The Secret Hours

by Santa Montefiore

‘You’ve never told me about your American charge,’ she said.

  ‘Because you’ve never asked,’ Charlotte replied.

  This caused Arethusa a certain amount of unease. Could she really have been so impolite as to never ask her governess about herself? ‘For how long were you in America?’ she said.

  ‘I was in New York for five years.’

  ‘With the same family?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And this Tom, did he love you back?’

  Charlotte lowered her eyes. ‘He did.’

  Arethusa grinned. ‘Was he very handsome?’

  Charlotte smiled wistfully. ‘He was tall, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He was sensitive and kind, but funny too, once I got to know him. His sister was loud and opinionated and wrapped both parents around her little finger, but Tom was gentle and unassuming. He was just a very good person.’

  ‘Was it love at first sight? Did you feel as if you had been struck in the heart?’

  Charlotte laughed and her plain face ceased to be plain and lit up prettily. ‘It wasn’t at first sight, no. It was something that grew over time.’

  ‘Is there such a thing as love at first sight?’ Arethusa asked hopefully.

  ‘I do believe so. I don’t think poets make it up. They’re inspired by truth and experience. I think one would be very lucky to fall in love like that. It’s very romantic.’

  ‘When did you realize you were in love?’

  ‘I can’t recall exactly. But I do recall the way he made me feel every time he looked at me.’

  ‘How did he make you feel?’

  ‘Oh, it’s silly, really.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. I want to know.’

  Charlotte looked at Arethusa’s eager face. ‘All right. He made me feel nervous and happy. I lost the desire to eat or sleep. I became full of energy and enthusiasm. When you are in love, Tussy, the world suddenly looks beautiful. Everything in it is rendered lovelier.’ Tussy hadn’t noticed the world looking lovelier. In fact, Jonas had made her feel anxious and fearful, not nervous and happy. ‘You will find, Tussy, that when you are in love you will like who you are when you’re with him.’

  ‘Who were you when you were with Tom?’

  Charlotte’s eyes shone and she lowered her gaze bashfully, focusing on her fingers neatly knitted in her lap. ‘Tom made me feel beautiful,’ she replied softly. Arethusa frowned. Charlotte could never have been beautiful. ‘That’s the wonderful thing about love,’ she continued as if reading Arethusa’s thoughts. ‘In Tom’s eyes, I was beautiful.’

  ‘Did he want to marry you?’

  ‘He did, and I would have married him, but his parents had other ideas.’

  ‘That’s awful. Whom did he marry in the end?’

  Charlotte’s smile faded and she suddenly looked sad. ‘An heiress from Austin, Texas.’

  ‘It’s all about money, isn’t it!’ said Arethusa crossly and Charlotte assumed she was outraged on her behalf.

  ‘Money makes the world go around,’ Charlotte replied and she shrugged in the way passive people do who have no option but to accept their fate.

  ‘I think it’s wrong,’ ejected Arethusa. ‘One should marry for love. What’s the point in living if one spends one’s entire life with a man one doesn’t love, just to be comfortable and to breed children who will suffer the same dull fate when they come of age. It’s an empty, repetitive cycle and it’s mad.’

  Again, Charlotte frowned at her charge. Here was Arethusa, who had never before considered the heart or even questioned the idea of marrying for status and wealth, talking about love and the futility of living without it. She narrowed her eyes and wondered what had inspired this sudden awakening. ‘It’s the way our world works,’ she said and she tried to keep the regret out of her voice. Arethusa had to accept her fate and it was Charlotte’s job to ensure she did.

  ‘But you must have been so terribly hurt,’ said Arethusa with feeling. ‘I mean, if you loved him very much, it must have been unbearable to have had to live without him.’

  Charlotte’s cheeks coloured. She had never heard Arethusa speak with such passion, indeed she had never spoken to anyone about Tom Burnett and now Arethusa’s passion was bringing all the heartache and longing back in a torrent of memory. She put a hand on her forehead and sighed. ‘It was a long time ago,’ she said in a quiet voice.

  ‘But does one ever heal? Can the heart be mended?’ Arethusa thought of Jonas Madison and she felt a tightening in her chest. What if he wasn’t there this afternoon and instead she had to endure a banjo lesson with his brother, what then? Would she ever see him again?

  ‘Why all these questions, Tussy?’ Charlotte asked, getting up. ‘You should go for a ride in the park with Rupert. Get out into the sunshine. Really, my story happened a long time ago. I’ve forgotten all about it now.’

  ‘But you never married,’ said Arethusa. ‘Was it because of Tom?’

  ‘No, marriage is not for me.’ There was an uncomfortable pause as Arethusa watched Charlotte force a smile in a vain attempt to reflect in her expression the sentiment in her words. ‘I see you are quite well, Tussy. Why don’t you go and ask Rupert if he wants to go out?’

  ‘I’d like to go out with you, Charlotte,’ Arethusa replied. Charlotte was astonished, but also a little suspicious. She did not allow herself to feel flattered or pleased in case this was a game of Arethusa’s which would ultimately leave her feeling used and humiliated. ‘Let’s go for a walk in the park, just the two of us,’ Arethusa continued, getting up. ‘I’m frightfully bored of Rupert. I want to spend some time with you.’

  Chapter 18

  The hours seemed to drag by as Arethusa eagerly anticipated her banjo lesson with Jonas Madison. When, at last, it was time to get ready the maid helped her into one of the new dresses Augusta’s tailor in Piccadilly had fashioned for her and curled her hair onto the top of her head in a stylish Psyche knot. The dress was the prettiest shade of blue, which complemented her skin and gave her face a pleasing glow, but nothing could outshine the glow that came from within. Augusta was so excited that Arethusa was going to be in such illustrious company that she lent her her very own suite of sapphires, the size of boiled sweets, which Stoke had gifted her on their first wedding anniversary. Arethusa gazed at her reflection in the mirror and even she, who had never been very inspired by jewellery, had to admit that they were exquisite. ‘You will be the envy of them all,’ said Charlotte, feeling happier and more intimate with her charge since their walk in the park.

  ‘If they impress the Duchess and Lord Penrith, they will have done their job,’ said Augusta with satisfaction.

  Charlotte watched Arethusa’s face with interest. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled and really, she had never seen the girl look so lovely. Could it be, she wondered, that Arethusa had fallen in love with Lord Penrith?

  With her heart drumming an agitated beat in her chest Arethusa climbed into the brougham and waved goodbye to Augusta and Charlotte. ‘You don’t need to be nervous,’ said Rupert, settling languidly into the corner of the carriage and stretching out his legs. ‘Lady Alexandra is a shy little thing and her mother is no different from Augusta, only her jewellery is more expensive and she is more self-regarding on account of the title she acquired upon her marriage. Otherwise they are both cut from the same cloth.’

  ‘I’m not in the least nervous about them,’ Arethusa replied, sitting with her back straight because it was impossible to slouch in a tight corset.

  ‘I do believe you’re trembling,’ he added, running his lazy eyes over her. ‘You’re like a young horse in the starting block.’

  ‘Are you going to make a play for Lady Alexandra?’ Arethusa asked, hoping to divert the conversation away from herself.

  ‘Only for my amusement.’

  ‘Don’t break her heart,’ she said, remembering Charlotte and Tom. ‘It’s not kind to play with a woman’s heart.’

  ‘I’m not going to play with her. You are
. You’re going to learn how to play the banjo, and I’m going to entertain the Duchess and Peregrine and all the other old ladies present.’ He folded his arms and turned his gaze to the city passing by his window. ‘Do try not to faint, Tussy dear. Peregrine might not come to your rescue the second time round.’

  ‘Nor would I expect him to,’ Arethusa replied tartly. The one man she’d like to rescue her was the only man who couldn’t.

  At length the carriage drove through the black iron gates into the forecourt of the Duke of Sutcliffe’s elegant townhouse in Belgravia. The horses drew up outside the big doors which were framed by sturdy pillars and an imposing triangular pediment. No sooner had the horses stopped than one of the doors opened and a pair of footmen in the family livery hurried out to escort the guests from the carriage. Arethusa took as deep a breath as her corset allowed and smiled cordially as she stepped down from the brougham. She silently prayed to the God she claimed never listened that Jonas Madison was the brother the Duchess had invited to teach her daughter to play the banjo. Please, please, she pleaded, let it be Jonas.

  As soon as she entered the hall she heard the murmur of voices upstairs. With her heartbeat louder and more frantic than ever she lifted her skirts and followed the butler up the marble staircase. His slow ascent was infuriating. Rupert seemed in no hurry to reach the top and Arethusa had to concentrate on her pace so as not to look too keen. When at last they were shown into the drawing room, a large square room cluttered with elegant silk chairs, delicate side tables, a grand piano, black-and-white photographs in frames, potted palms and ferns, all dominated by a vast portrait of the Duchess in her youth which hung on brass chains above the ornate marble fireplace, Arethusa’s eyes found Jonas’s.

  She caught her breath and her heart gave a sudden leap of relief and delight. There he stood, as beautiful as he had been at the ball, talking to his pupils, Lady Alexandra and Margherita Stubbs, while the Duchess, her son Peregrine and Mrs Stubbs sat on chairs at the opposite side of the room. Arethusa felt her face flood with a hot rush of blood and quickly averted her eyes and followed her brother across the floor to greet their hostess. While Peregrine jumped to his feet, the Duchess merely held out her hand, which Rupert duly took and made a low bow. She smiled at him warmly and introduced him to Margherita’s mother, who was equally charmed. Peregrine needed no introduction. The two men’s pleasure at seeing one another made the Duchess remark that if she didn’t know any better she would have thought they were happier to see each other than they were to see the ladies. Rupert laughed in that easy, carefree way of his that could melt an ice cap and settled his gaze onto Lady Alexandra, who blossomed beneath it, like a sunflower in sunshine. ‘Why, you are much mistaken, Your Grace. As charming as Peregrine is, it is Lady Alexandra who lights up the room.’ And he proceeded to cross it to greet her.

  Arethusa bobbed a curtsey to the Duchess and politely greeted Mrs Stubbs. Peregrine took her hand and gave a bow, smiling at her cheerfully with lips as full and pretty as a girl’s. ‘Now, no delay, my dear,’ said the Duchess to Arethusa. ‘You must join Alexandra and Margherita at once. Mr Madison must not be held up.’ Arethusa, determined not to give herself away, walked across the floor towards the small group, trying very hard not to bounce. After greeting the girls and giving Mr Madison a formal nod, she sat on the empty chair. Jonas handed her a banjo. She took it and smiled. He held her smile for a second longer than was customary, then began to conduct the lesson.

  The moment Jonas began to speak it was as if warm honey were being poured into Arethusa’s heart. His voice was deep and soft and the accent like a melody. American English reminded her a little of the Irish and yet it was unlike anything she had ever heard before. Every time he looked at her, his eyes dark and mysterious and deeply intense, she felt a caress. It was as if he could see right into her, as if there was no one else in the room but the two of them. She sighed and thought how love’s delightful clichés now applied to her. She hoped the other girls didn’t notice.

  She need not have worried.

  Lady Alexandra was clearly not very interested in the banjo or in Mr Madison. Her eyes kept wandering to the group at the opposite side of the drawing room, and whenever Rupert looked over, her cheeks caught fire and she hastily turned her attention back to her tutor. Margherita, on the other hand, was more attentive. She listened to the instruction, placed her fingers on the right strings and strummed as she was told to, and yet she too kept sliding her eyes to the small group who talked quietly among themselves. Arethusa, when she wasn’t gazing at Jonas, noticed that the object of Margherita’s desire was Peregrine, but Peregrine was more rapt with Rupert.

  Arethusa realized very quickly that Margherita and her mother had been invited to tea in order for Margherita and Peregrine to get better acquainted. That was obvious. The Stubbses were very rich and Peregrine was very grand. They made a fine match. Rupert was there because Lady Alexandra had taken a shine to him, although Arethusa doubted that Rupert would be enough for the Duchess. But perhaps the Duchess was indulging her daughter. Would the Duchess encourage a friendship if she had no intention of allowing it to blossom? Therefore, Arethusa came to the swift conclusion that she had been invited simply as padding. She was of no interest to anyone, besides Jonas. She knew she was of interest to him. She had seen that look in Dermot’s eyes and in Ronald’s as well. She recognized infatuation when she saw it. Only, she had never felt it herself before. Now she did, she realized how very vulnerable it made her. How callous she had been with those poor men, she thought suddenly, as she strummed her first tune, quite to the astonishment of her two fellow pupils. One must not toy with people’s hearts, she thought resolutely. They are tender when touched by love.

  ‘You are a natural, Miss Deverill,’ said Jonas, his smile broad and full of admiration.

  ‘How did you learn so fast?’ Lady Alexandra asked, a little put out that she hadn’t managed more than a few hesitant chords.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ Arethusa replied, but she knew that she was the only one of the three who really wanted to learn.

  ‘I think you all have potential to play to a high standard, if you practise,’ said Jonas. ‘Some need more practice than others, but you will all get there if you want to.’

  ‘Oh, I want to!’ enthused Margherita, glancing at Peregrine.

  ‘Me too,’ said Arethusa, aware that, if Lady Alexandra did not want to continue, she might never see Jonas again. ‘My brother is very keen for me to learn,’ she said, looking directly at Lady Alexandra. ‘He was so taken by the Madison brothers at the ball that it was he who suggested I take up the banjo. I think to be proficient at that banjo would make you the most accomplished lady in London.’

  Lady Alexandra smiled. ‘Then we must have more lessons,’ she said firmly. ‘Now, how do I learn to play a tune like Miss Deverill? And once I can play a tune, might I accompany it with a song? I’m told I have a lovely singing voice.’

  Arethusa smiled with relief. ‘Goodness, you are very fortunate, Lady Alexandra. There is nothing my brother likes more than a lovely singing voice. Sadly, I sound like a croaking frog.’ She laughed at her own hard luck and knew that Lady Alexandra would like her more for it.

  ‘I doubt that very much, Miss Deverill,’ said Jonas and the tenderness in his voice caused her stomach to lurch.

  ‘Then I will sing for him too,’ said Lady Alexandra with a bashful smile. Arethusa was not sure that her brother would thank her for that. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was seeing Jonas again. As he stood up to leave, she knew from the heaviness of his gaze, which lingered on hers for a heartbeat longer than convention dictated, that seeing her again mattered to him as well.

  The following afternoon when Arethusa and Rupert arrived at the Sutcliffe mansion in Belgravia they found the Duchess was indisposed. The footman explained that only Lord Penrith, Lady Alexandra, Miss Margharita Stubbs and her mother, Mrs Stubbs, were in the drawing room with Mr Madison. Arethusa and Rupert we
re greeted by the sound of laughter that trickled into the hall with the esprit of a bubbling stream and caught each other’s eye, silently questioning the unusual sound of high spirits coming from the room upstairs. They discovered, to their delight, that without the Duchess presiding over the occasion the atmosphere had an air of festivity, which hadn’t been there before.

  Mrs Stubbs had positioned herself in the middle of the sofa where the Duchess had sat the previous afternoon, sipping tea from the finest china cup and nibbling cake from the most exquisite china plate. She quivered with excitement, relishing having the Marquess of Penrith to herself – a marquess, no less, who would one day be a duke, and whom she hoped to very soon welcome into her family as the fiancé of her only daughter, Margherita. The excitement was almost too much and her cheeks glowed a vivid crimson as if they had received two healthy slaps. Squeezed into her corset and embellished with bright, ostentatious jewels, there was rather a lot more of Mrs Stubbs on view than polite London Society was accustomed to in a lady of her age. Her embonpoint was barely contained and ballooned out of the ruffles of her décolletage like a pair of soufflés that wobbled every time she laughed. Perhaps Peregrine was making her laugh on purpose, for his own amusement. However, as soon as Arethusa and Rupert entered the room he got to his feet to welcome them with a look of relief.

  After the usual pleasantries Arethusa seated herself between Lady Alexandra and Margherita (both girls more interested in the trio at the other end of the room than in their music lesson) and opposite the object of her most ardent desire, Jonas Madison. Her infatuation had only swelled overnight and she felt more in love with him than ever. Without the Duchess’s incisive gaze upon her she felt braver and ready to take the odd risk.

  ‘I practised last night when I got home,’ she told Jonas, feeling a strange sensation in her belly as their eyes locked. ‘I was so inspired.’

  ‘It pleases me greatly to have inspired you,’ Jonas replied.

  ‘I couldn’t practise,’ added Margherita. ‘Mama drags me out every evening. She’s relentless.’ Then her gaze strayed across the room. ‘Perhaps now she will calm down a little and allow me to catch my breath.’