. Agreed?"
The woman bobbed a stiff curtsy. "Yes, madam."
"You may start today. Your name will be Emma. Wait here."
Bridget walked to the opposite end of the hall where the male actors congregated. "I need some actors tonight for a crowd scene outside Drury Lane Theater. The job pays sixpence apiece. I shall arrive at theater-time accompanied by two beautiful young ladies. When we step from the carriage, I want you to mob us. You must jostle and push each other to get a glimpse of the Beauties. I'm sure that's all the direction you need--you've all played in mob scenes on the stage, I warrant." Bridget opened her reticule and handed out coins to a score of men. "Show up, do a good job, and I shall use your services again soon."
Bridget walked back down the hall. "Come, Emma. We'll visit my friend Peg Woffington. Consider this your audition."
Emma walked one step behind Bridget as she made her way into Drury Lane Theater. Tonight was opening night and by afternoon backstage would be like Bedlam. Bridget knocked on Peg's dressing room door, which was opened by Dora. "I've come to wish you well!"
"Bridget, come in and sit for a few moments," Peg invited.
Emma followed Bridget and tried not to gape at the famous star. "May I take your cloak, ma'am?"
"No, thank you, Emma. This is opening night, so I shan't stay."
"We're doing _She Stoops to Conquer_." Peg glanced at Bridget's ladies' maid and arched an approving eyebrow. "We try to coordinate with the opening of Parliament. The critics will call my performance _coarse extravagance_, but I prefer to think of it as _exuberant high spirits_."
"My daughters and I plan to attend, Peg. I just wanted to warn you that wherever they go these days, they create a sensation." Bridget lowered her eyelid in a wink.
"You clever minx, the critics report on everyone and everything that happens opening night." Peg grinned. "Have a care or the name Gunning will be as famous as Woffington."
"Newspaper people can be as tenacious as bloodhounds."
"It is a burden we must endure," Peg said dramatically.
"I'll be off. Emma's wardrobe is appalling. I must get her fitted with some decent uniforms."
Bridget took Emma to the secondhand shop and between them decided on a plain black silk dress and a gray one. They were more elegant than uniforms and must have been expensive when new. She also bought her a smart black cloak trimmed with braid. "You can come to Great Marlborough Street
now. This evening you will help my daughters to dress and perhaps fashion their hair. After we leave for the theater, you can go and fetch your belongings."
On the opening day of Parliament, none of its members expected to accomplish much in the way of the country's business. They showed up, greeted one another, either warmly or distantly, sized up their opponents, and huddled with their cronies. The members noted who had died since the last session and speculated on who looked most likely to do so during this session.
The Earl of Coventry could not wait to greet his friend the Duke of Hamilton. "James, you're looking a bit worse for wear today. Have a taxing weekend, did you?"
"Don't remember, actually," Hamilton drawled. "Woke up this morning at the Cloister in Pall Mall. Must have enjoyed more than one nun by the size of the bill the good abbess presented to me."
George, accustomed to Hamilton's boasting about his virility, had a little boasting of his own to impart, to say nothing of the bet he would collect. It was sure to wipe the smug sneer from Hamilton's face. "James, shall we meet as usual in Bucks' Coffee House, Parliament Square
, after the session?"
"Why not? I'll need a bloody eye-opener by then."
Two hours later, James Hamilton entered the smoke-filled coffeehouse and slid into the booth where Coventry sat awaiting him. "Who showed up at Devonshire House Friday evening? All the usual toadies, including yourself, George?"
"You'll want to kick yourself for not being there, James."
"And why is that, pray?" Hamilton stifled a yawn.
"I was formally introduced to _Mistress Maria Gunning_!" He grinned. "You owe me ten guineas, James. Perhaps you should see your doctor--you've turned a peculiar shade of green."
Hamilton's look of boredom vanished. "You sly bastard, Coventry! Did you know she was going to be there?"
"I swear I didn't have an inkling. But I tell you what, James, the rumors weren't exaggerated. Maria Gunning is the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on."
"So you haven't laid hands on her yet?"
"I don't think either of us will be collecting on that particular bet anytime soon. Her mother watches her like a hawk!"
"Perhaps I should try tupping the mother," Hamilton half jested.
"Attractive woman, but dominant and controlling in the extreme. Took them up in my carriage when I encountered them walking in Hyde Park Saturday. She keeps her daughter on a very short leash."
"There's another one, isn't there?" Hamilton's tone was rife with speculation.
"Elizabeth . .. even younger than Maria. I haven't yet had the pleasure, but the Gunnings are attending Drury Lane
tonight."
"Then so are we, James, so are we."
*Chapter Nine*
Dressed in identical dark sapphire-blue evening capes that contrasted so vividly with their bright tresses, Elizabeth and Maria stood before their mother and Emma for critical inspection.
"Masks, I think." Bridget opened the old trunk that held theatrical paraphernalia and produced a pair of masks on sticks. "Do not cover your faces with them," she warned. "We want everyone attending the play tonight to get a good look at you both. Just carry them for dramatic effect. Emma, what do you think?"
"Absolutely stunning, ma'am."
"Good, that's the effect we are aiming for. Maria, Elizabeth, keep yourselves aloof from the riffraff tonight," she ordered.
A half hour later, when they arrived in Drury Lane
by hansom cab, the entire theater district was crowded. Opening night was _the_ fashionable place to be for London's _elite_. Bridget emerged cautiously from the carriage, followed by her daughters. The moment Maria set her foot to the pavement, cries went up.
"It's the Gunnings!"
"Let me see!"
"Look, it's them! It's the Gunnings!"
The cries were accompanied by a great deal of jostling, pushing, and shoving, mingled with shouting and cursing. The throng outside the theater was rapidly becoming involved in a _melee_.
Coventry and Hamilton had just purchased box tickets for the performance, when the crowd around them erupted. "What the devil is going on?" Hamilton demanded. "Bloody rabble should be shot!"
Coventry, taller than most in the crowd, caught a glimpse of silver-gilt hair. "James, it's them ... it's the Gunning ladies! By God, they will be trampled."
Hamilton carried a silver-headed malacca cane, which he wielded effectively as he ordered, "Make way, make way there!" The crowd fell back enough for the two men to clear a path to the ladies.
"Lord Coventry, how can I thank you for your gallant rescue? We should not have come! It is getting to the stage where my daughters cannot appear in public without being mobbed!"
Elizabeth looked at the Earl of Coventry whom Maria claimed was already hooked on her line, but then her eyes were drawn to the man who accompanied him. He was staring openly at her and made no attempt to hide his blatant interest. She lowered her lashes to break their eye contact, but when she raised them again, she found his unblinking gaze transfixed upon her. His hazel eyes devoured her. She covered her face with her mask in a protective gesture.
"Let us get inside the theater lobby, away from this unruly crowd," Coventry urged, genuinely concerned for Maria.
Once inside, they were no longer being pushed, but they were certainly being stared at and whispered about.
"We have a box. I suggest you ladies join us for your own protection," Hamilton invited.
Bridget arched her brows. "I rather think not, my lord. Sitting
in a box would be tantamount to putting my daughters on display for the audience to gape at!"
"Permit me to introduce my friend, James Douglas, Duke of Hamilton. This is the honorable Bridget Gunning, her daughter Mistress Maria, and I assume Mistress Elizabeth."
"Your Grace, I am delighted."
Hamilton saw the look of speculation on Bridget Gunning's face and pressed his advantage. "I must insist! I believe you ladies will be far safer in our box than sitting in the audience."
Bridget inclined her head. "Your Grace is too kind."
It was her first concession; he vowed it would not be her last.
They were led to the box by an usher, who was all deference to the noble gentlemen. He held aside the plush curtain, and Maria Gunning stepped in and took a front-row seat as if she owned it. Elizabeth held back, awaiting directions from her mother. When Bridget indicated where she should sit, Beth quietly took her seat and shook her head when the duke offered to remove her cape.
Maria's fingers fluffed out her hair as she looked over the audience. She felt quite complacent at the number of people who were gazing up at her with frank curiosity. Her beauty had caused quite a stir tonight, and she liked the way it made her feel. Elizabeth, on the other hand, felt vaguely suspicious. It was almost as if her mother had arranged for them to be mobbed the moment they arrived. She also wondered if this meeting with a Duke of the Realm was contrived. She recognized immediately that Lord Hamilton and her mother were two of a kind. Both were strong-willed and used to taking control. A small curl of fear constricted her breathing.
When the curtain went up, Elizabeth focused on Peg Woffington.
_She Stoops to Conquer_ was a comedy that poked fun and often ridiculed the manners of Society. Somewhere in the middle of the first act, Beth became immersed in the play and began to laugh.
James Hamilton never took his eyes from the golden-haired female. Her beauty easily eclipsed that of his former _fiancée,_ Elizabeth Chudleigh, but this lovely young girl had an indefinable air of chaste innocence about her as well. The sister also was undeniably beautiful, but she was fully aware of it, and it lessened her charm. Of the two, Maria would be far easier to bed and therefore less of a challenge. James Hamilton's appetite was whetted. He had a sudden desire to own Elizabeth, body and soul.
The first act ended, but before the lights went up, Beth became aware of the duke's eyes upon her. The spiral of fear curled tighter inside her chest. When she recognized the occupants of two boxes across the theater, some of her anxiety left her. The Countess of Burlington and Lady Charlotte sat in a box next to the Cavendish sisters, who were accompanied by their brother, Will, Lord Harrington. She watched as he visited Charlie's box, feeling acute disappointment that his friend John was not with him.
Before the lights went down, Charlie waved to her. She was about to wave back when Beth found her mother glaring at her as if she had committed an unforgivable social blunder. "A lady never draws attention to herself, Elizabeth."
Beth quickly lowered her lashes before her mother could see the resentment flash in her eyes. _You are a hypocrite! You want us to draw the attention of all London. Why else are we sitting here on display in this theater box with a duke and an earl_?
When the theater darkened, Elizabeth felt a hand cover hers. Her lashes flew up, and she looked directly into the duke's eyes. Ostensibly, the hand was to comfort her, but Beth knew otherwise. It was to gain her trust. She poked it with the stick of her mask and was disconcerted when it did not have the desired effect. Hamilton gripped her hand more firmly and squeezed. When she stared coolly into his eyes, he smiled. She knew he was showing his power when he did not remove his hand until he was good and ready.
The play was spoiled for Beth since she could no longer focus on anything save Hamilton's overpowering presence. She was greatly relieved when her mother declined a ride home in his carriage. "Thank you, but we shall join my friend Lady Burlington. We are to discuss plans to attend Almack's on Wednesday night."
Bridget Gunning bade the gentlemen good night, her daughters dropped curtsies, and the three ladies took their leave.
Dorothy Boyle gave Bridget a faux embrace. "I swear the name of Gunning is on everyone's lips tonight. People were jostling just to get a glimpse of you."
"If we hadn't been rescued by His Grace, the Duke of Hamilton, I don't know what we should have done."
Dorothy changed the subject. She would save the gossip about Hamilton for when they were more private. "We are having a house party this weekend at Chiswick. Maria and Elizabeth's invitations are in the post but I wanted to assure you that I shall _chaperon_ them every moment. No need for you to worry at all." She winked. "You may be sure that any young men included will have coronets."
Bridget pressed her lips together. Dorothy Boyle was making it clear that only her daughters were invited; she was not. But if this was the way things were done by the families of the _ton_, she would acquiesce. Emma, of course, would accompany them to Chiswick.
When they had returned to Great Marlborough Street, Elizabeth
waited until she and Maria were in their bedchamber. "I quite liked the Earl of Coventry. It is easy to see that he is ready to lay his heart at your feet."
"I much prefer _your duke_ to _my earl_. Perhaps I'll steal him!"
"He isn't _my_ duke!" Elizabeth protested. "Coventry is a far more amiable gentleman and would be more amenable, I believe."
"But I would much rather be a duchess than a countess, and it would be far more fun bringing a duke to heel than an earl."
"It isn't a game, Maria."
"Between a man and a woman, it is always a game. And it is a game I shall win, because I set my own rules!"
_Mother sets the rules_. "You shouldn't pit two friends against each other."
"Whyever not? I love men to fight over me. Tonight, my beauty almost caused a riot!" Maria was inordinately pleased.
_Her vanity blinds her to Mother's manipulation._
"White's or the Kit-Cat Club?" Hamilton asked Coventry before they climbed into the carriage.
"Drop me off at home, if you don't mind, James. I'm preparing a speech for the House tomorrow."
"Bolton Street
." Hamilton gave his coachman the address of Coventry's townhouse then climbed in after his friend.
"Well, what do you think?" George asked eagerly.
"The Gorgeous Gunnings! Indeed, you did not exaggerate their beauty. There wasn't a man at the theater who wouldn't have given his left ball to be in our shoes tonight! Pity the mother is such a fucking dragon. Knows the value of her merchandise, I'm afraid."
They soon arrived in Bolton Street
. As Coventry climbed from the carriage he asked, "Will I see you at Almack's, James?"
"_Almack's_? I'd as soon be buried alive, George!"
At Sundridge, John Campbell, who had been debating with himself for the past two days, finally summoned his secretary to Combe Bank's library. "Robert, how would you feel about a quick trip to Ireland? I need some inquiries made and know I can count on your discretion."
"I am completely at your service, Lord Sundridge." Hay grinned. "The Irish Sea should be free from gales until late October."
"I would like you to visit County Mayo and make inquiries about Theobald Burke, Viscount Mayo, or, more precisely, about his daughter, Bridget."
Hay wrote down the information his lordship required.
"Then I need you to travel to County Roscommon and make inquiries about the family of John Gunning, who own Castle Coote."
"Is there anything in particular you wish to know, my lord?"
"Just general information. Their social connections--where the Gunnings stand in the pecking order, that sort of thing. Take a good look at the castle and its landholdings to see how well it prospers." John picked up the invitation to Chiswick and banished the twinge of guilt he felt. "I'll have your money and maps ready by the time you are packed." He scribbled his acceptance across the invitation
and set it with his other letters to be posted.
On Wednesday when Elizabeth opened her eyes, her very first thought was that she was finally seventeen. Her second thought was that she would see John Campbell this weekend at Chiswick. Both thoughts filled her with happiness.
Maria forgot that it was her sister's birthday and at breakfast chattered on about her upcoming visit to Almack's this evening. "Did you know that it is absolutely _de rigueur_ to arrive at Almack's after eleven o'clock? May I stay until dawn, Mother?"
"We shall take our cue from the Countess of Burlington. When she decrees it time for Lady Charlotte to leave, we shall leave. That way, we are guaranteed a ride home, since we _still_ don't have a carriage of our own. Ah, Jack, there you are. Almack's has a gaming room. Are you planning on joining us tonight?"
"No, I plan to take Elizabeth out for a birthday supper." He dropped a kiss on his younger daughter's golden curls and gave her a scroll wrapped with ribbon. "Happy birthday, my beauty. I'm sorry I couldn't buy you the ball gown I promised."
Elizabeth unwrapped the scroll and smiled with delight. "It's a Virgo horoscope! How lovely! Thank you, Father."
"Everyone knows a Virgo is a paragon of virtue!" Maria said sweetly. "To say nothing of being demure and always proper."
"Maria, you would do well not to sneer at such qualities. Gentlemen find them enchanting," her father said pointedly. "Go on, read it aloud. Give us a list of your virtues, my beauty."
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at Maria and began to read. "A Virgo is conscientious, tactful, thoughtful, and endearingly sincere. A Virgo also is punctual, prudent, unfailingly discreet, and knows how to keep secrets. She loves animals, nature, and writing poetry. She is modest, self-effacing, yet ultra feminine."
"Enough virtues! Read us your vices, Elizabeth," her mother said.
"A Virgo arrogantly applies her lofty standards to others. A Virgo has skittish emotions and fragile nerves. High-strung Virgo requires harmony and tranquillity to thrive. She often daydreams and indulges in fantasies that try the patience."