In another fortunate turn of events, Madeline managed to gain another friend and ally. Tess Blanchard, the other part-time teacher at the Freemantle Academy, returned home to Chiswick, having spent the past fortnight in Brighton at a house party.
Tess was a stunning beauty with luxurious sable hair and a carriage that boasted unmistakable gentility. She appeared to be slightly younger than Madeline, about Roslyn’s age of two and twenty. Tess’s flawless complexion and figure, too, lit an irrepressible spark of envy in Madeline’s breast. Yet her smile was kindness itself when Madeline first met her at the academy between classes.
“Please let me know if I may help you in any way, Lady Haviland,” Tess said at once. “I am in your debt, since you assumed my teaching responsibilities while I was away.”
“I was glad for the opportunity,” Madeline responded, drawn in by the beauty’s warmth, “but I wish you would call me Madeline. I am not at all accustomed to being addressed by formal titles.”
“I will,” she agreed readily, “if you will call me Tess. As I was saying, I am grateful to you, since your arrival allowed me to spend time with my cousin Damon, Lord Wrexham. Damon recently wed Lord Danvers’s younger sister Eleanor, and I am his only remaining close family.”
“So I heard. Actually, Arabella and Jane have told me a great deal about you.” Madeline had heard most about the charities that Tess had devoted herself to since losing her beloved betrothed in the Battle of Waterloo two years ago. “Your charitable endeavors are so very admirable.”
Tess flashed another warm smile. “Your husband has contributed generously in the past, but now that you are here, perhaps I might persuade you to become involved and utilize your role as Countess of Haviland. It is amazing how influential an aristocratic title can be when soliciting charitable donations.”
“Yes, indeed. I would like that very much.”
Tess paused, giving her a considering look. “Arabella mentioned that Fanny Irwin has been advising you. Pray don’t be alarmed,” she said when Madeline looked taken aback. “Belle didn’t betray your confidences. It is just that she has been pressing me to ask Fanny for help with my own situation.”
“Your situation?” Madeline asked curiously.
“My unmarried state.” Tess uttered a rueful laugh. “Arabella is so enamored of her own wedded bliss that she wants me to find the same happiness. I have known Fanny for several years now, but I never thought to enlist her help in plotting affairs of the heart. It was clever of you, Madeline.”
“It was Arabella’s idea,” she admitted.
Tess lowered her voice to a confidential undertone. “If it is not too forward of me to ask, have any of Fanny’s method’s worked?”
“It is too early to tell just yet,” Madeline answered truthfully, “but I still have high hopes. And there is no doubt that Fanny improved my confidence immeasurably—which was no small feat, given how impossibly naïve I was when it came to dealing with the male sex.”
“Thank you,” Tess said earnestly. “I am out of mourning now and determined to move on with my life, so employing Fanny’s expertise seems a wise plan.”
Since Jane Caruthers joined them, Madeline had no more chance for conversation with Tess just then, but she was greatly looking forward to becoming better acquainted with her intriguing fellow teacher.
On another front entirely, Madeline had to deal with two other members of Rayne’s family. It came as a bit of a surprise when his two sisters called at Riverwood the following afternoon without any advance warning.
They were there to inspect her and take her measure, Madeline suspected, regretting that once again Rayne was absent, ha
ving left for London that morning.
As she made her way to the drawing room where Bramsley had ushered the ladies to wait for her, Madeline tried to recall what she’d learned about them in the past week of her marriage. Penelope was older than Rayne by two years, Daphne younger by about the same. The sisters had each married baronets, which made Penelope, Lady Tewksbury, and Daphne, Lady Livermore.
They were both handsome women, Madeline saw upon entering, with raven hair and blue eyes like their brother, although not nearly as tall. Both were perched stiffly on their chairs, as if reluctant to settle in for too long. And at first glance they looked as haughty and imperious as their grandmother, the dowager Countess of Haviland.
They also appeared unwilling to welcome Madeline with any more enthusiasm than had their noble relative. Judging from their chill greetings, their grandmother had not relented in her opposition to her, Madeline realized with a sinking heart; she simply was not considered good enough to be admitted into the family.
She smiled politely, however, and kept her own tone amiable as she welcomed the sisters to Riverwood and expressed pleasure in meeting them.
When she asked if they would care for refreshments, Penelope responded tersely. “Thank you, no. We will not be staying. We merely wished to see what sort of female our brother chose to wed.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “I confess you are a surprise.”
“Oh, how so?”
“You are significantly older, for one thing.”
Madeline kept her lips closed to keep herself from retorting.
“We supposed Haviland knew what was due his family name, but unfortunately we were mistaken.”
Daphne spoke up then. “It is also because Rayne is not the marrying kind, and we didn’t think he would ever succumb, despite our grandmother’s most persuasive efforts. Penelope and I both wed shortly after our comeouts, as expected of young ladies, but Rayne has resisted matrimony all these years.”
“I did not have a comeout,” Madeline admitted pointedly, “so I had little opportunity to meet eligible gentlemen.”