Affair of Pretense

Nineteen

The aftermath of Lady Lillian's ball had brought an influx of young gentlemen with their cards and posies to her door for the next few days. She had been particularly pleased with herself that no untoward incident had happened to mar that special occasion, except, perhaps, to have been the recipient of mild censures by the older and conservative set on the account of playing the waltz. In her defence, she thought that there was not a mite of harm in it, and with Denver singling out his cousin for such dance; why, she would have been even more shocked had he chosen a different young woman instead! Furthermore, Lady Lillian would like to think that she was, in a way, liberal in her own private parties, and having allowed such segment in her programme would dismiss, in the younger minds, any thought of her as being stuffy or strait-laced. To be sure, the younger guests at the ball were secretly thrilled by it, especially her children, who congratulated their Mama for being a bang-up hostess.

A few suitors already claimed that their hearts had been irrevocably enslaved by the Misses Dresdenham and Devilliers, and although her outspoken son (Collin) only dismissed these professions of love as pitching the gammon and hope that he knew Cousin Georgie enough to not be easily bamboozled with a bag of moonshine, her ladyship had allowed herself into thinking that it wouldn't be long until someone might come up with an offer. She could not help but feel, despite Denver's objections, that it was of utmost expedience that they should find a husband for Georgie soon, on the account of her turning twenty this year.

This, of course, would bring the subject of who was the most eligible among the list of suitors. Lord Fumley, although very plump in the pockets, was certainly out of question; and Lord Leathlow, the exact opposite of Fumley in terms of fortune, was not to be considered desirable; two more gentlemen whose airs were quite distinguished, but sadly did not quite make an impression on Georgie, had to be dropped off the list. This put Lady Lillian in a bit of quandary, but not for long, for the very next day brought to her door Mr Philip Lanley.

A riot of dark curls deliberately styled to emulate the romantic dishevelled look, and a pair of deep-set brown eyes, large and dreamy, adorned with thick curly lashes were certainly a few of his many prepossessing features. The prominent mole on the corner of his left under-eye lent him the distinction of a countenance nobody could likely forget, for it looked simply endearing. His figure was willowy, his manners agreeable, and his air was certainly distinguished, and lineage quite noble, having born into a family of numerous dukes and earls.

Lady Lillian and Georgie received him in the sunny drawing-room at tea time. Since he had arrayed himself in an ivory-hued coat, a flower-printed waistcoat accented with the vivid shades of green, yellow and pink, and yellow pantaloons, all of which a good indication that he belonged to what the dandy set would call the 'Pinkest of the Pink', the object of his visit thought he complimented the numerous bouquets that adorned her ladyship's drawing-room.

"Do forgive me, ma'am, if I disturb your tea: I have come to personally convey my sincerest apologies of not being able to attend your party last night," the gentleman said in a dulcetly quiet voice, bending over her hand.

"Oh, not at all! Please, would you join us? There are some scones and cakes to be had, if you fancy it," assured her ladyship, smiling back at him and beckoning him to a chair.

His gaze instantly fell on Georgie, who by this time put her book down and was staring at his raiment in rapt curiosity. Her ladyship glanced back and forth, and said, as if an afterthought, "Oh! I have not yet introduced my niece, have I? Mr Lanley, this is Miss Devilliers and she is staying with us for the rest of the Season. Georgie, my love, this is Mr Philip Lanley, Lady Dawson's nephew."

Miss Devilliers stood up and curtsied but was inwardly perplexed. Her ladyship had omitted to mention about Lady Dawson's nephew paying them a call that afternoon. There were a few who called earlier in the day, but she took little to no pleasure in their company except that of Mr Harry Reeveston, who brought her a nosegay and declared, with his usual diffidence, that last night was superb and although it was a pity that he did not dance (for he was quite abominable at it, he admitted somewhat ruefully) he had obtained a satisfying entertainment at watching her performance. He had also commended the Marquis' waltzing, but it did not come as a surprise to him: Lord Denver struck him as someone who was capable of just about anything in various societal extravaganzas.