Author's Note: Please forgive my tardiness in posting this chapter. I wanted to post it at the same time as 11, but 11 is proving difficult to write as I have no Beta to bounce ideas off of. I know what I want to happen in the chapter so I daresay it will resolve itself in time (I plan to be done within the week), but I didn't want you to have to wait any longer for this chapter. It is a little shorter than previous chapters, but it sets up many important things so I hope you enjoy it!
At this point I simply must thank Paisley, MissT, Colleen-Marie and nightkate for their wonderfully detailed feedback and continued support! Whenever I get stuck, I just imagine you waiting for the next chapter and the image inspires me. P.S. nightkate, this Cressida is for you!
The Lieutenant and the Lady
Chapter Ten
An Ideal World
"Evie, child, where is your necklace?" Lady Fanshaw's question broke the silence that typically surrounded a dinner en famille in their household.
Surprised, Evie dropped her fork. The clatter it made on her plate seemed disproportionately loud, echoing in the large, nearly empty room. Despite the fact that there were only three people present, her mother always insisted upon using the formal dining room rather than the breakfast parlor.
"I beg your pardon?" Evie responded, hoping her mother would repeat herself and therefore give her more time to come up with some plausible answer. The truth was out of the question, of course, as the truth was she had been forced to give it to Cressida before the horrid girl left earlier in the afternoon.
The thought of it still made her blood boil. She wasn't upset about the necklace, precisely, though she would miss the dainty gold chain with its small garnet heart. No, her anger was self-directed as she remembered the meekness with which she had submitted to Cressida's demand. But what choice had she had? None, of course, as Cressida well knew.
She had waylaid Evie when she'd least expected it, as she was watching Lieutenant Mowett's carriage trundle away down the cobblestone street, Mr. Pullings sequestered with his friend inside of it. Watching them leave, she'd been too preoccupied with her feelings of regret and relief to notice Cressida sidling up next to her. Even as she'd contemplated the strange perverseness in her character that had caused her to spend the entire afternoon At Home conversing with Mr. Mowett while attempting to ignore Mr. Pullings, Miss Newton had interrupted her thoughts.
"As often as I castigate you for your looks," she'd begun, sky blue eyes examining said looks with pronounced distaste before adding "-and please do not mistake me, they are simply atrocious- your real problem is that you are completely incompetent." Her perfect cupid's bow mouth quirked in secret amusement as she'd looked over Evie's shoulder.
Evie had responded by turning away from the window with a glare. "Are you still here?" she'd demanded, secure in her rudeness as her mother was on the far end of the sitting room.
"Manners, Lady Evelyn," Cressida had reprimanded lazily. "I suspect it must be the most amusing thing in the world, watching the two of you watch each other. He stares at you a great deal, you know, though I cannot imagine why. Remembering last night, perhaps, and laughing to himself."
At this remark, Evie had balled her hands into tight little fists, longing to make some retort. But there was none to be made; she had thought the same thing herself, after all.
Miss Newton had either ignored or genuinely not noticed Evie's anger. She'd shrugged, a bored look on her angelic face. "If you were not so incompetent, you would turn all of this to your advantage, leverage your dowry and social status, your father's position, to bind him to you. But you will not, of course," she'd continued, sounding both pleased and puzzled. "Your mother will have you wed to Lieutenant Mowett- she is nearly as incompetent as you are, so very obvious- and perhaps I shall set my cap for Mr. Pullings after all."
Evie had been unable to prevent herself from gasping with something akin to outrage. Cressida didn't want him, she knew. She merely wanted to toy with him, to hurt Evie because she could, and perhaps hurt a good man in the process. There was no doubt in Evie's mind that Cressida could entice him. Surely there was no door in all the civilized world, including a door into Lieutenant Pullings' heart, that beauty such as Cressida's could fail to open.
"Or perhaps not. Lord knows I've no notion of trailing after some half-pay lieutenant stranded on the beach," Miss Newton had concluded with a shrug. "Perhaps I shall simply direct my energies towards promoting your match with Mr. Mowett. I have not yet decided. Now, be a good girl and give me your necklace."
Once more, Evie had gaped with shock. That final demand had made no sense, and she could hardly reconcile it with the conversation that had come before. "I beg your pardon?" This question was uttered without the indignation that ought to have colored it, purely because she could not comprehend Cressida's demand well enough to be indignant.
Cressida had smiled, her small, even white teeth glimmering menacingly. "I said 'be a good girl and give me your necklace'. It is far too pretty to look well on you. In fact I daresay I am doing you a favor; the necklace makes you look even more unattractive by comparison. But perhaps you'd prefer to keep it while I go have a quick discussion with your mother?"
The humiliating memory faded as Lady Fanshaw's strident voice recalled Evie to reality. "I asked you a question, Evelyn, and I expect an answer. Your necklace. Where is it?"
"I- ah- I lent it to… Miss Newton," Evie choked out, gaze fixed on her half-empty plate, praying to God that he would not strike her dead where she sat for telling such a ridiculous falsehood.
"Indeed?" her mother asked, voice thoughtful. She pursed her lips as she considered this answer. "I approve," she determined finally. "I quite enjoy Mrs. Newton's company, and her daughter is such a ladylike young woman. She is certainly a suitable companion for you. No title like Lady Bethany, of course, but she is related to some of the highest families in the land. You show uncommon good sense, child, ingratiating yourself with her."
Evie had never swallowed so many scathing retorts in her life as she had in this single day. Unable to trust herself to answer, she simply nodded.
"I have a splendid idea," her mother continued after a moment. "I have already decided that we shall invite Lieutenant Mowett on an excursion to Astley's. I had thought it was perhaps too bold, but we shall invite Miss Newton, as well as Lady Bethany and Lord Casewell, and then it shall be a party, nothing untoward about such an invitation at all." The gloating expression on Lady Fanshaw's face was nearly too much for her daughter to bear.
She was quite pleased to be able to point out the flaw in the plan. "The numbers will be uneven, Mother. Two gentlemen and three ladies. Surely that will never do."
"I daresay Lieutenant Mowett will bring Mr. Pullings," Lady Fanshaw muttered darkly. "Really, someone must tell the poor man that it is not at all the thing, having a horrid social climber nipping at one's heels in such a manner."
"Come now, my dear," Admiral Fanshaw protested mildly and seemingly out of nowhere. Evie was shocked to discover her father had been paying attention at all. "Lieutenant Pullings is a distinguished war hero, and quite gentlemanly. He'll be Master and Commander soon enough, perhaps even Post Captain, once I've had my say at the Admiralty."
It was nearly impossible, but Evie managed to prevent herself from shooting her mother a triumphant glance that clearly stated 'I told you so'.
"An epaulette or two does not a gentleman make," Lady Fanshaw responded dismissively. "And of course he's no good for Miss Newton, but he'd at least make up the number. Yes, I think this is our best course of action."
Evie could not imagine how anyone might think that adding the stunningly gorgeous Miss Newton to any social gathering would serve to show herself to advantage, but she did not voice this concern. After all, she had no interest in Mr. Mowett. Perhaps, if she were very lucky, he would find himself entranced with Miss Newton (poor man) and then she might be able to converse at greater length with Mr. Pullings. She had finally come to regret, very deeply, the fact that she had not spoken to him at all that afternoon. But how could she have? He was so very handsome, she so very plain, and she had made such a fool out of herself the night before.
She forced herself to ignore the fact that the situation would be exactly the same if ever they ended up at Astley's together. He would still be blindingly handsome, she would still be the exact opposite, and her embarrassment would certainly not have faded. Additionally, she forced herself to ignore the fact that Cressida was much more likely to do her best to entrance Mr. Pullings as a way to torture her than converse with Mr. Mowett as Evie might wish.
Yes, she ignored all this, and allowed herself to imagine an ideal world where everything was as it ought to be. She would wear one of her new gowns, the forest green changeable silk one, perhaps, the one that made her eyes look deep and mysterious, and she would refuse to wear a cap, and she would be brave enough to converse with Mr. Pullings without once thinking of the fiasco in the garden. Lord Casewell and Miss Newton would fall into the Thames, naturally, and Beth and Mr. Mowett would leave Evie alone with her handsome lieutenant. For one night, perhaps, all would be right with the world.
A voice of reason in the back of her mind was attempting to caution her to be wary, screaming that this pathetic infatuation with a man so far above her in looks and so far below her in station could only end in disappointment. But she ignored that as well.
...
To Be Continued! Up next Stephen and Lady Bethany: will he or won't he? Dun dun DUNNNNN!
P.S. Reviews are love, and very helpful as I work on this tricky chapter!
