A Family of Her Own by Rose Pearson

Chapter Seventeen

Aletter from France had finally arrived. Claveston could hardly contain his delight when he read its contents. The past weeks had been amongst the hardest he’d ever had to bear, waiting for the permission he had longed for so greatly. He bounded up the stairs of the townhouse to his sister’s room, where she and Miss Lefebvre were getting Gertrude ready for her visit to the Palace, to be presented at Court.

Gertrude had grown progressively more nervous as the date of her visit to St. James’ drew closer, despite the successes she had achieved since her arrival in London for the Season. Mama had managed to get the essential vouchers for the entire family to be able to attend Almack’s. Papa had somehow managed to always find a reason not to attend the meeting rooms, but Claveston had braved it in order to spend as much time as he could with Miss Lefebvre.

His presence had also given Gertrude confidence. He had introduced her to everyone she needed to know in town, and she had settled into a small group of highly respectable young ladies who were all there for their first Season. The four had become fast friends, taking promenades in the park together and attending the same events wherever they could. Gertrude had been delighted to find out that all of her friends would be presented at Court on the same day as her. She was both nervous and excited about meeting Queen Charlotte, despite the ridiculousness of the rules that went with the event.

Claveston couldn’t help himself from giggling when he saw the vast hoop and train of his sister’s gown. The embroidery on the vast swathes of fabric was elaborate and beautifully done, but it was such an old-fashioned style, and it swamped his delicate sister. “Don’t laugh,” she scolded him. “I have no choice. Queen Charlotte insists upon the rules.”

“You look like an elaborate sugar paste creation,” Claveston teased. “But at least your gown for your party tonight suits you better. I am sure that young Harveston will be delighted to see you in it.”

Gertrude blushed. Lord Alex Harveston was barely twenty and was heir to the Marquess of Bath. He was quite the most eligible bachelor in London this Season, and though very young seemed to be serious and sensible in a way most men his age were not. He had shown a particular interest in Gertrude, who tried to pretend that she thought little of the lad. But Miss Lefebvre had told Claveston that Gertrude was most certainly enamored with the boy. It would be an excellent match for her, though Claveston felt she was too young to be thinking of marriage.

“I shall go and check on Mama, the carriage will be here shortly. You will need to hurry,” he warned them.

He left the room and headed to his Mama’s suite of rooms. Mama was dressed ready to go and was spritzing herself with perfume at her dressing table as he arrived. “Mama, you look lovely,” he said, kissing her cheek and looking at both their reflections in the mirror.

“Your father has promised me he will be back this evening for Gertrude’s party,” Mama said, glancing one last time in the mirror before she stood up and turned to look at him. “You will be there, too, will you not?”

“Of course,” Claveston said handing her the letter he had just received. His mother smiled as she read it.

“Well, that is rather wonderful news, is it not?” she said, almost as delighted as he was himself.

“I thought I might ask her tonight, at Gertrude’s party,” he said cautiously. “Do you think that would be alright? I do not wish to overshadow Gertrude’s day, but I do not think I can wait any longer before making Sophie my fiancée.”

“I think she is adult enough now to see the good, don’t you? I think your sister will be delighted to know that she is to gain a sister. It will be the perfect end to her big day.” She tapped her finger to his cheek. Claveston beamed and bent his head to accept his mother’s kiss. “Now, fetch your sister so we can get going. We must not be late.”

Mama, Claveston, Sophie, and Gertrude bundled into the carriage, which took them across London to St. James’ Palace. A queue of young women and their families huddled in the courtyard, waiting to be called inside. Sophie and Claveston would have to watch the proceedings from a balcony, while Mama and Gertrude entered the Queens receiving room.

After kissing Gertrude and wishing her luck, the pair made their way up the stairway, as directed by a liveried footman. They took their seats. Sophie peered anxiously over the balcony. “There are so many young girls,” she said, as she looked at the long line of them awaiting their turn. “What if the Queen does not ‘ave enough time to greet them all?”

Claveston smiled. “She will. The greeting is brief. Each girl is announced and called forward. They and their sponsor curtsey, and the sponsor introduces the girl to the queen. Then the girl leaves the receiving room.”

“All this expense, with the gowns and the hair, and the time and energy, for a two-minute greeting?” Sophie marveled. “I am glad I am French and did not ‘ave to go through such a thing.”

Claveston spied Gertrude and pointed her out to Sophie. His sister looked the demure young lady that Sophie had made of her, and Claveston couldn’t have been more proud. Surreptitiously, he took Sophie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You did that,” he said nodding towards where Gertrude was dropping into a deep, elegant curtsey in front of Queen Charlotte.

He turned and saw that Sophie had tears in her eyes. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed them for her. She smiled gratefully at him. “I could so easily ‘ave left and not ever seen this,” she said.

“But you did not, and you are here to see her. This is as much your triumph as hers and Mama’s.”

When they had seen that Gertrude and Mama had left the room, they squeezed past the other onlookers and made their way back downstairs. Gertrude’s eyes were bright. “Queen Charlotte said I looked lovely, and that she had heard of what a credit I was to my Mama,” she gushed. “She knew who I was. Lord Harveston is her nephew, or something, and he has spoken of me, she said.”

“Our Gertrude has made her mark upon the London Season, she is the talk of the Ton it would seem,” Mama said proudly. “But may we please go home and get out of these heavy gowns. Queen Charlotte may enjoy the formalities, but they are devilish to wear.”

“And I must get ready for my party tonight. Everyone is to come,” Gertrude said happily. “I can hardly wait. I shall dance all night.”

“With young Harveston?” Claveston teased.

“I shall perhaps save him the dances before and after supper,” Gertrude said, wafting her fan in front of her face coquettishly. “But I must not be seen to favor any one young man more than another.” Everyone laughed and Gertrude pouted, knowing she was being teased, but then joined them.

* * *

There wasno more than ten minutes before the first guests would be arriving, and Gertrude was being difficult. At the very last minute she had decided that her carefully pinned and curled hair was not as carefully pinned and curled as it needed to be and had insisted that Sophie and her lady’s maid put it right.

“If you could just make them tighter, it is the fashion to have really tight curls,” Gertrude said anxiously as Sophie heated up the curling irons in the fire.

“You look perfect as you are, the Queen thought as much,” Sophie said, trying to placate Gertrude, who was fussing unnecessarily, in her mind.

“Sophie, please,” Gertrude begged.

Sophie unpinned Gertrude’s hair and picked up the silver hairbrush on the dresser and began to drag it through Gertrude’s hair, undoing all the hard work that had been done earlier that day. She then began to re-pin it, following Gertrude’s exacting directions as she demanded plaits and twists, flowers and seed pearls to be added in specific spots to catch the light.

A knock on the door made them all jump. Claveston peeked around the door. “Might I speak for a moment with Miss Lefebvre,” he said, looking at Sophie who had a mouth full of hairpins and had not even changed from her day dress and apron. She nodded, glad of a moment’s reprieve, and handed the curling irons to Gertrude’s lady’s maid and followed Claveston out into the hallway, removing the pins from her mouth as they went.

She smiled up at him, and as soon as she had pulled the door to, he stole a kiss. Sophie felt her skin flush with heat. He had not kissed her since her birthday, and they had barely seen one another since arriving in London. To be with him today, at the palace, holding his hand, had been the first inkling she had that he still felt the same way as he had declared that night. She had feared he had not meant it. That he had regretted it.

“I’ve had word from your father,” he said, beaming.

“You wrote to him?” Sophie said, a little surprised that he should have done such a thing.

“I asked your permission to do so,” he reminded her.

“I know, but I did not think you would actually do it. That you meant it. You’ve said nothing since. I presumed you ‘ad just said it in the moment and that you did not really mean it.”

“You either do not have a high opinion of me or assume that I do not have a high opinion of you.” Claveston gave her an indulgent smile.

“It is not that,” Sophie protested, but how could she possibly explain that it made no sense to her that a man such as him should care for her as she cared for him? “I…” she broke off, knowing she couldn’t make sense of it herself, much less for him.

“I think so highly of you, my darling Sophie, that I asked my father for his permission that very night,” he assured her. “And wrote to your father the next day. His reply took longer than I hoped – but that is for a very good reason. He waited to reply until he could arrange passage to England. He and your mother are coming to London, to see us wed – if you will agree to be my wife, that is.”

He looked at her, beseeching her with his eyes. She beamed. “My parents are coming here, to London? Oh, Lord Wycliffe, that is wonderful.”

“I think you are forgetting something,” he reminded her,

“I am?” she asked.

“There was something else I said in there, did you miss it?”

Sophie grinned but did not accept right away as he so obviously hoped she would. “Well, in order to agree,” she said teasing him, “you will need to actually ask me if I wish to be married to you?” she said. He had not actually asked her outright and she was not going to answer a vague statement and assume anything.

He grinned, obviously seeing her point. He got down on one knee and took her hand. “Dear Miss Lefebvre, darling Sophie, will you be my wife? Will you love me, despite all my flaws? Please, say you will be mine? I have loved you for so long. I think I may have even fallen in love with you the night of William’s wedding when you danced with me so beautifully. I have sought out reason after reason to keep you close to me ever since.”

Sophie pulled him upright. “Dearest Claveston. ‘ad you asked me when we first met, or even when I first came to Compton, I would ‘ave turned you down. I did not much like you. You were often rude, always arrogant, and dressed entirely too flamboyantly – even for a Frenchwoman to bear.” She laughed.

“Though your laugh is music to my ears, you are not giving me much confidence, Sophie,” Claveston said, pretending to be pained by the somewhat hurtful things she had just said. He knew it was just her French tendency to be truthful, something he loved her for utterly.

“But, as I grew to know you,” Sophie continued, pressing a finger to his lips so he would be quiet and let her speak, “I ‘ave learned that you are kind and generous. You love your sister and do all you can to protect her, and always ‘ave. You long only to be loved in return for the love you give – and I am ‘appy to give you that love until the day that I die. I do love you, and I will marry you.”

The door behind them clicked open as Claveston swept Sophie up into his arms and kissed her exuberantly all over her face. “Oh, I am so glad,” Gertrude said behind them. “I couldn’t stop myself from listening through the door, and I am so glad I did. I thought I might have ruined everything for you both, forever. I am so sorry I was such a shrew.”

Claveston set Sophie down and hugged his sister as Sophie caught her breath. “You do know that you will never lose either of us now, don’t you,” he said to her.

“I do. I don’t lose a brother, I gain a Sophie – forever,” Gertrude said happily as Sophie embraced her, too. “But I will leave you alone now, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She disappeared back inside, and Claveston smiled at Sophie. “You will have to stop calling me Lord Wycliffe now,” he reminded her as he took both her hands in his.

“I think I can manage that,” she said a little shyly, “Claveston.”

“I do so love the way my name sounds upon your lips,” he sighed and stole another kiss from her perfect lips. “May I arrange for the banns to be read as soon as possible? I want to be able to marry you the moment your family arrives.”

She nodded happily and watched him go downstairs ready to greet their guests. Sophie hugged herself and went back in to finish helping her new sister-in-law-to-be to get ready for her party. It would not be long before she would be enjoying her own big day, and with her family in attendance, too.