London Calling Read Free

Ruth leaned forward confidentially.
    “That’s Snell‌—‌isn’t he delicious? He came with the house, and I engaged him at once. He lends such an air of distinction to our establishment, don’t you think? He disapproves of me dreadfully, poor man‌—‌I’ve shocked him to the core at least a dozen times already this week. But he’ll settle down and get used to us.”
    Susanna surveyed her aunt and smiled. Ruth had kicked off her slippers and tucked her feet under the hem of her gown; her lace-trimmed cap was tilted slightly on the fluffy curls, and there was a thin coating of icing sugar on her fingers. She could well imagine what Snell’s opinion of his new mistress would be.
    Ruth kept up a line of sprightly, inconsequential conversation. She seemed scarcely to expect Susanna to talk, and for that Susanna was grateful. Now that she had at last arrived, the combined effects of strain and the long, cold journey were setting in, and she felt suddenly unutterably weary and thankful for the warmth of the fire and the cup of hot tea.
    She had drifted almost into a doze, lulled by the crackling flames and the gentle murmur of her aunt’s voice, when Ruth broke off all at once and looked at her over the rim of her teacup with a bright, birdlike stare.
    “And now, my dear, have you thought how we are to find your young man?”
    Susanna felt the cold tension gripping the pit of her stomach all over again. All throughout the journey, she had been trying not to wonder how, in a city of some million inhabitants, she was to go about finding one man. And moreover, one man who probably wanted nothing less than to be found.
    “I do not know,” she finally said.
    Ruth, studying her face, took pity on her. “Never mind, my dear.” She patted Susanna’s hand. “We’ll think of something. Now, to begin with, where did Sophia say she’d seen James?”
    Susanna forced herself to take a steadying breath. “She said that she had seen him at Almack’s assembly rooms. Do you think we might get word of him there? If we were to go there . . .”
    “Almack’s?” Her aunt repeated. She raised her eyebrows slightly. “My dear, you do not know what you are asking. Admission to Almack’s is the exclusive province of its lady patronesses‌—‌a kind of board of directors that determines who can and cannot attend. Half the young misses in London would kill to obtain a ticket of admission.” Then, looking again at Susanna’s face, she added, “Well, we can but try, at least. Now that I recall it, Lady Jersey does owe me a favor. I introduced her niece to young Mr. Astruthers the Season she came out, and theirs was thought one of the most brilliant matches of the year. Her gratitude may extend to an invitation. And there is an assembly there tomorrow. If I send a note to the Countess right away—” Ruth frowned meditatively, then glanced up at Susanna. “Have I your permission, my dear, to tell Lady Jersey something of your situation? I believe the romance of it all may appeal.”
    “Romance,” Susanna repeated. She smiled, if with little humor. “I suppose that is certainly one word for it.”
    “Oh, I know, my dear. But these fashionable society ladies—”
    Susanna interrupted. “It’s all right, Aunt Ruth. I am very grateful for any help you may give me. And please, tell Lady Jersey anything you like if you think it will help.”
     
     
    * * *
     
     
    When Susanna woke the next morning, golden sunlight was streaming in through the windows, and a maid in a crisp white apron and mobcap was busy drawing the curtains and laying out fresh towels on the washstand.
    Susanna sat up and looked around her. She had been too tired to notice the details of her chamber the night before, but now she saw that it was a pretty room, with lovely curls of plasterwork along the ceiling and doorways, and a carpet and curtains of pale blue.
    “Good morning, miss.” The maid, an apple-cheeked girl with a gloss of chestnut in