of yours being patronized in such a way would soon call you out.”
   “I am tired,” said the earl abruptly. “I am going to sleep.”
   He closed his eyes.
   Fanny glared at him. “Coward,” she said. But the earl did seem to fall asleep very promptly, leaving Fanny to her thoughts. Those thoughts turned homeward. She hoped the girls and Mrs. Waverley had received the news that she was safe.
   They had not.
   The mayor’s messengers had ridden to the earl’s town house and had given the news to his servants, but had not called on Mrs. Waverley, assuming that Lord Tredair’s household would let that lady know.
   Frederica and Felicity cried and cried. Frederica said, between sobs, that she was going to hang herself. She had murdered Fanny, and Felicity did not help by crying and agreeing with every word.
   Mrs. Waverly sat by the window of the drawing room, her Bible on her lap, looking down into the street. She had remained there the previous night and was still there on the following day.
   The candles and lamps had not been lighted, and the house was full of shadows when Frederica followed by Felicity came in and threw herself at Mrs. Waverley’s feet.
   “Now, child,” said Mrs. Waverley quietly, “you must not give way. There is still hope.”
   “There is something I have to confess,” sobbed Frederica.
   There came the sounds of a carriage rattling over the road outside. Mrs. Waverley held up her hand.
   “It is of no use. She will not come back,” wailed Frederica. Mrs. Waverley threw up the window and then held tightly onto the sill.
   “It’s Fanny,” she said. “Oh, dear Fanny,” and moving with remarkable speed for so heavy a woman, she rushed downstairs.
   Across the square Lady Artemis was entertaining Mr. Fordyce. She was dressed becomingly in transparent black muslin. Mr. Fordyce was holding her hand. “Do not cry, dear Lady Artemis,” he said. “I cannot be persuaded that Tredair is dead. Amazingly powerful fellow.”
   “It is my fault,” said Lady Artemis, who was sitting close beside Mr. Fordyce on the sofa. “I should never have introduced him to those Waverley women.” And her head dropped until it rested on Mr. Fordyce’s shoulder.
   “It was not your fault,” said Mr. Fordyce, patting her back and longing for the courage to kiss her. “Some ruffian cut the ropes of the balloon.”
   “Oh, thank you for being so kind,” breathed Lady Artemis, turning a tear-stained face up to his. Her mouth quivered. Demme, I am going to kiss her, thought Mr. Fordyce. He leaned forward. There came the sound of shrill exclamations and shouts from the square. Lady Artemis ran to the window so suddenly and neatly that he nearly fell on his face.
   “It is Tredair!” she cried. “He is safe!”
   The earl helped Fanny out of the carriage and stood smiling as Fanny was kissed and hugged by Frederica and Felicity. He gave Mrs. Waverley a brief outline of their adventures, refused any offers of refreshment, but said he would call soon to make sure Miss Fanny had not suffered from her experiences.
   He was turning away to get back into the carriage when Lady Artemis came rushing up, hair tumbled and eyes shining. She threw herself against the earl’s chest, crying, “Oh, thank God you are safe. My hero.”
   The earl’s green eyes flashed a wicked look at Fanny over Lady Artemis’s head, then he gently detached himself.
   Mrs. Waverly and the girls bore Fanny off into the house. Fanny felt exhausted and depressed. Of course, that sort of silly gushing female was just what men liked.
   She pulled herself together and over the tea tray told the girls and Mrs. Waverley all about her adventures.
   “You are a credit to my training,” said Mrs. Waverley. “His lordship must admire your stamina and courage.”
   “I think Lord Tredair would have liked me better if I had screamed and fainted,” said Fanny tartly.
   She gradually felt more peaceful. The house was warm and secure. For the first time she began to look forward to the monotony of her days—days free from upsetting and disturbing men.
   She was about to rise and go upstairs to her bedchamber when Mrs. Ricketts, the housekeeper, appeared. “Now that Miss Fanny is safe, mum,” said the housekeeper, “would you like me to go ahead with the inventory tomorrow?”
   “Yes, Ricketts,” said Mrs. Waverley. She smiled at the girls. “We are about to expand our horizons. I feel Lady Artemis has the right of it. There are many women in society who would benefit from our experience. To that end, we shall be entertaining a wider circle. Now, we all have very valuable jewels and it is a sad fact that there are thieves even amongst the highest ranks of society. Have all your jewelry ready for inspection tomorrow. Ricketts will make a note of it and bring it to me. A little precaution, that is all. I am sure I could produce a list from my head. Off to bed, girls. You are all quite white with excitement.”
   The three Waverley girls went upstairs and by unspoken accord went into Fanny’s bedchamber and shut the door behind them.
   “What are we going to do?” said Frederica. “Will we never be at peace again? First I think I am a murderess, then …”
   “A murderess!” exclaimed Fanny. “You cut those ropes! You tried to get me killed. But why?”
   “I didn’t try to kill you,” said Frederica sulkily. “Felicity and I thought you were betraying us by getting spoony over Tredair, and we thought it would be fun to tip you out of the basket.”
   “I am not in love with Lord Tredair!” howled Fanny.
   They all began to shout at once, accusing and protesting. They were so busy arguing, they did not hear the door open. The next thing they knew, Mrs. Waverley had crashed into the room and was standing over them, glaring.
   “If you behave like naughty children, then you will be treated as such,” said Mrs. Waverley furiously. “To your beds immediately. Bread and water tomorrow and stay in your rooms!”
   Later that night Fanny lay awake, still furious with Felicity and Frederica, but wishing she had not been part of such a noisy row.
   The door creaked open and Felicity and Frederica crept in.
   “Truce,” said Frederica, holding up her hand. “What are we going to do about these jewels?”
   “You see,” said Felicity urgently, “if she finds out they are missing, then she may blame the servants and that would be awful.”
   “Did you never redeem any of them?” asked Fanny.
   The two girls dismally shook their heads.
   “There is only one thing we can do,” said Fanny slowly. “We must wait until Ricketts completes the inventory, then we must take some more of the jewels and redeem the other ones and then pretend to find them, and then somehow we are going to have to raise money to get those jewels back, don’t you see? It was wicked of us after all Mrs. Waverley’s kindness. Do you think, perhaps, our parents were thieves? How odd that none of us know our parents. How odd to think they may have died on the gallows.”
   “But how are we to get out tomorrow?” asked Felicity. “We are confined to our rooms.”
   “Mrs. Waverley never comes near us when we are in disgrace,” said Fanny. “I can contrive to escape. Now, what jewels have you pawned and have you the tickets?”
   “We have t
he tickets,” said Felicity. “We only started about a month ago so there isn’t much—a pearl brooch, a garnet necklace, and an amethyst bracelet.”
   “I pawned a diamond pin,” said Fanny, “and I have enough money left to redeem those items. I need only take one thing to redeem the diamond pin.”
   They plotted and planned until far into the night.
   ***
   Everything went according to plan. The minute Ricketts had completed the inventory, Fanny slipped from the house by way of the library window. She carried in her reticule the pawn tickets and a fine diamond brooch. The pawnbroker was furious. He had been about to sell the items, confident that the mysterious “Lady Tremblant” would never redeem them. But the diamond brooch she was offering was a choice item, and this time she seemed to be prepared to accept only the same amount she had received for the diamond pin.
   Fanny took the redeemed items and fled back. She found someone had removed the plank from the wall of the neighboring house. She had no time to wonder who would do such a thing. She flung herself at the wall and scrabbled up it with such energy that she shot over the top and landed heavily on the other side, not on the rain barrel, but in a clump of bushes beside it.
   Once back inside the house, she gave the girls the items and all hid them in unexpected places. Then one by one they summoned Ricketts to explain their “finds.” The items were duly added to the inventory that was shown to Mrs. Waverley who declared it complete.
   With a sigh of relief the Waverley girls settled down to the confinement of their rooms and munched dry bread and drank water, all that they were to be allowed.
   Downstairs, Mrs. Waverley read all the newspapers for about the third time.
   All carried exciting accounts of the balloon adventure of Miss Fanny Waverley and Lord Tredair. The authorities were still hunting for the ruffian who had sliced the ropes.
   One paper referred to Fanny as a “golden goddess descending from heaven.” Mrs. Waverley’s heart swelled with pride. How clever her three girls were. How very beautiful and perfect and so full of grace. Everyone would want to meet Fanny. For a moment Mrs. Waverley’s pleasure was dimmed at the thought of letting intrusive society into the safety of her home. But it was unthinkable that such a triumph should go uncelebrated. Of course, if Fanny had formed a tendre for Lord Tredair, that would be awkward. Fanny must be brought to realize she had no hopes in that direction. An earl would not marry a girl from the orphanage who did not know the identity of her parents. And he would surely find out, because if there was even the hint of a marriage, his family and lawyers would ferret out Fanny’s background. “And my own!” thought Mrs. Waverley in sudden dismay.
   A little taste of the world for the girls and then they must retire back into their usual seclusion and be persuaded to give up any dreams of marriage.
   A downstairs maid, Betty, announced the arrival of the Earl of Tredair. Mrs. Waverley at first decided to tell him the girls were confined to their rooms and then just as he entered, thought better of it. The girls were not expecting to be allowed out of their rooms and would be in their oldest clothes.
   She waited until the earl was seated and murmuring an apology went out onto the landing and told Betty to bring the young misses down to the drawing room, but not to tell them there was a visitor.
   Fanny, Felicity, and Frederica were relieved when they got the summons. Mrs. Waverley must have forgiven them. The three were wearing loose drab gowns, the ones they wore under their cloaks when they went out walking.
   The earl was standing by the fireplace as they entered. He found it very hard not to stare at Fanny. He had thought of her frequently as she had looked in that naughty, flimsy gown with her gold hair spilling about her shoulders. That gold hair was now screwed up on top of her head in a hard knot, and she and the other two girls looked like schoolgirls from one of the less expensive Bath seminaries.
   “My dear Miss Fanny,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the air somewhere above it, “what has happened to you? You appear somewhat distrait.”
   “It must be the effect of my adventures. I am not made of iron, my lord,” said Fanny, tugging her hand away and averting her face.
   “And you have twigs in your hair.”
   “It’s a very interesting fashion, my lord,” said Frederica desperately. She and Felicity had heard of Fanny’s fall into the bush and had been trying to help her get the twigs and leaves out when they were summoned. “We read about a new way of curling the hair by twisting it around twigs. We were trying it out on Fanny when we were summoned here, and I am afraid we had not time to get them all out. Is that not so, Felicity?”
   “Oh, definitely,” agreed that young lady cheerfully.
   “Lady Artemis Verity,” announced Mrs. Ricketts dolefully. Lady Artemis came tripping in, wrapped in a cloud of scent and gauze shawls. She affected a start of surprise when she saw the earl, but in fact had espied his arrival at the Waverleys through her telescope.
   She curtsied to Mrs. Waverley and then turned to Fanny, her eyes widening in delight when she saw the drabness of her appearance.
   A look of hellish, glee in his eyes, the earl said to Fanny, “You must explain to Lady Artemis this exciting fashion of wearing twigs in the hair.”
   Frederica weighed into the rescue again. “Yes, ’tis a most novel idea, Lady Artemis. I believe the women of the Indian tribes in Virginia use such a method. I …”
   “I fear my silly girls are talking rubbish,” interrupted Mrs. Waverley. “Life is so difficult sometimes trying to keep them in order. They are little more than schoolgirls and behave as such. I found them shouting and screaming at each other last night and had to punish the naughty little things by keeping them locked in their rooms.”
   Lady Artemis let out a little trill of laughter. Fanny looked at the elegance of her gown, the beauty of her clear complexion, the sophisticated and seductive movements of her body, and decided all in that moment she hated Lady Artemis with a passion.
   She also felt a stab of hate for Mrs. Waverley. She was deliberately going out of her way to make them appear like spoiled schoolgirls in front of the earl. In the past Mrs. Waverley had always seemed amused by their quarrels, often, Fanny now realized with a sense of shock, going out of her way to set one against the other. Her soft lips formed into a hard line.
   “I fear you must find us very badly brought up, Lady Artemis. But, as you know, we have not been allowed to go in the company of civilized people.” Mrs. Waverley glared and bridled.
   “But that is why I have come,” cried Lady Artemis. “I am giving a little party for a few friends, all of them agog to meet the … er … beautiful Miss Fanny and hear of her adventures. You, too, must attend, my lord. An impromptu affair tomorrow night, for as you know we were all to attend the Petersham’s rout, and they have cried off at the very last moment, Mrs. Petersham having the migraine.”
   The earl did not want to attend. London had again lost all interest for him. He wanted to return to the peace of the country. But he could not quite think how to refuse, so he bowed and said he would be charmed. Mrs. Waverley, furious with Fanny, decided to accept. Fanny deserved to be humiliated further for having told Lady Artemis her upbringing had been somewhat short of the best.
   The earl took his leave. Lady Artemis left with him. She looked quite radiant. “What frumpy gowns those poor girls do insist on wearing,” she said, smiling up into the earl’s eyes.
   “They have great intelligence and animation,” he said, feeling defensive and wondering why at the same time, “and are suffering from their odd teaching.”
   The smile left Lady Artemis’s face. “May I persuade you to take tea with me, my lord?”
   “Your servant, ma’am,” he said, bowing low, “but I have a pressing engagement.”
   He raised his hat and walked away, oblivious to the pout on Lady Artemis’s lips.
   Chapter Five
   Fanny called the girls into her room that evening. She was shocked and worried. Mrs. Wa
verley had taught them to be proud of their intelligence and looks. Now they had all been exposed as badly behaved and spoiled creatures with neither breeding nor wit.
   “What do you want to see us about?” asked Frederica.
   “I am ashamed of us all,” said Fanny in a low voice. “What a sorry threesome Mrs. Waverley contrived to make us look today!”
   “Oh, that,” shrugged Felicity. “You are just mad because your handsome lord saw you looking drab and obviously prefers the charms of Lady Artemis.”
   For one brief moment Fanny felt like shouting at her sisters again.
   “I am angry because I feel we have been manipulated into disliking each other by Mrs. Waverley,” she said.
   “We scrap and row but we don’t hate each other, do we?” asked Frederica.
   “There were times when I hated you,” said Fanny in a low voice.
   “Why?”
   “You told Mrs. Waverley that my looks were blousy and insipid, that my coloring made me look like a milkmaid.”
   “I never did!” gasped Frederica.
   “And you, Felicity, you said to Mrs. Waverley that I was possessed of a good memory, but had no real intelligence.”
   “Never!”
   “And a score of other nasty things,” pursued Fanny.
   “But you told her you often thought my parents must have been gypsies,” exclaimed Frederica. “You told Mrs. Waverley there was a certain peasant wildness about me.”
   “And that time I got up in the night and stole that cake from the kitchen,” said Felicity. “I shared it with you, Fanny, and yet you went and told her about it the very next morning.”
   “On my oath, I never said or did any of those things,” said Fanny. “Don’t you see what has been happening? I felt bound close to Mrs. Waverley, for I felt I could not confide in you or trust you. I felt you were being nice to my face and saying awful things about me behind my back.”
   “If this is true,” said Frederica slowly, “then Mrs. Waverley is a very wicked woman.”
   “No, not wicked,” said Fanny. “I think she is a coward. She seems frightened to go out of the house. Only look at our strange life. Who is Mrs. Waverley? Have you thought of that? Who was Mr. Waverley? Where does the money come from?”
   

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