Lady Smallwood shuddered. "It's purple and turquoise stripes embroidered with jet beads… and I believe there's a braided fringe at the hem and a matching fringe at the neckline… falling over the shoulders in place of sleeves. I could imagine it would look most striking on some women, but not on Chloe, and it's quite unsuitable for a debutante."
"It's dashing," Chloe said. "I wish to look dashing."
"Not while you're in my wardship," Hugo stated flatly, getting to his feet. "We are now going to return the spencer and the bonnet and the flowers, and we are going to visit the modiste and cancel the evening dress. You may choose something more suitable under my guidance, since you reject that of your chaperone."
"No!" his ward exclaimed, fired to more than usual vehemence. "I won't take them back. Why should you know better than I do, Hugo?"
"I wish I knew," he said, sighing. He addressed his cousin. "Ma'am, I should beat a retreat if I were you; I have a feeling this is about to become ugly."
Lady Smallwood looked from Chloe's set face and indignant eyes to Hugo's calm but determined features and took the advice. She had found Chloe's will impossible to bend and her views utterly resistant to guidance. So it was with relief that she handed the matter over to the clearly stronger hands of the girl's guardian.
"Hugo, why must you be so stuffy?" Chloe broke out as soon as the door closed on her chaperone. "Why can't I wear what I wish to wear?"
"Because what you wish to wear, lass, is completely unsuitable," he said. "I do not understand why you should have been born without the first inkling either of
what suits you or is socially appropriate, but sadly it seems to be the case. Therefore you must learn to accept the judgment of those who know better."
"I don't," Chloe said mutinously, stroking the silk sleeves of the spencer. "I think I look very sophisticated in this… and I will not cancel the evening dress and buy some wishy-washy pastel thing, whatever you say."
"Oh, Chloe, don't throw down the gauntlet," he said, cajoling. "It will make everything so uncomfortable." He held out a hand. "Come, kiss and make up, and we'll go out and choose a truly beautiful gown. It doesn't have to be wishy-washy."
Chloe stood unmoving, her dislike of quarreling with Hugo warring with her absolute resistance to submitting to him over this. She'd been long enough in London now to know what sophisticated women wore, and it didn't suit her plans for Hugo to insist upon seeing her as a youthful debutante. He had to realize she was quite mature enough and sufficiently up to snuff to make him a perfectly suitable wife despite the difference in their ages. She was no fluttering virgin, after all. So why should she dress like one?
"I don't see why I should have to suffer your interference in something as personal as my wardrobe," she said finally. "I spend all my life in brown serge, and then I ought to be able to buy whatever I like, and everything I like you tell me I can't have. It's not just."
Hugo sighed and gave up conciliation. "Just or not, lass, it's the way it is. While I hold the reins, I'm afraid you'll run as I choose, in this as in everything. Now, let's be on our way." He went to the door, leaving Chloe fighting chagrin in the library.
She stomped after him into the hall, where he was instructing Samuel to bring around his curricle. "I don't see why you need me to go with you, since I'm not
allowed to have an opinion. It's just a waste of my time."
Both Hugo and Samuel blinked at her unusually petulant tone. Then Hugo said blightingly, "Don't be such a brat."
Chloe flushed and turned away, swallowing tears as her tone and words replayed in her head. It was no wonder Hugo refused to consider marrying her. What grown man would want to many a petulant brat?
Hugo regarded her averted back and drooping head with a slight smile. Castigating a seventeen-year-old for being seventeen seemed hardly just. "Hey!" he said softly.
She turned slowly to face him. "I'm sorry."
"Go and fetch your hat and we'll do some proper shopping. I promise you won't be disappointed."
"I shall be," she said, but with a clear effort to make it sound humorous.
Resigned, Chloe accompanied him outside to where his curricle waited at the curb. Hugo had agreed to purchase a curricle and pair, and a barouche and pair for Chloe and her duenna. Society would look askance at anything less in a fashionable household, but he was very uncomfortable with his own extremely expensive acquisition paid for from his ward's fortune.
He was just handing her up, when a shout of greeting came from two horsemen farther up the street.
"Oh, it's Gerald and Miles," Chloe said, waving. "I forgot we were going riding."
The two young men drew rein, bowing from their mounts. "Good afternoon, sir." They greeted Hugo punctiliously, but their eyes were on Chloe.
"Miss Gresham was kind enough to agree to ride in the park," one of the two said somewhat disconsolately. "Have you changed your mind, Chloe?"
"I'm afraid her guardian is decreeing a prior claim,"
Hugo said with an easy smile at the two youngsters. They wore impossibly starched cravats and shiny curly beaver hats and they were fresh-faced and glowing with health and energy.
A fleeting thought of himself at that age crossed his mind. He'd been taking his pleasures with the Congregation. No fresh-faced innocent he. Haggard and heavy-eyed most of the time, his mind smudged with the herbal substances and alcohol, his body surfeited with sensual excesses.
"We have to go shopping," Chloe was explaining. She glanced at Hugo, and that chill crept up her spine again. He had the look she dreaded. She laid a hand on his arm and he seemed to haul himself back from whatever grim territory he inhabited at those times.
"Necessary errands, I'm afraid," he said, nodding at the two horsemen. "I'm sorry to disrupt your plans."
"Oh, not at all, sir," Miles Payton said, although he didn't sound convinced. "Perhaps tomorrow, Chloe?"
"Yes, tomorrow afternoon," Chloe said. "And I shan't permit anything to prevent it… not even Sir Hugo." She looked up at them through the thick fringe of her eyelashes, her mouth curved in an entrancing and utterly inviting smile.
Hugo reflected that while he'd told her to flirt, he hadn't somehow expected her to take to it with such alacrity, or to evince such expertise. He wasn't in the least surprised at the melting looks of her two prospective swains.
"Up you get," he said, putting a hand under her elbow.
Chloe jumped into the curricle with a speed that did nothing to diminish the grace of her movements. "But I'll see you af Almack's tonight," she called as Hugo gave his horses the office to start.
"You promised me the first waltz," Gerald said, mov-
ing his horse alongside the curricle as they trotted down the street.
"No, you promised it to me," Miles said hotly, ranging himself on the other side.
Hugo raised his eyebrows, wondering how long he was going to have this rivaling escort. "You'd better settle the dispute quickly, lass, before we turn onto Park Street. It's too narrow for outriders."
"I really can't remember," she said, laughing. "Why don't you toss a coin and I'll accept the result, as I trust you will."
They turned onto Park Street and their escort fell back. "Shame on you," Hugo said amiably. "Of all the flirtatious moves, offering two men the same dance is quite the most unseemly."
"Oh, but I'm sure I didn't," she said with a complacent smile. "They're always quarreling over me. Anyway, I thought my suggestion was a very fair one."
"Very fair," he agreed. "I'm glad to see you've recovered your good humor."