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By the time she arrived in Curzon Street, she had convinced herself that she wouldn’t marry Adam Savage if he were the last man on earth.
Chapter 37
“Antonia, thank Heaven you are returned!” Roz said dramatically.
Tony’s heart sank to even lower depths. Whatever else could go wrong? She had thought things couldn’t possibly get blacker.
“We have a letter from Anthony!” Roz cried.
“Anthony?” Tony murmured blankly.
“Oh, darling, he didn’t drown as we all assumed. He’s alive! What a wretched boy to make us wait so long to tell us.”
“How … where?”
“Here, read it for yourself, darling!”
Antonia’s hand shook like a leaf in the wind as she unfolded the pages to breathlessly scan her brother’s unmistakable scrawl. “My God, he’s with mother in Ceylon!” Her knees went weak with relief and she sank down upon a brocaded settee to read the amazing story of his being rescued at sea by an East Indiaman on its way to Madras, India.
The words jumped from the page. “They made me work my passage and it almost killed me at first. It was soon brought home to me what a sheltered, pampered life I had led. All in all it’s been the best thing that ever happened to me. By the time I reached India, it had made a man of me, which was a damn good thing because it was no easy matter making my way to Ceylon without a penny in my pocket. Almost half a year has elapsed since I was washed from the deck of theSeagulland it will take this letter two or perhaps even three more months to reach you in Curzon Street. I hope you haven’t been too worried about me. Ceylon is fascinating. Wish you were here. Love, Tony.”
She jumped up, laughing and crying at the same time. Rosalind and Antonia embraced joyfully. “He hopes we haven’t been too worried about him!” She went from Roz’s arms into Mr. Burke’s, the coolness between them now evaporated. “When I get my hands on him, I’m going to throttle him. He ought to have been smothered at birth!”
Mr. Burke poured three glasses of sherry to celebrate the joyous tidings and Roz actually kissed him. “It not only means we shall have Anthony back, but Antonia as well. Do please burn those hideous trousers you’ve been parading about in for months.”
Tony smiled to herself. Not everyone found her trousers hideous. “I can’t wait to tell Adam! Oh, I was right not to tell Mother Anthony had drowned. Think of all the anguish I’ve saved her.”
Roz set her empty glass down firmly. “Darling, you can’t simply drop in on a gentleman as Tony did. Half-Moon Street is a bachelor’s establishment. You’ll need a calling card and a chaperone.”
“Women come and go at Half-Moon Street as if it were a public convenience. Half the countesses and duchesses in London frequent the place.”
“But they are married ladies, Antonia. They are not bound by the strict moral code that applies to an innocent, unmarried young lady.”
“I may be unmarried, Roz, but I am not innocent. Mr. Burke will no doubt testify to that as soon as he gets you alone. There’s not much point in locking the stable door after the horse has bolted, and if you think I am going to be hidebound by society’s ridiculous strictures after enjoying total freedom, you are deluding yourself.”
Tony swept up the stairs to bathe and change before she rushed to the arms of her lover. She took special pains with her appearance and selected one of the chic outfits that had been made for her debut. It was a jonquil yellow walking dress with a matching pelisse with bishop sleeves. In Ireland she had neither powdered her hair nor worn a wig, and Adam had taken a sensual pleasure in the black cloud that cascaded about her shoulders. She would put it up, of course, for the sheer pleasure of having him take it down, but she would not cover it with white powder.
The yellow gown made her vivid and exotic. Tony painted her lips scarlet and selected a beauty patch to emphasize her right cheekbone. Then she swirled about and laughed into her mirror, thinking how absolutely delicious life was after all.
As soon as Tony had run upstairs, Roz fixed Mr. Burke with a steely gaze. “Whatever does she mean, she’s no longer innocent?”
Mr. Burke was a model of discretion. “She means, of course, that she saw far too much of the way young men behave when she masqueraded as one. I think we will have to allow her a little more freedom than other young ladies.”
“If you say so, Mr. Burke. I suppose we can rely on her good judgment.”
Mr. Burke managed not to choke on his sherry.
“All the same, I think I’ll have a discreet word with Mr. Savage and explain that Antonia is actually a woman.”
“Mr. Savage discovered that for himself, my lady.”
“Thank Heaven! As her guardian he will see the need to protect her virginity, even if she does not.”
This time Mr. Burked choked.
Antonia’s heart was singing as the carriage made its laborious progress to Half-Moon Street. She couldn’t wait for the driver to tether the horses and open the door for her, but grasped the handle firmly to open it herself. At that moment the front door of Savage’s town house opened to reveal the beauteous Georgiana Devonshire. She was wearing an outfit that must have cost the earth. It was palest blue satin, whose matching jacket was trimmed with ermine tails at shoulder and hip.
Georgiana’s powdered coiffeur, held in place by blue ostrich feathers and ermine tails, was in the prettiest disorder, and no matter how deftly her fingers tucked up the curls, they fell down again about her shoulders.
