Granted, the smile was thin and he could almost see her head steaming from the fury she was holding in, but—hold it in she did.
Another revelation! Apparently, Temperance Lattimar could not only mask her feelings, she could withstand being goaded—which he was sure his godmother was doing deliberately, to see what sort of response Miss Lattimar could be prodded into producing.
She was certainly angry, for though her tone remained pleasant, the gaze she fixed on Lady Sayleford was frigid. ‘I’m sure I could turn up among my relations a matron more respectable than Mama to sponsor me. However, since only a woman of unbounded influence could force enough of society to receive a daughter of the infamous Lady Vraux that my father would consider my presentation adequate, I agreed to let Mr Newell approach you. Since sponsoring a daughter of the infamous Lady Vraux is likely to be thought poor judgement on the part of anyone foolish enough to attempt the task, it would be wise of you to steer clear of me. And now, I expect we have taken up enough of your valuable time.’
As Giff drew in a sharp breath, she started to rise—only to check as the Dowager Countess held out a hand. ‘Please, sit, my dear,’ she said in pleasant tones, as if Temperance’s reply hadn’t been a defiant rebuttal, however obliquely delivered. ‘We haven’t yet had our tea.’
As she spoke, the butler walked in with the tray, placing it on the table and pouring for them. Temperance sat in such absolute stillness, then took her cup with such measured precision, Giff had the vision of some wild beast from the Royal Menagerie immobilised by chains. How long could she restrain that anger? And would he be the unlucky victim of that storm when it did break?
After setting down her own cup, Lady Sayleford said, ‘So, you think I should “steer clear of you”, Miss Lattimar? Do you truly think I am in the habit of being guided by chits of two-and-twenty with no experience of the world and nothing but an outrageous reputation to boast of?’
Temperance’s face paled and Giff felt his own anger rise. He’d brought Temper here to ask for help—not to have his imperious godmother subject her to the sort of set-down that had reduced matrons twice her age to tears.
Before Giff could intervene, Temperance set down her cup—and burst out laughing. ‘Goodness, no, Countess!’ she said when she’d controlled her mirth. ‘I sincerely doubt you’ve ever been guided by anyone.’
Lady Sayleford smiled, as if Temper had passed some sort of test. Which, Giff supposed she just had—neither wilting under the Countess’s pointed questioning, nor flying into a tantrum.
‘You don’t seem inclined to be guided, either,’ the Countess observed. ‘Certainly not by Lady Stoneway, who you must admit has only your best interests at heart.’
Temperance’s amusement vanished as quickly as it had arisen. ‘I do know that. But Mama has been treated outrageously for years. By Papa. By society. Lately, for things that are not at all her fault. I don’t intend to hide away and act as if I believe they were.’
Lady Sayleford nodded. ‘Your loyalty to your mother is admirable and, as you may know, I value family loyalty highly. But you must admit that your mother was very foolish when she was younger and society is not forgiving.’
‘Not of a woman,’ Temperance said acerbically. ‘Especially not one who is beautiful, charming and a magnet for the attention of every gentleman in the room.’
‘They are much quicker to exile a Beauty than a wallflower, aren’t they?’ the Countess replied drily. ‘I believe you do have enough backbone to last a Season. So, let me see... Vraux has pots of money. Angela, a niece of my late husband’s, is a widow living in straitened circumstances, her son in the Royal Navy, her daughter married to some country nobody. To enjoy a Season in London, she would probably agree to serve as your chaperon. If your father will see her properly clothed and pay her expenses, I shall send for her.’
‘Before you offer to help me, I must warn you that, even backed by your approval, I expect to meet with a considerable amount of disapproval. If goaded, I might be...irresistibly tempted to do something outrageous, just to live down to society’s expectations. Which, of course, would further my goal of discouraging suitors.’
‘It might encourage the unscrupulous, though. You’re too intelligent to do anything stupid, I hope—something that might place you in actual danger. Men can be dangerous, especially to women they think invite their attentions. Sadly, my dear, with your looks and reputation, it wouldn’t take much for them to make that assumption.’
Was it only his imagination, Giff wondered, or did Temperance once again turn pale? But then she shook her head, colour returning to her cheeks.
‘I don’t intend to encourage any man and I certainly wouldn’t agree to meet one alone, if that’s what you are warning against. If provoked, I might feel compelled to best some smirking gentleman in a race through Hyde Park—in front of a full complement of witnesses. Or I might accept a dare to drive a curricle down St James’s Street past the gentlemen’s clubs,’ she added, chuckling when Giff groaned.
‘You are indeed your mama,’ Lady Sayleford said, her eyes lighting with amusement. ‘But wiser and forewarned. I do hope, though,’ she added, sobering, ‘that you end up happier than she did.’
After a moment of silence, as if she were weighing whether or not to speak, Temperance said, ‘She...she loved Christopher’s father, didn’t she? Sir Julian Cantrell? I’ve never asked her, not wanting to dredge up sad memories, and everyone else puts me off. I overheard Aunt Gussie telling Gregory that Sir Julian was the love of her life. That he loved her, too, enough that he was prepared to be shunned by society for marrying a divorced woman, only Papa refused to divorce her. I’m sure you know the truth. Won’t you tell me?’
Lady Sayleford remained silent as well, so long that Giff thought she would refuse to answer. Finally, she said, ‘I don’t agree that it does a girl any good to have the truth withheld from her. It’s not as if, growing up a member of the Vraux Miscellany, you have any maidenly innocence to protect!’
‘That’s true,’ Temperance agreed with a wry grimace. ‘So—you will tell me?’
Lady Sayleford sighed. ‘After Vraux refused Felicia the divorce she pleaded for, I half-expected she and Cantrell would run away to America. But she loved Gregory and knew, if she fled, she would never see her firstborn again. She gave up Sir Julian instead. It nearly broke him, especially after he discovered she was carrying his child. By the way, I’m glad he was later able to reconcile with Christopher; a man should have a relationship with his own son, even if he can’t claim the boy outright. It was only after Felicia lost Sir Julian that, once very circumspect, she became...careless of her reputation. She must have been devastated, else she would never have been taken in by your father.’
‘Marsden Hightower?’
‘Marsden Hightower,’ Lady Sayleford confirmed with a curl of her lip. ‘Rich, handsome, charming—and a cad of the highest order. He boasted of his conquest all over town, let slip lurid details of the rendezvous he persuaded her into—meeting him in some hostess’s boudoir in the midst of ball, or in the shrubbery at some garden party! Details too deliciously scandalous not to become the talk of society—or to thoroughly offend the hostesses at whose events the purported dalliances had taken place. She was never forgiven—not that, being Felicia, she ever expressed remorse.’
‘She would have confronted the rumours with her lips sealed and her head held high.’
Lady Sayleford nodded. ‘And so she did. Despite the reputation she acquired, she never took a married man for a lover and she had countless opportunities to do so. A distinction I recognise and appreciate, even if many of society’s harpies do not.’
‘Is that why you still receive her, when most of the high sticklers will not?’
‘I admire honour, as I admire courage. Especially honour and courage maintained when one is given no credit for possessing them.’
‘Thank