"The king formed the coalition army of England, Hanover, Austria, and Holland for the invasion of France, Mr. Pitt."
"Under the present Secretary of State, neither England's army, navy, nor diplomatic service are well organized. In a war with France, England will suffer calamity!"
"I agree with you, Mr. Pitt. And doubtless Newcastle will advance from Secretary of State to being our next Prime Minister. England is not best served by Dutch and German troops. We need a strong _British_ army and navy. Argyll and I think we need regiments recruited in the Highlands, not in foreign countries!"
"The king and his ministers fear all Scots are Jacobites."
"That's utter rot! It was Scottish regiments under command of my father, Argyll, who defeated, nay _crushed_, the Jacobites at the Battle of Culloden Moor. Recruits from the Highlands, given regular pay, would faithfully support the government."
"I myself am ambitious for more power in the administration. Lisping, effeminate, indecisive incompetents such as Newcastle only get elected by bribery. I am working to change the system. Can I personally count on the support of you and Argyll?"
John Campbell saw the minister's energy, his patriotism, and his devotion. "You can, Mr. Pitt."
"Where the devil have you been?" Bridget Gunning was furious that her husband, who had gone to visit his family in St. Ives, Cambridgeshire, had been absent for three days.
"My father is seriously ill, Bridget. It's providential that I visited St. Ives--his days are numbered, I fear," Jack said sadly.
Her eyes narrowed. "Did you get the money?"
"I could hardly bring up money at such a time."
"What better time? I can assure you that your brothers' thoughts will be on money if your father is dying! Will you be named in the will?"
"Bridget, you know I am not his heir. I am the youngest. I can only hope for a couple of hundred, at best."
"Your brother Peter will be the new Lord Gunning. At least we'll be able to drop his name socially, especially if he takes his seat in the House."
"Peter was happy to see me. He insisted on providing me with a mount when he realized that I had no horse."
"A horse requires stabling ... one more expense. You must make another round of the moneylenders now that you have prospects of being named in Lord Gunning's will. If you make them think your inheritance will be substantial, you should have no problem borrowing more funds. The first thing we need is a ladies' maid. It is imperative that young ladies of fashion be accompanied by a maid when they are not in the company of their mother."
"Invited to the Court of St. James, are they?" Jack asked dryly.
"As good as!" Bridget picked up the two invitations that had arrived in the morning's post and wafted them beneath his nose with an air of triumph. "The girls are readying themselves this very moment for afternoon tea with the countess and Lady Charlotte Boyle at Burlington House." She paused for dramatic effect then announced with a fanfare, "Ta-da! Tomorrow night we are invited to a gala reception at Devonshire House, no less!"
"You've done well, Bridget," Jack acknowledged. "Don't let this go to your head. Proceed with caution, as will I. No doubt there will be gaming at Devonshire House tomorrow night."
"I'll just get my bonnet. When the girls come down, don't you dare tell them that their grandfather is dying!"
"I won't be here. I must secure a place for my horse in the Great Marlborough Street
livery stable."
As Bridget Gunning ushered her daughters down Regent Street
toward Piccadilly, she gave them strict instructions. "Do not forget to address the countess as Lady Burlington at all times. Do not put yourselves forward. Do not speak until spoken to. Address her daughter as Lady Charlotte unless she gives you permission to be less formal. Above all, do not gape at the splendor of Burlington House. I can guarantee we have seen nothing before like it. The mansion's interiors have been designed by William Kent, the most renowned architect in all of England and a close personal friend of the earl. Lord Burlington is reputed to be a man of extraordinary taste and an inspired collector of art."
When a gentleman on Regent Street
tipped his beaver hat to the ladies, Maria rewarded the gallant with a smile. "A lady never, _ever_ bestows her smile upon a man on the street. It is simply not done! It is downright common--something an _actress_ would do." Bridget said the word _actress_ as if it were anathema.
Maria, who didn't like being chastised, complained, "My new shoes are making a blister on my heel. How much farther is it?"
"We shall take a cab at the corner. We must arrive by carriage, but I wasn't going to pay a driver to bring us all the way from Great Marlborough Street
." Bridget looked over the handsome cabs critically and chose the one that was the least shabby. It gave her a great deal of satisfaction to give the driver directions.
"Burlington House!" She swept into the cab with regal _hauteur_.
The public conveyance was scrutinized by the porter and only allowed to pass into the courtyard after he had assessed the occupants and found them worthy. When the cab drew up at the portico, Bridget paid the driver then ascended the marble steps and lifted the door knocker. Maria followed in her mother's confident wake, while Elizabeth tried not to feel overwhelmed.
As the liveried majordomo led the way toward an elegant sitting room furnished with blue silk gilt chairs and satinwood tables, Charlie, with her dog at her heels, came running down the spiral staircase, overjoyed to see her friend. "Elizabeth! I'm so happy to see you!" Remembering her manners, Charlie bobbed a curtsy to Bridget Gunning. "Thank you for coming to London, ma'am!"
"You have a dog!" Elizabeth exclaimed with delight then heard her mother clear her throat. "Thank you for inviting us to tea, Lady Charlotte. What's his name?"
"His name is Dandy and please call me Charlie." She looked at Maria, who was quickly backing away from the dog before he could jump up and paw her new pink afternoon dress. Charlie bent and scooped up the dog. "I'm sorry, Maria. He won't hurt you."
"Welcome to Burlington House." The countess bent toward Bridget's cheek and kissed the air. "Such punctual guests put me to shame. Everyone will tell you I have no notion of time."
"We've been so inundated with invitations since we arrived in London I'm losing track of time myself." Bridget settled in the chair facing Dorothy Boyle. She removed her gloves but not her stylish bonnet. Following her mother's lead, Maria also took a gilt chair and removed her gloves. Elizabeth and Charlie sat on a gilt settee with Dandy between them and grinned at each other.
"You must learn which invitations to decline and which to accept, or you will be run ragged," the countess advised as a uniformed maid rolled in a tea cart holding a magnificent Georgian silver tea service and a three-tiered server filled with dainty lobster _pate_ and cucumber sandwiches. "Of course, certain invitations are obligatory." She poured the tea and told them to help themselves to the refreshments.
"I could use some advice in these matters. I haven't lived in England for ages." Bridget knew most females loved to offer advice.
"Well, naturally, one doesn't refuse to attend any Court function or invitations from the ruling Whig families. Then, of course, Wednesdays are taken up with Almack's. The place is a must when you have daughters of marriageable age, as we do."
"I haven't had a moment to see about subscriptions to Almack's." Bridget spread her hands helplessly.
"I'll have a word with Sarah Jersey. I'll be happy to sponsor Elizabeth and Maria. They'll be good company for Charlie. She has more confidence when she's with friends."
"How can I thank you for your trouble?"
Dorothy waved a languid hand. "No trouble at all. What are friends for? How is that handsome husband of yours?"
"Been visiting his father, Lord Gunning, for the past three days. I'm relieved he got back in time to escort us to the reception at Devonshire House tomorrow night."
Dorothy, dying to gossip, needed to get rid of their da
ughters first. "Charlie, I believe Dandy needs to go to the garden. Daddy doesn't appreciate his little turds on the new Turkish carpets."
Charlie and Elizabeth jumped up immediately, eager to escape to the garden so they could talk freely. Maria was more reluctant. "May I look at your paintings, Lady Burlington?"
"Of course, my dear." Dorothy turned to Bridget. "Imagine one so young taking an interest in art."
"I've been thinking of having Maria's portrait painted ... haven't decided on an artist yet, though Reynolds is highly recommended."
"Devonshire House is filled with portraits of the Cavendish daughters, though none of them are what you would call raving beauties." Dorothy leaned forward and spoke to Bridget confidentially. "When Rachel and Catherine were here to tea I couldn't help thinking it was a pity they got their looks from their mother. The duchess was plain Catherine Hoskyns when the duke wed her, and I do mean _plain_!"
"Perhaps she had other attractions!" Bridget said, laughing.
"Money, of course, but no breeding. Her father was a middle-class businessman, and Devonshire had enormous gambling debts."
Bridget listened avidly as Lady Burlington indulged in her second favorite pastime: gossip.
Once in the garden, Beth and Charlie hugged each other and didn't stop talking for quarter of an hour. Out from beneath her mother's disapproving eyes Elizabeth became animated. She laughed with delight as she watched Dandy sniff every flower then cock his leg up to pee on every tree. "Charlie, you are so lucky to have a dog. May I hold him?"
"Of course. Dandy loves attention!"
Beth scooped him up, held him close, and let him lick her chin.
"I'm so excited about tomorrow night. At first, the Cavendish sisters forgot to invite me and I think it was Will who prompted them to bring me an invitation. I hope it was Will! I can't stop thinking about him, Beth," Charlie confessed.
"Did they mention Will, I mean, Lord Hartington?"
"Yes, they said that John Campbell and Will had dinner with them at Devonshire House. I told them about you and what a marvelous time we had, and Mother suggested they invite you to the reception."
"Do you think John Campbell will be there?" Elizabeth could hardly breathe at the thought of seeing him again.
"Of course he'll be there. He and Will are best friends."
"Will there be dancing?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly.
"I'm not sure. It isn't a ball--it's a reception for His Grace--but there should be lots of opportunities to talk and stroll in the gardens beneath colored lanterns ... and flirt!" Charlie lowered her voice to a whisper. "I dreamed about Will last night... I dreamed that he kissed me!"
Beth closed her eyes, remembering, as her hands caressed the little dog. "Everything seems like a dream to me. I cannot believe I'm going to Devonshire House tomorrow night!"
That night when she went to bed, Elizabeth Gunning barely slept for the excitement bubbling inside her. They had ridden home in the shiny Burlington coach with the crest on its door, because their mother had cleverly said that though the Gunnings had ordered a carriage, it had not yet been delivered.
Elizabeth thought about her mother for a moment. She was certainly a force to be dealt with. Bridget had seemed so at ease, talking with the Countess of Burlington as if they were bosom friends, and she had even managed to get them subscriptions to Almacks. It was nothing short of a miracle!
At breakfast the next morning, Elizabeth knew her excitement had not diminished; if anything, it had grown. She felt as if her heart was singing. "I asked Charlie if there would be dancing tonight. She said that she didn't think so, because it's a reception for the duke, but she said the guests could stroll in the gardens beneath colored lanterns! Oh, I can't wait to see Devonshire House!"
"Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait," Bridget said.
Elizabeth looked at her mother, and her heart jumped into her throat. "What do you mean?" she whispered as apprehension dug in its sharp claws.
"Have you forgotten, Elizabeth? We have only one ball gown. Maria shall be the one to wear it to Devonshire House!"
*Chapter Seven*
Elizabeth pinned Maria's silvery-blond curls securely to the top of her head then teased tiny spirals to frame her lovely face, made even paler by paste and powder. "I'm glad Mother is letting you wear your own hair tonight; it's far more lovely than a wig."
"And will garner me far more male attention," Maria added. "Please make my excuses to Charlie ... tell her I have a sick headache and beg her forgiveness."
"I shan't _beg_ Charlotte Boyle for anything! She's a pampered little chit who won't have to lift a finger to get a husband. Because of her father's wealth and property, titled men will fawn on her. I don't know how you can be such friends with her!"
Beth was startled at her sister's vehemence. "It's not Charlie's fault that her father is an earl. And it is because of my friendship with her that our family has received invitations."
"Well, I agree the Burlingtons are a great social connection."
"That isn't the reason Charlie is my friend. I truly like her."
"Help me with my gown, I don't want to disturb my curls." Elizabeth lifted the exquisite white gown over Maria's head, adjusted the full skirt over the petticoat, and stepped back. "You look absolutely beautiful. Don't forget a fan." Beth had recovered the old fans with silk and added ribbons.
Maria pulled on her evening gloves and selected the prettiest fan. "I must go and show Mother how beautiful I look."
Jack Gunning entered Elizabeth's bedchamber with a look of regret on his face. "I'm sorry you're not able to go, my beauty. It's very generous of you to let Maria wear the gown tonight. There is sure to be gaming at Devonshire House--I promise to win enough to buy you a ball gown of your own."
"You look very grand, Father. Have a wonderful time and don't worry about me." She picked up a bodkin threaded with pale green ribbon. "I'm going to make the Gunning ladies some garters."
There was such a crush of carriages in the Devonshire House courtyard that none would notice they had come by hired cab, Maria realized with relief. The massive mansion looked like a barracks from the outside but, when the Gunnings went inside, Maria saw that it was even more opulent than Burlington House. A connoisseur would have known the elegant rooms of Burlington House were furnished in better taste, but the _beau monde_ in general knew little about taste. Greeted by their hostesses, Maria followed her mother's instructions and sank into a graceful curtsy. "Lady Rachel, Lady Catherine, I am delighted to make your acquaintance."
"Mistress Elizabeth," Rachel murmured with narrowed eyes.
"Ah, no, this is my elder daughter, Maria," Bridget Gunning explained. "Elizabeth could not be with us tonight."
Rachel's glance swept Maria from head to toe. She did not look reassured, and as the Gunnings passed into the marble-pillared salon Rachel whispered to her sister, "Her beauty is angelic--what must the other be like?"
A liveried footman presented a silver tray of champagne. Bridget swept up a glass and looked at Maria with approval as she opened her fan and demurely lowered her lashes. "No, thank you."
As half a dozen males lifted quizzing glasses to observe the exquisite creature who had just arrived, Charlotte Boyle found them. "You're here at last! Where's Elizabeth?"
"She sends her apologies, Lady Charlotte," Bridget said.
"She's not coming?" Charlie was aghast. Her face fell with the acute disappointment she felt.
The Countess of Burlington materialized. "Bridget! John!"
She turned to the man beside her. "I want you to meet the Gunnings. This is Charles Fitzroy, the Duke of Grafton."
Bridget struck up a conversation immediately. Dukes were few and far between. Though he wasn't in the first flush of youth, it was possible that the duke could be a widower.
The countess tucked her arm beneath Jack Gunning's and gave him an arch look. "Shall I show you where the gaming room is?"
"Dorothy, you read my mind." Ja
ck winked at his wife. "I'm sure you will excuse us Bridget, Grafton."
Bridget waved them off, and Grafton managed to escape. "Your father can be a smooth devil when the mood takes him," she told Maria then lifted her fan to cover her mouth. "All the gentlemen in the room are gaping at you."
Maria opened her fan. "They are all dying for introductions!"
Bridget glanced aside and saw that Charlie Boyle looked forlorn. "Lady Charlotte, I know you must be eager to introduce Maria to your friends, so off you go, you two. Try to behave yourselves!"
Maria eagerly moved away from her mother.
"Mistress Gunning! I had no idea you were in London." Michael Boyle made a leg, then waggled his eyebrows at Charlie.
"Maria, you remember my cousin Michael Boyle?"
She looked into his eyes and gave him a sly smile. "I remember that I slapped you, my lord."
He took her fingers to his lips. "Your servant, mistress."
"In that case, you may get me some champagne."
Michael took two glasses from a passing footman, bestowed one upon Maria, then sipped the other himself.
"Thanks for nothing, Michael!" Charlotte declared.
"I'm looking out for you, Charlie. Champagne steals the senses."
"Along with the manners, obviously." She took her courage in her hands. "Is your friend Will... Lord Harrington here?"
"Since this is Devonshire House, you know damn well he's here. Deep in conversation with John and Cumberland when I left them."
Maria blinked. "Do you mean the _Duke_ of Cumberland? His Royal Highness?" she asked with disbelief.
"Yes, he and John fought in Scotland, at Culloden."
"But now they're friends again?" Maria asked inanely.
It was Michael's turn to blink. _Much beauty... few brains_!
"Boyle, trust you to monopolize the most captivating beauty in the room... I mean beauties." The man bowed to Lady Charlotte.
"Hello, George. I believe you know my cousin, but allow me to introduce Mistress Maria Gunning. This is my friend George Norwich, Earl of Coventry."