'I fear we are blocking the pavement, Rache,' Algernon said, offering her his arm. 'Which milliner did you wish to visit? And how could you possibly need more bonnets? I have not seen you in the same one twice all spring. That particular one is very fetching, by the way.'
'Thank you,' she said. 'Imagine how lowering it would be, Algie, to go through a whole Season with the same bonnets as one started with. That is a splendid cane. Is it new?'
David smiled warmly at Miss Barnes and took her arm within his.
***
Lady Rachel Palmer had been enjoying her first Season. She was nineteen years old, quite horrifyingly old to be making her come-out, in her opinion. However, she was glad enough to be in London even at that late date, considering the contempt in which her father held all that pertained to city life. Her mama had finally persuaded him that he must sacrifice his personal interests for the sake of his daughter.
'How is Rachel to have any choice of husband, Edgeley,' she had said before winter even set in, 'if she is never to meet anyone but Algernon? I will be perfectly delighted if she does marry him eventually, you know. But I would hate to see her do so just because she has never been presented with any alternative.'
The Earl of Edgeley had grumbled and sulked all through the winter and had kept his women feeling almost as if they lived on tiptoe and with bated breath. But finally in February he had announced that he had rented a grand house in Grosvenor Square and that they might as well use it for a few months as leave it stand empty.
Her papa had grumbled every day since their arrival about the noises, the smells, the absence of open spaces where one might breathe comfortably, and a hundred and one other grievances. But Rachel did not care. She had taken with the ton immediately,, had been granted vouchers for Almack's within two weeks of their arrival, had at least four invitations among which to choose for each evening's entertainment, and had been granted permission to waltz three weeks and two days after they set foot in London. -
She had become the rage. No one had ever spoken this aloud in her hearing, and she had certainly never said it. She always felt a little guilty even thinking it, since the thought suggested some conceit. But she did think it nonetheless, and with great satisfaction when she was not feeling guilty. She had never once had to face the embarrassment of an empty space on her dance card, or a supper waiting and no escort to take her in, or a bright afternoon and no one to drive her to the park. Quite the contrary, in fact. She frequently had to disappoint those gentlemen who were in the habit of arriving fashionably late at an entertainment.
She had even had two marriage proposals, both from young men who had very improperly pressed their suit on her without first consulting her papa. Had they done the proper thing, of course, they would not have spoken to her at all, because Papa would have asked her, and she would have told him that one of the young men was a fortune hunter and the other a bore.
Rachel had come to London intent on marrying Algie one day. She loved Algie-she always had. She had even hero-worshiped him for a number of years when his ten-year seniority over her had made him appear gloriously adult and male. She still did think him rather glorious, in fact. He was not handsome, actually. His very prominent nose and light brown curls, which never looked quite fashionable even when combed to look intentionally disheveled, had destroyed that possibility. But he was a striking and a good-looking man, nevertheless. He had always had an almost exaggeratedly upright bearing that appeared to give his chest extra breadth and to add to his height, which in reality was scarcely above the average.
There was an air about Algie. People who did not know him well thought him pompous. They also tended to stand in awe of him. In town, Algie took great delight in being quite up to the minute in fashion. The height of his shirt points and the intricacy of his neckcloths during this particular spring were truly awesome. Rachel had not seen him during any other spring, of course, but she had heard that he always liked to follow the newest trends.
She had felt quite contented at the thought of being his wife someday. Sometime in the future. There was no hurry. Indeed, there was no formal understanding between them, though it was generally assumed in their neighborhood that they would eventually marry. But she had also come to London with an open mind. A girl was young only once. She had no burning desire to become betrothed before she had had a chance to sample some of the joys of life as a carefree young lady. And certainly no desire to be married just yet. She was quite ready to look around her at all the handsome and dashing young sprigs who abounded during the Season as much as did sprightly, fashionable young ladies like herself.
The Season had presented a dizzying number of activities. Rachel could not remember when she had last had an hour in which to do nothing but relax. She could also not remember an evening in which she had been in bed before midnight, except for Sundays, of course, when Papa would allow nothing more than church-going, quiet family walks or drives, and evenings devoted to reading aloud to one another from some edifying book, usually the Bible. Even in London that pattern was not to change, as Rachel had learned with a sigh of resignation within one week of their arrival in town.
Mornings, of course, could be a time of relaxation. Almost all her friends did not even rise until noon each day and were horrified to learn that Rachel was invariably up for breakfast and some vigorous morning exercise. But it was not in Rachel's nature to be idle. Sometimes she felt almost as if some demon drove her, though whether it drove her toward some goal or away from a contemplation of her own thoughts, she was not at all sure. She only knew that the pleasures of town, which had so delighted her for weeks, threatened to be not enough to distract her very restless mind.
She was very thankful for the presence of Celia, a dear friend from school days whom Papa had permitted her to invite to stay with them during the Season and even to return with them to the country afterward. Celia was a quiet and placid young lady. It had always been a matter of puzzlement to their school friends, and indeed to the girls themselves, just why they loved each other so dearly. It must simply be a classic case of the attraction of opposites, they concluded.
Celia had a calming influence on Rachel. She perhaps prevented her friend's activities during the Season from becoming too frenzied. For her part, Rachel tried to draw Celia out of a shell of quiet, always decorous behavior. Celia had been brought up in a strict household, where money was scarce and careful management a prime virtue. She found it hard to relax and enjoy herself. Rachel had set herself to seeing that her friend dressed becomingly and met eligible gentlemen. Left to herself, Celia did not have good taste in clothes, favoring safe pastel shades that did nothing for her rather pale hair and complexion.
Celia did sometimes find it difficult to keep up with the energy of her friend. On rare occasions she had refused outright to join an outing. But usually she would exert herself to follow wherever Rachel wished to lead, knowing that in the mornings at least her friend had little choice of companion. Lady Edgeley did not indulge in morning outings.
On this particular morning Celia had protested that there was absolutely nothing she needed to purchase, and even Rachel had admitted that she could do little more than look, since she had already overspent her allowance once and Papa would be in a rage if she asked him for a second advance on her next month's pin money. But go to Bond Street they must. No one interesting ever went to the park in the morning, and if they stayed at home, what would they do to fill in the empty hours until luncheon time? Celia had protested no further, but had gone in search of their pelisses while Rachel ordered the carriage to be sent around.
And so they had met Algie, as Rachel had been secretly hoping they would. She simply had to make certain that he would be at the Simpson ball that night, since he was the only gentleman of her acquaintance who really knew how to waltz. Algie twirled her and twirled her until she was dizzy. She always loved the sensation of being utterly dependent for support on the shoulder beneath one hand and the large masculine hand that clasped her other. She had forgotten to ask him two evenings before at the Ripleys' soiree if he were to attend the ball.
But Algie had not been alone. Rachel had hardly noticed his companion at first, so delighted was she to see the familiar, imposing figure of her neighbor and friend. But then she did look at the other man, and a strange thing happened. Nothing like it had ever happened to Rachel before. She had never expected or looked for such a thing. She was a very sensible young lady who enjoyed the adoration of men and who was contemplating marriage at some future date with someone of suitable rank and fortune.
She fell in love with Algie's companion.
That was an absurd way to describe her reactions, of course, she told herself later in the carriage. She did not believe in falling in love. That was for those giddy girls who always stood in groups in the ballroom, giggling behind their fans and ogling the more handsome men, who almost invariably paid them the compliment of ignoring them. And to speak of falling in love with a man whom one had just that moment set one's eyes upon for the first
