Phantasmagoria

by Madelynne Ellis

  You must speak to Alicia, she counselled herself. They’d been exchanging letters all summer, but for some reason she’d always kept Edward’s identity a secret. Had he really courted her friend too, and deserted her? Vaughan had no reason to lie.

  A twig snapped on the path outside and a moment later the boathouse door opened. ‘Niamh?’

  Henry stepped onto the mossy step. ‘Foster told me I might find you here.’

  She watched the water lap about his buckled shoes. They were embroidered with silver threads in an elaborate pattern of swirls. ‘Am I wanted?’

  He nodded so that his hound’s-locks shrouded his face. ‘Sorry. Vaughan sent me to find you. I’ve put it off as long as I could. Did a whole circuit of the lake but I daren’t risk any longer for you.’

  ‘I understand.’ She rose and accepted his hand to step out of the rowing boat. ‘Thank you.’

  Henry kept tight hold of her hand until they were safely out of the boathouse. Outside the mist clung to the fields and danced like steam across the surface of the lake. The castle was a fuzzy grey silhouette. With equally soft steps, they began along the pathway. ‘You’re troubled about something. Anything I can help with?’

  Niamh glanced up at him but avoided making eye contact. She was loath to admit anything of Vaughan’s sin, and even less inclined to discuss her own worries, but Henry’s presence comforted her. ‘Do you think everything will go well tonight?’

  ‘Tonight?’ The surprise rang clear in Henry’s voice. He didn’t believe she was worried about the party. ‘Of course. Everything has been carefully planned.’

  ‘And after that?’ she said, looking at her toes.

  He stopped and swung his cane up into his hand. ‘I’m not sure what you’re asking me. And I don’t like to predict your brother. He’s a conniving sod, but he’s ruled by his emotions.’

  ‘Henry, does everybody know?’ she blurted.

  ‘About?’ Henry cocked an eyebrow but his expression was sober.

  ‘Him and Lord Marlinscar. Is it common knowledge? You know what I’m asking you, don’t you?’

  His tongue wetted his rouged lips, which he then rubbed thoughtfully together. ‘There’s no sense in worrying about it,’ he said, avoiding the question but answering it well enough all the same. He took her hand and patted it, then laid it on his sleeve and began walking again. ‘What was, is done. Save your thoughts for your friend Bella. She’s hurting.’

  ‘Has it ended between them too?’

  Henry took a breath and held it. ‘I’m not certain.’

  Flustered, Niamh paced forward, shaking her head. ‘It won’t have. He doesn’t know how to let go, not properly. It’s why he keeps everyone at a distance, so he doesn’t get too attached. He’ll just run away from everything again.’ Maybe even back to the Continent, she added to herself.

  ‘Hush, now. I have an idea but I need your help. We’ll help Vaughan to see things the way we see them.’

  She gazed up at him in puzzlement.

  ‘Later, m’dear.’ He wrapped a comforting arm about her shoulders. ‘For now, worry about yourself and your man.’ His voice sounded strained as he spoke, as if he had to force himself to sound reasonable. ‘You should do whatever it takes to make you happy.’

  That was a problem. She didn’t know what would make her happy any more. The issue with Alicia aside, she no longer felt so sure that marrying Edward would do so. His touch excited her, but the glow faded quickly when they were apart, and the touch of another might elicit much the same.

  ‘Henry, would you do something for me?’ she asked. ‘You might think it a strange request.’

  He forced a laugh but the oppressive mist seemed to steal his humour. ‘You certainly know how to make a man curious.’

  ‘I wondered if you’d kiss me.’

  ‘What?’ He swung abruptly, so that he stepped in front of her and stared at her. ‘ God’s blood, woman! Do you know what you’re asking? I’ve no death wish.’

  She pressed a hand to his enormous lapel. ‘You needn’t worry about Vaughan. No one need ever know.’

  His unease remained etched in the powdered lines of his face. ‘I swear if we were in London and you made that request, you’d get more than you bargained for, but here, on this day,’ he glanced warily at the shadowy castle, ‘he’s likely to skin me.’

  She looked down in disappointment.

  Henry sighed. ‘I never said I wouldn’t do it.’ He placed his hands firmly upon her shoulders, then ran his thumb up her neck to her chin. ‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  ‘Why not?’

  It was his turn to look uncomfortable. ‘Because, sweet Niamh, one kiss won’t be nearly enough.’

  17

  HENRY’S KISS TINGLED on her lips long after they parted. Niamh had walked past her brother and into the castle with a smirk on her face she couldn’t repress. Poor Henry, he’d looked positively terrified, as if Vaughan would read what they’d done in their expressions.

  Henry tasted of sugar and rouge. He wasn’t demanding like Edward, whose kisses had been all probing heat and lazy gratification of his own desires. Henry explored her mouth gently, his touch whispery light and coaxing. He didn’t claim or conquer. Henry never demanded more than she was prepared to give.

  She’d meant the kiss as an experiment to help define her own feelings, not expecting the slow melding of their mouths to bring such a rush of joy. When they’d parted, she’d had to untangle herself from his oversized clothes, and sticky heat had bathed her body. She hadn’t really wanted to let go.

  There was an entire ensemble of rakehells in the great hall, all stretched out across sofas and perched within the window bays. There were no women about. They’d all retired to their rooms to prepare for the evening. Feeling decidedly like a lamb set free among a pack of slavering wolves, she headed for the safety of her bedchamber.

  ‘Milady.’ Her maid was there laying out her clothes. She thrust a note into Niamh’s hand. ‘The butcher’s boy brought it from the village about an hour gone.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Niamh cracked the wax seal, then settled upon the striped chaise longue to read. ‘Would you find Alicia for me?’

  The hand was Edward’s.

  Beloved Niamh,

  Be assured that I am well despite your brother’s best efforts. Fear not for your safety. I will deliver you from his tyranny. I’ll come tonight and we can be wed. The special licence is already arranged. Be ready to fly.

  Your devoted servant,

  Edward

  ‘No!’ She clasped the paper to her lips, then ran to the fire and cast it into the flames. He musn’t come for her tonight or any night. Had she not told him a thousand times that she wouldn’t elope with him, even before Vaughan had sown the seeds of doubt in her mind?

  A treacherous memory reared in her mind. Edward’s hand across her lips. Had he wanted to stifle her cries?

  There was a knock at the door. ‘ Come,’ she said, as she rubbed at her hands as if to remove invisible ink from her fingers.

  ‘Niamh, what is it?’ Alicia Allenthorpe scampered to her side and peered curiously at Niamh’s hands. ‘I was half out of my frock ready to start to dress for this evening. Aunt Beatrice has an entire beauty regime worked out that she swears is effective at capturing husbands. I think she intended it just for Fortuna, but she’s horribly out of sorts today and just keeps saying that lotions won’t help.’

  Niamh bit her lip and almost rescinded on her intention. Her friend was so excited about the party, it seemed horrid to inflict such a vile question on her, but she had to know the truth. ‘Do you know a man named Edward Holt?’

  The truth was plain in Alicia’s eyes. Storm clouds swept through their dancing blue depths. The colour drained from her face. ‘I do.’ She clasped her hands before her and squeezed tight. ‘I do. Though I’d prefer not to speak of him. He seemed so gallant.’ She turned away from Niamh’s stare and raised her clasped hands to her lips. ‘Everyone e
xpected him to propose at the ball we held for Mae’s coming out. He’d been courting me so diligently and he made everybody laugh. When he failed to appear, I thought he’d taken ill. I expected a letter would arrive explaining.’ She shook her head solemnly. ‘Nothing. Then we heard he was wooing some other girl in the country.’

  ‘Me,’ said Niamh.

  Alicia stared at her in disbelief. ‘You?’

  Niamh inclined her head. ‘I’m afraid it’s true, though I swear I had no idea until last night. You never mentioned him in your letters.’

  ‘Nor you in yours.’ Alicia’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Edward is your mysterious gentleman? I never explained what happened because you sounded so happy and I didn’t want to spoil it with my woes. I felt such a fool too. Everyone thought the worst of me, as if it were my fault he’d cast me off.’

  She reached out behind her and sought the comfort of the chaise, into which she sank. Niamh dropped to her knees beside her friend, feeling her pain as if it were her own, and in many ways it was. ‘I wish I’d known sooner.’

  Alicia embraced herself. ‘Did he propose to you?’

  ‘Yes, but Vaughan wouldn’t give his approval and I refuse to elope, but Edward doesn’t seem to listen.’ She searched a moment for the letter she’d already burned. ‘Alicia, you have to help me. He’s coming here, tonight, intent on carrying me off.’

  ‘Tonight!’ Alicia’s stoicism dissolved in to a pool of anguish. ‘But you won’t go with him?’

  ‘Of course not, but I don’t want my brother to shoot him either.’

  ‘Maybe he’d pass unnoticed among so many guests.’

  Niamh shook her head and marched to the window, which she cast open. ‘They’re all Vaughan’s friends. Not a good crowd if truth be told. It’s bound to turn nasty.’

  Still on the chaise longue, Alicia hugged herself a little tighter, so her chin pushed into the V made by her arms. ‘I’ll help, of course, but I don’t see what I can do.’

  ‘Write him a letter. I’ll write one too. He won’t want to face us both. That should keep him away.’

  Alicia’s terrified frown only deepened. ‘I’ll do it, but if the threat of facing your brother isn’t enough to keep him away, I doubt a note from me will thwart him. Can’t you just tell the footmen not to let him in?’

  ‘Oh, Alicia, if only it was that simple, but I doubt he’s going to come to the door.’

  ‘Then what about asking your friend, Miss Rushdale, if she has any ideas, for I have none.’

  ‘Bella. I haven’t told her. I’m not really sure where she is,’ said Niamh. ‘Such an awful lot happened last …’ She shut her mouth when a spark of interest lit in Alicia’s eyes. ‘Yes, maybe you’re right. I’ll ask Bella’s advice.’

  But Bella proved rather difficult to find. She didn’t show for dinner, but neither did Vaughan, Henry or de Maresi, and Fortuna only showed under duress. It was difficult to know what was going on, who was hiding and who was involved in preparations for the evening’s entertainment. Niamh sent notes from herself and Alicia to Edward and hoped they would stop him. Her only other recourse was to warn Vaughan of his forthcoming arrival, and that seemed distinctly unwise.

  Later, she came across Vaughan in the solar, while the other gentlemen were taking port in the great hall. The ladies were assembled in the lower parlour under the stern eyes of Mrs Alvanley, awaiting an invitation to the entertainments.

  ‘Will it be long?’ Niamh asked.

  Henry stepped out of the shadows by the library door and greeted her. ‘Soon, I think,’ he said.

  She blushed on seeing him, the memory of his kiss a sweet ache in her chest. He made her feel something Edward never had, both excited and strangely safe.

  He’d dressed in his most exquisite ensemble for the evening, a candy-striped pink and blue satin suit, with a frothy cravat that, when unfurled, was probably the length of the room.

  With some difficulty, she tore her gaze away from him and focused instead on her brother. ‘What are you doing?’ She leaned over his arm to get a glimpse of the decanter he was holding.

  Vaughan looked slyly at her from beneath his eyelashes and swirled the decanter so that the liquor inside sloshed about. Seemingly satisfied with the results, he poured a glass and offered it to her.

  Henry drew a little closer and gave a wary shake of his head.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replied.

  Vaughan shrugged and raised the glass to her in a salute. ‘Death and decadence,’ he said and knocked back the ruby liquid. ‘Let’s summon the revellers, Tristan.’

  From the moment she’d left Raffe in the rain that morning, Bella’s thoughts had wandered in a perpetual loop: Vaughan, Raffe, Lucerne, Louisa. There was no beginning and no end, only a spiral of gloom. She’d slept away the afternoon cocooned in a nest of blankets and had woken an hour ago, stiff and hungry, when Niamh’s maid had arrived to dress her for the evening’s entertainment.

  Now she stood just inside the door to her room in a snowy evening gown with her hair dressed in intricate loops, preparing herself to face Vaughan and his guests. She could hear them in the hall below, even recognised some of their voices from engagements in London. They were lecherous rogues to a man.

  The women were clearly assembled elsewhere, the solar or the lower parlour she guessed. ‘Give me strength,’ she said, glancing at the pile of Louisa’s letters on the dressing table. Then head held high, she glided onto the balcony and down the stairs into the pack.

  There weren’t so many of them as she’d anticipated, but still enough to make her uncomfortable, and the only friendly face among them was Raffe, whose eyes she deliberately avoided. Part of her wanted to dismiss his proposal as nonsense spoken in the heat of his own orgasm, but she knew that he’d intended it as genuine.

  His gaze, along with those of others who undressed her more blatantly, followed her progress across the room. Never had the great hall seemed so huge. She was almost safe when de Maresi stepped forwards and blocked her way.

  ‘Morue,’ he drawled, ‘what a shame to still find you here. We heard you’d departed.’

  Tight-lipped, Bella met his hostile gaze.

  ‘Don’t think that the competition thinning changes anything.’ His lips stretched into a nasty smirk. Clearly, with Lucerne now categorically out of the way, the overscented tulip had decided to up his claim.

  ‘You’re deluding yourself,’ she hissed. ‘Even the ghost of Lucerne is more than you can compete with.’

  His narrow nostrils flared, and his composure dissolved in an abusive snarl: ‘Connasse.’

  Bella didn’t stay to exchange any more pleasantries. She pushed past the raging silken butterfly, only to find her progress hampered by a second picket.

  ‘Pennerley’s sent us an aperitif.’

  ‘Didn’t I eat you once before?’ they teased. Connelly and Dovecote, she recognised, flanked by the flame-haired Darleston twins; four-fifths of the assemblage Vaughan had served her to on a silver platter.

  ‘Where’s Marlinscar tonight? I hear he’s abandoned you. Got himself a nice new filly. Not so well used.’ The remark came from the elder of the twins, who moved in behind her to roll his loins against her bottom.

  ‘I heard it wasn’t a filly,’ drawled his brother, whom they called Neddy. She’d never enquired why. His real name was Alberic.

  ‘You must be distraught, either way.’ A hand stretched across her shoulder and tugged at the lace fichu covering the upward swell of her breasts. Bella slapped them away, but the four of them had her surrounded.

  ‘Let her be, you wretched meatmongers.’ Raffe forced his way into the circle. ‘Is that any way to talk to a lady?’

  ‘Depends on the lady,’ chirped Connelly.

  Bella scowled at him, and then at Raffe. If she didn’t manage one last trick with Vaughan tonight then she might well have to accept his offer. But she didn’t want him setting himself up as her protector for the night. She was perfectly capable of manag
ing alone.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she snapped, and she jammed her fan into Connelly’s chest, forcing a yelp of protest from his lips.

  The other men laughed, but parted just enough to let her pass between them and out of the circle, although hands closed over her bottom and squeezed as she did so. Bella spun to face them with a snarl, and then backed towards the door, only to find herself bruising her bottom on another hard male body.

  His scent washed through her like a balm. Bella spun around to find Vaughan poised before her, his dark eyebrows quizzically raised. ‘Still with us,’ he said.

  ‘You invited me to a party.’

  Vaughan inclined his head. ‘Ah, yes, you must stay for that. I see the bucks are quite as enthralled with you as ever.’

  Though a deal less enthralled than they’d been the moment before his arrival, she noted. Cowards, she thought. None of you dare risk his wrath, you’re all too afraid for your skins.

  ‘My lord,’ said Bella. She curtsied politely, prompting another eyebrow raise from Vaughan.

  He was all snaky hips and firm thighs this evening, his coat dark and his shirt impossibly snowy. She wanted to grab him, shake him, prove to him with her body that if they didn’t have each other, then they had nothing.

  Despite the pain his rejection had caused, she still wanted him. He was just hurting and she was easy target. If they could be left alone together, maybe they could work through this.

  She reached out to him, but he raised the two decanters he was holding like a barricade.

  ‘You never offered your condolences,’ she said.

  Vaughan stared at her but his violet eyes were slightly glazed, as if he were looking at her through an opaque film. ‘You never offered yours.’ With a strange roll of his hips, he wriggled around her so that they bodies didn’t touch and joined the other men.

  Heart in her mouth, Bella moved into the dingy safety of the corridor, where she pressed her back to the wall. Why was she torturing herself like this? Did she really need an evening of ghosts and phantasms to scare her? She was already half out of her wits.