Chapter 14 - Replacing Cobaea with Summer Mistletoe

As this is a Regency story, there is bound to be some AU-ness and OOC-ness. Please bear with me. Emphases are in italics and titles of books &ca are underlined. This story places great stress on the significance and meanings of flowers.

Language of Flowers

Chapter 14 – Replacing Cobaea with Summer Mistletoe

At five o'clock that evening, Lord Villiers called in at Lord Sterne's townhouse to offer his lordship an apology for having kept him waiting. Since Sterne was then busily employed with all the preparations for his latest alchemical experiment, the young Marquess's visit was ill-timed. Filch or Rosier, the footman, would have informed Lord Villiers that Lord Sterne was not at home, but since Filch was heavily engaged in picking out and preparing his master's evening dress for the following night's rout party; and Rosier, assisted by the house elves, was moving his lordship's newly arrived shipment of books to the library, the door was opened to Lord Villiers by a very junior ranked house elf whose flustered attempt to deny her master he had no difficulty in overbearing. He said, with the certain air of his father's handsome condescension which awed her very much, that he imagined Lord Sterne would grant him a few minutes of his time and walked past her into the house. She started back before this determined entry,* excusing herself, later to Filch, who severely took her to task (with a threatened flogging), by saying that Lord Villiers had walked through her as though she was not there. There seemed to be nothing for it but to show him into the antechamber and to scurry away in search of her master. She found him, after an abortive search of the upper floors, in what he called 'the dungeons', pouring over his cauldron and parchments, so that Villiers was left to kick his heels for a considerable time before he was ushered into Lord Sterne's presence.

Lord Sterne was in no very good humour and after the barest of greetings, told his godson that he could spare him only half an hour at most, having a great deal of work to do and begged that he would state his business with him without loss of time.

Though Villiers answered in a manner calculated to disarm his host, he soon realised that he did nothing but incurred the older man's irritation. "I shall not detain you long. You wanted to see me? I was occupied on an errand for my mother."

Sterne made a sound of acknowledgement at his godson's presence and gestured him to sit. "Have you read the on-dit pages today?"

"I pay no attention to the slanders printed therein."

"Then you will be informed that you have nearly ruined a lady's reputation."

"See here, Godfather, I have not returned to the dissipated calf-love lifestyle I used to lead. There is no need to remind me of my past!"

Sterne raised a brow and bared his teeth in a knowing dangerous smile. "Then, it pleases me to be the first." Observing the indignation emanating from young man, he added, "Save your temper, I have not the time to throttle you today. You may be glad that you will be able to remedy your mistake. Undoubtedly, you are aware that Miss Granger's reputation has been called into question due to our own selfish neglect."

"How can that be?"

"Tut, tut, Draco, you are getting forgetful. You have been using Miss Granger as a screen through which you are able to conduct your amour with Lady Ginevra; so convincing was your courtship to Miss Granger that it was noticed by the ton and your mother. I too have used her abominably!" His voice came in a ragged hiss. "I pretended to dance attendance on her to free myself from Lady Sybill Trelawney. So compelling was the pursuit that Society was inclined to believe it."

"I see nothing wrong in men paying court to a woman," interpolated Villiers, "it's part of the chivalric code."

"But the on-dit has twisted this commonplace occurrence. It has painted Miss Granger as a notorious flirt playing us one against the other. Yesterday, you were seen driving her around town and to Madame Vigée-Lebrun's salon. It was speculated that she means to have you after all as you are the heir to a Dukedom."

"Stuff! Who would believe such rubbish!"

Sterne shot the young man a hard reproachful and quelling look and Villiers gave a cry of realisation. "Oh!"

"Since we are the reasons for her current 'questionable' reputation, we must do all that we can to repair it to its former state."

Villiers nodded silently in agreement, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "This could explain why she was out of temper with everyone today from Potter to myself."

"Exactly."

"What do you propose we do?"

"We should assist her in such a way that it would forward our own agendas as well. I know this will appeal to your baser instincts," Sterne dryly commented as the younger man's eyes lit up. "The denouement will occur tomorrow evening at your mother's rout party."

"I will not permit you to ruin my mother's soiree!" exclaimed Villiers hotly.

"This filial devotion is most affecting," remarked Sterne, stirring the potion in the cauldron carefully, "May I know why it has suddenly attacked you?"

"She is my mother!"

"Did you not tell me two days ago that she was an impediment to your marriage with Lady Ginevra? I must have imagined it then – my mistake," purred Sterne, flicking aside an unruly lock of lank hair.

Immediately, Villiers' eyes brightened. "Your scheme involves bringing about my marriage?"

Sterne curled his lips into a disdainful smirked and glared down his hooked nose at his godson. "I said nothing of the sort. I do recall that I asked for your presence so that we may assist Miss Granger." He bottled some of the concoction he had just brewed. "Take these and place them in all corners of the house tomorrow. There must be at least two in every room."

"What is it?"

"Insect repellent."

"Smells quite pleasant."

"Milkwort extract. Remember, Draco."

"What does it do?"

"Protect our privacy."

"The Skeeter woman is never invited to ton events, this fuss is unnecessary."

"If she is never invited, how does she become privy to the most intimate conversations?"

"I see what you mean," Villiers answered as realisation dawned on him. "Unregistered animagus? Insect?"

His godfather nodded grimly. "How your intelligence grows! I am most moved," he purred softly with a patronising look in his eyes.

"How will we salvage Miss Granger's reputation?"

"Restore, not salvage," hissed Sterne, seizing Villiers' wrists in an iron grip and inched his face closer to his godson's. "You will announce your engagement to Lady Ginevra tomorrow evening and I will step in to offer for Miss Granger, should the need arise and her reputation may be saved."

"I will be seen as crying off! And Mother will be upset," demurred Villiers while unsuccessfully attempting to pry off the older man's fingers.

"Foolish boy! You are to announce the engagement, secure your bride and clear Miss Granger's name. Once it becomes known that she was merely chaperoning Lady Ginevra during our outings, sympathy will be with her. You must speak to Miss Granger and implore her to adopt a mask of slight dejection. Because of your actions tomorrow evening, she will be seen as the wronged party and I will offer for her to put to right the rumour that she is a woman of dubious morals."

Villiers laughed uneasily, "What will you gain from this?"

"If I am fortunate, I will be able to reach her mind; if I am not, I would have tried," was the quiet answer.

"What about Mother?"

"I've written to Mallefille. You will be married under a special licence that I shall obtain as soon as I can catch hold of the Archbishop of York. You will go to your father in France and he will write to your mother."

"Capital!" applauded Villiers.

"Naturally," Sterne replied, searching the stack of papers before him. In finding one bearing his family seal, he handed it to his godson. "Give this note to Miss Granger, she will understand. She must receive this in the presence of her father tonight. Remember to inform Lady Ginevra and Miss Granger as much or as little of the plot as you see fit."

"Yes, sir," said Villiers, much awed in the solemnity with which Sterne spoke.

"Go, leave me now. I am tired."

As soon as Villiers left, Sterne slumped into a chair and hoped that nothing in his plan would go amiss.

* * *

The following day crawled slowly to the evening without any other incident than the on-dit exposé of Hermione Granger as Hiero Gravitas. Severus had been prepared to encounter displays of Miss Granger's wrath on account of his note that he had sent through Villiers the previous day. Although Villiers had despatched a note informing that Miss Granger had read the note in an impassive manner as befitted a lady of calm temperament, the young man added that she appeared thoughtful. Lord Orthod, who was shown the note, expressed his wholehearted approval of its contents. Playing over several possible scenarios in his mind as he dressed himself in his customary black, Sterne hoped that she would have enough presence of mind not to let fly at everyone who dared to question her on her identity as Hiero Gravitas.

As Lord Sterne was the earliest of the Duchess of Mallefille's guests, he was in an ideal position to observe the other guests as and when they arrived. True to his surmises, Miss Granger demonstrated her good sense and quality at her appearance for she carried herself in a haughtily aloof manner on her father's arm and greeted the Duchess with a very proper court curtsey. He found nothing to criticise in her appearance as he watched her greet Lady Ginevra and the rest of the Weasley clan. Clad in a robe of celestial blue crepe with an open front over a white satin slip, she surpassed Lady Ginevra in her sea-green gown and Miss Lovegood in bronze. He chuckled as he overheard Lord Ronald declare her magnificent. "No, nearly beautiful, Ron," amended his sister.

"Then there are a pair of us," answered Miss Granger, observing Sterne bowing to her father. "Shall we take a turn around the room and dazzle all the eligible young men here?"

Before the ladies could do so, they were accosted by the Duchess of Mallefille, resplendent in her silver gown and powdered locks. "Is it true, Miss Granger" she began in shrill excitement, "that my son is to announce his engagement this evening?"

"There is indeed going to be an announcement of an engagement, Duchess. I will not say more on the matter," Miss Granger ventured amiably, patting Lady Ginevra's hand.

"And is that dreadful rumour about you true?" continued the Duchess, unwilling to relinquish the young scholar to her penniless friend.

Miss Granger smiled slyly at the Duchess and exchanged an intelligible look with Villiers. Though her voice was good natured, her strangely glittering eyes turned to Duchess without mirth or warmth. "Which rumour? There are so many that I lose track of them!"

"How clever you are!" thrilled the Duchess, clasping her hands to her powdered bosom. "You remind me of myself when I was at the height of my bloom. There were many similar rumours about me too, but Mallefille put an end to them. Villiers would do the same by you too, I warrant. But there will be time for that, my pretty." She blinked her cold blue eyes and countered, "And now, my dear, you simply must tell me, are you really Hiero Gravitas?"

A veil of silence fell across the room and Sterne silently glided next to his godson, who was stationed near his mother. He exchanged a smirk with the young man and turned to observe the scene. All the ton was awaiting Miss Granger's answer with baited breath. At last, the lady in question replied, "It is true. I had intended to reveal all to society with my next article at Ars Chemica. My father and my friends are aware of my other identity."

The Duchess turned abruptly to her son and snapped her fingers to attract his attention, for he was engaged in a lively discussion with Lord Sterne. "Is it true, Villiers?" she asked amidst the gasps of astonishment and disbelief of the ton.

"Yes, Mother," he answered with a barely suppressed snigger. Then schooling his features into a nonchalant mask, he continued, "She has never hidden the fact that she is la Philosophe."

Not satisfied with that, she approached the Duke of Sanguine, who corroborated Miss Granger's claim. The Duke further added that he had always known she was Hiero Gravitas.

Much to the surprise of all assembled, the Duchess of Mallefille did not rant unreasonably at her son for attaching himself to a bluestocking. No, she only laughed (a little too shrilly, Sterne thought) and commented on the eccentricities of the modern youth. Inwardly, Lord Sterne sighed in relief and released the breath that he had been unconsciously holding. Part one executed, part two to go, he mused, bowing low and taking Miss Granger's arm so as to escort her father's side. However, he was blocked in this endeavour by the figures of Lords Percy and Ronald Weasley. He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Not another blasted altercation!"

"Another?" murmured Miss Granger, clearly amused. "Over Luna Lovegood's money? How very interesting."

Miss Granger, Sterne noted, proved to be correct. The two Weasley brothers were arguing heatedly over Lord de Quib's daughter. The two idiots were too busy attempting to tear each other apart to notice that their mother and Miss Lovegood' were entreating them to be civilised.

"Luna does not care a shilling for your loathsome attentions, Percy! You have never been fit enough to drive her around! Haven't you noticed that she avoids you at every turn? She is disgusted with you, Percy – revolted!" cried Lord Ronald hotly, jabbing at his brother's immaculately tied waterfall cravat.

Lord Percy laughed arrogantly and undid his brother's cravat with a deft flick of his hand. Ignoring the Duchess of Mallefille's invitation to supper in the dining parlour, Lord Percy raised his voice at his youngest brother, "I think she is disgusted with you. Look at that derision in her eyes, Ronald! She's denigrating you in her mind! She's deriding everything the rest of your family represent! Who in the right mind would settle for you? I, on the other hand, am a non-pareil and an eligible match in every way. I will have better uses for her money than you will. What will you do with it? Invest it in your pathetic Quidditch club or let her do as she chuses with it? Have you any ambition in politics? You have nothing driving you, you pathetic worm!"

"Why are you so keen on it, Lord Percy?" countered Sir Harry, restraining his friend who was trembling in anger. "You are neck deep in debt. It is only entirely expected that you should wish to marry money!"

At that accusation, the Duchess of Mallefille collapsed on a nearby sofa in what could be presumed to be a faint.

"Selfish creatures!" scolded Miss Lovegood in her self-assured quiet voice, as she clung on to her father's arm for support. Despite the fact that her face betrayed disappointment, she continued in the same placid tone, "Immobilus!" With that spell, she froze the two brothers in their tracks. "Do not I get choice on the matter? Lord Percy, I am honoured by your remarks on my fortune, but you have not recommended yourself to me in anyway. You are vulgar and worse than a cit! Here's what I think of you." She delivered a sharp resounding slap to him. Coolly turning to Lord Ronald, she said, "You are devoid of sense, honour and decorum. How do you think I feel when my opinion counts for nothing? I readily confess I was misguided in your character." Delivering him the same tribute of her handprint on his face, she promptly left for the dining room with her father.

Miss Granger raised a brow of amusement as the house elves entered to move the immobilised figures of Lord Percy and Lord Ronald to a corner where they would not be in anyone's way. "Wonders never cease. I think the Duchess of Mallefille is stirring."

"She will not rise from the sofa until Villiers announces his engagement," ventured Sterne.

Leading her companion to Villiers side, Miss Granger nudged him. "Now would be a good time to announce it."

As soon as Sterne led Miss Granger to a nearby seat where they had an excellent view of all the characters in the drama, Villiers cleared his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today is not only my noble parents' the thirty-third wedding anniversary, it is also the day of my engagement to Lady Ginevra Weasley, who has done me the honour of accepting my hand."

The crescendo of applause and congratulations was truncated by a cry of dismay from the Duchess of Mallefille as she sank into a genuine paroxysm of vapours and swooned. Unable to bear the responsibility of being a disappointment to his mother, Villiers called his man for his carriage and departed from the house.

The Duchess, being a woman of uncertain nerves, strong feeling and an even stronger constitution, soon recovered from her swoon and began abusing Miss Granger in the worst terms possible. Bowing stiffly to the Duchess, she flashed her widest grin to the distraught woman and took Sterne's arm firmly, signalling that he should lead her to the refreshment table.

"I must apologise for distrusting you; I should have known better than to distrust a caster of the sub rosa spell," she said in a conciliatory tone. "The explanation on the beetle as the on-dit columnists and Villiers words on it were entirely logical. I see it now. I apologise for my behaviour once again."

"It is forgot," he replied laconically.

"What did you think of your work this evening?" she asked curtly, glad that they were once again on speaking terms.

"It only needs one thing to crown its success," he answered lowly. "Will you consent to be my Marchioness? Tell me that I may speak to your father and I will be content."

"For money?" she laughed, hoping that he was making a joke – even if it was in poor taste.

He curled his lips scornfully, as he enveloped her hand on his arm with his other one. Carefully moderating his voice to a tone he thought bordered onto patience, he ventured, "I have become accustomed to the workings of your mind. If you consent, you can buy Hatchard's and the Temple of the Muses for all I care."

She received the abrupt declaration (for declaration it must be called) in a manner uncommon among young ladies. She threw him an arch look and said gravely, "You are either supremely confident or incredibly facile to offer me a marriage of convenience. There is no need to speak to my father when you know that I have nothing to offer you."

"It is not a marriage of convenience. It is an honourable offer," he said without pity or his habitual irony.

Her eyes danced for the briefest moment at his words, but she soon withdrew her hand from his arm, not in a gesture of coquetry, but as though she was renouncing something to which she had no rightful claim. "Do not feel obliged to offer for me out of a misguided sense of chivalry or pity."

"It is neither," he protested violently, looking straight into her impassive chocolate eyes.

"Ah," she said with a rueful turning of her lips, "for all your fine words of wisdom, you must be very sure of your answer if you are asking me."

Stunned by her pointed retort, he scowled at her. "Naturally," he purred casually.

"I have anticipated you, my lord and I will put you out of your misery by refusing you, as you would have wished. There – the charade is finished," she stated plainly, drawing back the hand that he had regained.

"You are a coward!" he remarked in solemn anger.

She turned gracefully to face him, searing him with her liquid brown eyes, and said in a neat clipped tone, devoid of emotion. "I am not the only one, my lord. I have had enough Spanish coin for one evening. Goodbye and goodnight, Lord Sterne." And with that, she left the Duchess of Mallefille's townhouse soon after with her father.

Footnotes:

Readers, you will notice that the title of the chapter contains the name of flowers/plants. This is significant to understanding the plot. While some of you may be familiar with the language of flowers, I beg you to allow for differences in interpretation. Some flowers/plants have one meaning during the time of the Regency and another during the Victorian era. My guess is that those of you familiar with this language are acquainted with the Victorian interpretation rather than the Regency one.

Naturally, there is also a deeper meaning beyond that of the flowers. What it is – I leave it to you to uncover.

(1) Cobaea means "gossip".

View it here http://www.mytho-fleurs.com/images/vivaces/cobaea%20scandens.JPG

and http://www.robsplants.com/images/portrait/PenstemonCobaea.jpg

(2) Mistletoe means "I surmount difficulties". Those of you familiar with Pliny will be aware that he wrote extensively on the magical rituals performed by Druids involving mistletoe. These priests regarded mistletoe growing on oaks as especially potent, cutting it with golden sickles and spreading their cloaks on the ground to prevent the falling sprigs from touching the earth and becoming tainted. Mistletoe was under the protection of the Norse goddess of love, Frigg, one of the myths associating the plant with fertility, from which the practice of kissing under the mistletoe may have evolved. Contrary to popular belief, it does not grow only during winter.

View it here http://www.yourdictionary.com/images/ahd/jpg/A4mistle.jpg

(3) Milkwort means "hermitage".

Milkwort was so named because it was thought to stimulate breastmilk. In his Irish Herbal (1735), K'Eogh stated that, because of its hot and dry nature, "it encourages the production of milk in nursing mothers." However, this attribute is unfounded. There is another school of thought that believes milkwort can be used to induce abortion. By the 17th century, it was used as a tea to treat respiratory problems, including chronic bronchitis, bronchial asthma and all forms of convulsive coughs. View it here http://www.british-wild-flowers.co.uk/040711%20Lake%20Vyrnwy/Milkwort,-Common-1.jpg

*(4) The phrase "She started back before this determined entry" is an example of a very popular manner of styling words between 1750 and 1900. It simply means "she was startled into moving/staggering backwards when confronted with this person's forceful (determined) way of brushing past her (or aside her)."

(5) A rose carved into or hung from a ceiling meant that the conversation held beneath it was in confidence, or sub rosa. So you see, the roses are not all above love as the romantics running around the world would have us think.

(6) Hatchard's is a bookstore. In 1797, John Hatchard (1769-1849) opened a bookshop at No. 173 Piccadilly. In 1801 he moved premises to No. 190. Later the store was moved to No. 187 where it has remained. In Hatchard's time, the shop was as much a social meeting place for the literary-minded as it was a bookshop. Residents of Albany, a very fashionable and expensive neighbourhood, just across Piccadilly, including Byron frequented the shop. The daily newspapers were always laid out on the table by the fireplace and there were benches outside for the customers' servants. He was bookseller to Queen Charlotte. There were also private tea rooms inside where the customers could take some refreshment. The firm has always held a royal warrant since that time. His son Thomas took over the store after his father's death in 1849.

(9) Lackington's Temple of the Muses was a real bookshop in Regency London. Not as famous as Hatchard's, but in those days – it was the Borders of the town. It sold books, manuscripts, music sheets. Like its modern contemporary, Borders, The Temple of the Muses had a café where customers can have refreshment. The wealthier customers could have private parlours where they could eat and do their own work and whatnot (it was a haven for writers with nowhere to write).

From 1778 to 1798, James Lackington, the bookseller, had a shop at No. 32, Finsbury Place South in the southeast corner of Finsbury Square called "The Temple of the Muses". The shop had a frontage of 140 feet and was one of the sights of London. On top of the building was a dome with a flagpole, which flew a flag when Mr Lackington was in residence. In the middle of the shop was a huge circular counter around which, it was said, a coach and six could have been driven, so large were the premises. A wide staircase led to the "lounging rooms" and the first of a series of galleries with bookshelves. The books became shabbier and cheaper as one ascended. This, the first large book emporium was the pioneer of Remaindering, buying up bulk stock from elsewhere at a bargain price and selling cheap. Every one of the thousands of books in the shop was marked with its lowest price and numbered according to a printed catalogue. In 1792, Lackington estimated his profits for the year to be about £5000. At this period, he issued more than three thousand catalogues ("A Catalogue of Books, in All Languages, and Classes of Learning, for the Years 1806-7, Now Selling for Ready Money, at the Low Prices Affixed, Warranted Complete, by Lackington, Allen, & Co. Temple of the Muses, Finsbury Square, London.") every year. In 1793 Lackington sold a fourth part of his business to Robert Allen who had been brought up in the shop. The firm of Lackington, Allen and Co. became one of the largest in the book trade, selling upwards of 100,000 volumes yearly at their very extensive premises.

Lackington issued promotional tokens with a facing bust of the proprietor (this design, which was not particularly successful, yielded place to a more orthodox profile portrait in 1795). The reverse design, used with minor modifications in both years was a figure of Fame blowing a trumpet, proclaiming Lackington's firm the cheapest booksellers in the world. The edges of these tokens usually bore advice as to redemption, on several varieties, payment was guaranteed at the "Temple of the Muses". After Lackington's retirement, his nephew continued the store. Later in the early 1800s the bookstore was sold to Jones and Company for distribution of their books and other works. The shop burned down in 1841.

(8) Bluestocking refers to a woman with unfashionably intellectual and literary interests. The term is explained in Boswell's Life of Dr Johnson, as deriving from the name given to meetings held by certain ladies in the 18th century, for conversation with distinguished literary men. A frequent attendee was a Mr Stillingfleet, who always wore his everyday blue worsted stockings because he could not afford silk stockings. He was so much distinguished for his conversational powers that his absence at any time was felt to be a great loss, and so it was often remarked, "We can do nothing without the blue stockings." Admiral Boscawan, husband of one of the most successful hostesses of such gatherings, derisively dubbed them 'The Blue Stocking Society'. Although both men and women, some of them eminent literary and learned figures of the day, attended these meetings, the term 'bluestocking' became attached exclusively, and often contemptuously, to women. This was partly because women were instrumental in organising the evenings, but also because they were seen as encroaching on matters thought not to be their concern.

(9) "Spanish coin" is a Regency phrase for false flattery.

(10) Ton, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Regency/Empire period means fashionable Society, or the fashion. It originates from the French bon ton, meaning good form, i.e. good manners, good breeding, etc. A person could be a member of the ton, attend ton events, or be said to have good ton (or bad ton). Ton can be interchangeably used with beau monde. In this story, when I spell society with a capital S (i.e. Society), I am referring to the ton.

(11) On-dit is French for "we tell". In the context of Regency speech, it meant gossip about the town that is usually published in the newspapers.