The Baron and the Bluestocking by G. G. Vandagriff

he was not to be released from his discomfort. Miss Whitcombe-Hodge was his dinner partner.
    Casting about for some neutral topic of conversation, Christian asked, “Do you play the piano forte?”
    “What an unexpected question!” She laughed and somehow, he felt the laughter was at him and not the question itself.
    Confound her! She knew how uncomfortable she was making him.
    “Of course I do. No aspect of my education was neglected by my parents. I read both Greek and Latin, as well. And all my brothers were forced to learn piano. My mother was very proficient.”
    “You know, we are to have a recital at the school in the next couple of weeks. The patrons will be there. Miss Flynn is to play, as well as the duchess. Would you like to be included in the program?”
    She bit her lower lip. “I have not played in some time. But I suppose I have plenty of leisure to practice. It would be a good thing for the girls to see me play something. Any specific requests?”
    “The duchess is to play a something by Bach.”
    “Oh! I adore Bach. He makes such sense out of the vicissitudes of life. I shall pick up some sheet music while I am here in town to help me brush up.”
    He turned to speak to the duchess on his other side. Later, when the gentlemen joined the ladies in Lady Clarice’s drawing room, they were paid a visit by Henry Five, Lady Susannah’s tortoise. The schoolteacher was entranced by him.
    “Oh, I wish my students could see him! What a magnificent creature he is!”
    “He travels well in his basket, strapped to the top of the coach,” Lady Clarice said. “Perhaps I will bring him down one day when I am making a quick trip.”
    Her childlike enchantment left Shrewsbury in charity with Hélène Whitcombe-Hodge at the end of the evening. When he looked at her she seemed framed in an aura of child-like enjoyment, a naïve young woman, no longer a hard-edged Feminist.

{ 10 }
     
    ON THE MORNING of her third day in London, Hélène received a visit from Lady Virginia and her brother, the Baron Delacroix. Strictly speaking, he was even more handsome than Lord Shrewsbury. But whereas Lord Shrewsbury’s looks had warmth, this baron’s looks were dark and a bit forbidding.
    “Oh, Hélène, I am in transports of happiness!” Ginny declared. “My brother has offered to take you, me, and Mama to Vauxhall Gardens this evening! You will love it above all things!”
    Hélène was a bit dubious about that. “The pleasure gardens on the river?”
    “Yes! You’ve heard of Vauxhall, then?”
    “What does one do there?” she asked.
    Lord Delacroix answered in a deep voice. “I think you would find it pleasant. I have hired a box. We will dine and have a stroll through the gardens. Then there is dancing. And at midnight, a display of fireworks.”
    Dancing! She had never thought to go dancing, though her ever optimistic mother had taught all her sons and daughters how to dance.
    “It does sound enjoyable. What does one wear?”
    “An evening gown,” Ginny answered. “But you must also take a cloak. It can become chilly at night along the water. Particularly this time of year.”
    *~*~*
    In the afternoon, the duchess came calling and invited Hélène to make some calls with her. “I think it is past time that you met Lady Shrewsbury, the baron’s mother. She will have heard a lot about you from her son.”
    “Do you think so?” For some reason the idea of meeting the man’s mama made her quake. No doubt the woman shared her son’s view that she was a troublesome bit of baggage.
    “Definitely.”
    They first made calls on two of the women who helped the duchess in the soup kitchen, and talked mainly of scheduling matters. When the Season was over, it became harder to find volunteers.
    Finally they approached Lady Shrewsbury’s home. “Does the baron live with her?”
    “No. He rents a separate establishment when he is in town. This is the home he inherited with the estate, but he is of the opinion that