“Looks and breeding, position and wealth.”
The perfect description of Lord Wye. And she had four, or was it five, days to capture him in, days when they would be alone together he could not escape from her even if he wished to do so.
It was then that Elvina made up her mind that she would prevent it if she could.
It was not only because she loved Lord Wye herself and she knew in her heart of hearts that he could never love her and that she could never be anything in his life – but because instinctively she knew that Lady Cleone was not good enough for him.
There was no warmth of reality in her voice and there was no gentleness in her eyes.
‘She is hard and she is calculating,’ Elvina ruminated.
With her new resolution spurring her forward, she hurried down the companionway and crossed the deck.
She ran up to Lord Wye and slipped her arm in his.
“Come and see the maps on the bridge,” she suggested. “Do come and look at them. They are not nearly as good as the ones you had on your yacht, I am convinced of it.”
It was the eager interruption of a child and Lord Wye turned to smile at her.
“Are they not?” he said. “Then perhaps I shall be able to give the Captain some hints. I am rather good at drawing maps. Another accomplishment that might come in useful one day.”
“You have so many,” Lady Cleone said in a soft voice, her eyes looking up at him from under her long, artificially darkened lashes.
“You flatter me,” Lord Wye replied. “But actually this last week I have discovered that I have unknown qualifications. For instance, I have become quite a good thief.”
Lady Cleone gave a little cry.
“A thief!”
“Yes, indeed. I have learned how to get not one ration but two from the forage cart! How to purloin a piece of Army equipment that one particularly wants from someone who has left it lying about or who is no longer in need of it. You would be astonished how expert I have become at such things.”
“What you must have suffered, you poor man!” Lady Cleone burbled. “You must forget the terrible dangers that you have passed through. In fact I will do everything in my power to make you forget them.”
Again that upward glance and that little pressure of a white hand on his arm.
“Come and look at the maps,” Elvina insisted.
Lord Wye yielded to the pressing pull at his hand and let her lead him away from Lady Cleone on to the bridge.
“You will be interested, I know you will be,” Elvina promised him.
She glanced back at Lady Cleone. She was watching them go with a tiny pout on her red lips. At the same time her eyes were assured and confident.
Elvina felt as if a hand clutched at her heart.
‘She shall not have him. She shall not,’ she determined. She did not, however, underrate her opponent.
That night when they sat down to dinner in the candlelit cabin a meal was served that would have done credit to any London chef.
“What delicious food!” Lord Wye exclaimed.
“You have to thank Cleone for that,” her brother answered proudly. “She had a talk with the chef before we sailed and gave him some of her recipes. I assure you, sir, that in Sicily men fought to have an invitation to dinner at my father’s house.”
“I am not surprised,” Lord Wye said.
“I have always been brought up with men,” Lady Cleone came in, “and I know that, however amusing the conversation or however attractive the conversationalist, the first thing they require is to be well fed and well wined.”
“I think you belie us,” Lord Wye said. “Equally, as a connoisseur, I must salute you. Both the food and the wine tonight have been superlative tonight.”
“I am so glad you are pleased,” Lady Cleone answered and the look in her eyes made it quite obvious that she was not referring only to the food and wine.
She was looking so lovely that Elvina had to concede that in this, at any rate, there was little pretence.
She wore a gown of cherry red velvet that showed off the magnolia whiteness of her shoulders and which matched the red of her lips. There were rubies and diamonds in her ears and round her wrists. There was a long scarf of velvet lined with ermine to put around her if she went out on deck.
In the plain muslin gown made by the seamstress in Santander Elvina knew that she looked a neat, tidy and a rather unattractive child.
She had spent some time in front of the tiny looking glass in her cabin, trying to arrange her hair more appealingly. But it was quite useless.
In the end she put the little wreath of flowers and ribbons on it and hoped that Lady Cleone would not notice the fair parting and the little hint of gold on the waves that had begun to reappear now that the dye was wearing off.
‘So thin, so ugly,’ Elvina told herself.
Yet she knew that in her battle with Lady Cleone she had one point in her favour. Lord Wye was not on his guard against her.
She had gone to his cabin when she was ready and found him dressed except for his coat and he was tying his cravat in front of the mirror.
He too had bought some clothes in Santander, but they were quite inadequate for his needs and Peregrine Howard had put his own wardrobe at his disposal. Fortunately they were about the same height.
“Dammit!” Lord Wye exclaimed as she came into the cabin. “I have almost forgotten how to tie a cravat.”
“Shall I do it for you?” Elvina asked.
“You?” he enquired. “No, you had best call Howard’s valet. He said he would come to me, but I told him I could manage for myself. I thought I could. I used to be able to tie a cravat better than Wilkins.”
“Was Wilkins your valet?” Elvina asked. “Well, let me take his place. I have often tied them for my father.”
“Well, you can have a try,” Lord Wye said in an amused voice. “If it is a failure, we will use up another of Howard’s muslins.”
“Sit down,” Elvina suggested, pulling a chair into the centre of the cabin for him.
He did as he was told and she tied his cravat with neat, nimble little fingers.
“It may not be a fashionable style,” she commented a little anxiously.
“By Jove! You have done it extremely well. Thank you, Elvina. What a wife you will make one day for a happy man!”
“I shall never get married,” Elvina said quickly without thinking.
“Why not?” he asked her.
“Because I shall never want to,” she replied.
“That is what you think now,” Lord Wye said. “When you are older, you will find that a husband can be very convenient for a woman.”
“Is a wife convenient for a man?” Elvina asked.
He shook his head.
“No, indeed. Wives are the devil. Always nagging at a fellow. I have sworn never to have one if I can help it.”
“Then keep your vow,” Elvina could not help saying.
“That is a betrayal of your sex,” he teased her.
“Do you want to be nagged at?” she asked.
“No, indeed,” he answered. “But women set traps for men and sometimes they are fool enough to fall into them.”
“Not if he knows they are there.”
“Who are you warning me against?” Lord Wye asked with a twinkle in his eyes. “Could it possibly be the fair Lady Cleone?”
“You must use your own judgement where she is concerned – ”
“Do you not like her?” Lord Wye enquired. “I thought she was making herself extremely pleasant to you.”
“Yes, indeed,” Elvina replied. “She pressed a coin into the poor beggar child’s hand, told her to be good and say her prayers!”
At the contempt and bitterness in Elvina’s voice Lord Wye threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“You are most certainly an imp of mischief,” he said. “You never miss anything do you? I thought myself that the fair Cleone was slightly patronising.”
&nb
sp; “To tell the truth I am half-afraid that she will push me overboard. You see, she has always been brought up with men.”
Again Lord Wye roared with laughter.
Then he checked himself.
“Elvina, we are being disloyal and rather discourteous,” he said severely. “Lady Cleone has most kindly offered us hospitality. We must not abuse it.”
“No, indeed, I am sorry,” Elvina replied in pretended embarrassment.
But she knew that her little shafts had gone home and Lord Wye would remember them. What was more, he would be warned.
When dinner was over, Lady Cleone drew Lord Wye onto a comfortable sofa and talked to him in a soft voice, asking him to tell of his experiences on the outward voyage, begging him to tell stories of the Prince Regent and altogether flattering him into talking about himself.
Peregrine Howard made an effort to entertain Elvina. She answered him only in monosyllables, sitting watching Lady Cleone and Lord Wye until she said a little irritably,
“I think it’s time for little girls went to bed, do not you?”
As if suddenly awakened to his responsibilities. Lord Wye said quickly,
“Yes, Elvina, you must be tired.”
“I am not in the least tired”
“But indeed you are, although you may not know it,” Lady Cleone said. “This past week must have taken a toll of your health and strength and we must take care of you on this voyage, must we not, my Lord?”
“We surely must,” he said a little hastily. “Go to bed, Elvina. Try and sleep late.”
Elvina would have protested, but she felt that to do so would have made her merely seem difficult and that, above all things, she did not wish to appear.
She rose to her feet, made a curtsey to Lady Cleone and then bent forward and kissed Lord Wye on the cheek.
She felt herself blush as she did so for he put his arm around her, pulled her close to him and kissed her in return, a warm loving kiss that made her very skin tingle.
“Have a good night,” he said. “We have to fatten you up before we reach England.”
“Thank you, but I would rather remain just as I am,” Elvina said untruthfully.
She turned away, curtseying to Peregrine Howard and left the Saloon.
Before the door had closed behind her she heard Lady Cleone say,
“Poor little thing. We must try and help her and perhaps, if she is fatter, she will not be so excessively plain.”
Elvina shut the door and stood for a moment shaking with rage.
She wanted to go back and confront Lady Cleone, to tell her that she would be plain if she had lived the life that she had, beaten and undernourished, treated like a servant by her stepmother and run off her feet with the amount of work there was to do and for which the only thanks she had were blows and slaps.
And then she realised that to make a scene would only make her appear vulgar and ill-bred. Lady Cleone had it all her own way.
She was lovely and had a background which, although they had never met, she shared with Lord Wye because they belonged to the same stratum of Society.
She had managed at dinner to talk of friends and acquaintances in a manner that made their conversation intimate and Elvina and Peregrine Howard might not have existed.
There was no possible opening for them when they could join in the conversation.
Elvina’s cabin was next door, but she did not go to it. She walked slowly across the deck.
The sea was calm, but there was a fair evening breeze and they were moving at a good speed.
In the West the last glimmer of the sun was going down over the sea and above the stars were coming out and twinkling in the clear sky.
Elvina leaned over the side of the ship. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago the sea had been tempestuous and cruel.
She wondered, if they had travelled straight to England on Lord Wye’s yacht, whether she would have fallen in love with him, whether he would ever have meant so much to her had he remained just the elegant dandy, the gentleman who had befriended her and had not, because of the dangers they had been in together, become a companion, a protector and a friend.
‘I love him!’ she told the sea.
‘I love him!’ she told the setting sun.
‘I love him!’ she told the stars.
How long she stood there she did not know. She only knew that her love for Lord Wye seemed indelibly linked with all the beauty around her.
The sun went down, the twilight turned to darkness and then suddenly she heard a step behind her and turned to see Lord Wye standing there alone.
“Elvina, why are you not in bed?”
She had no answer for that question. It seemed so long ago since she left the cabin. She was suffused with her love of him and it was hard to remember that he was real and not just the embodiment of her dreams and yearnings.
She must have shivered for he put his arm around her.
“You are cold,” he remarked. “It was naughty of you not to go to bed.”
“I-I wanted to – think,” she managed to stammer.
“And what were you thinking about?” he asked.
“Of you,” she replied.
He bent down suddenly and picked her up in his arms.
“Silly little imp. Are you really regretting the nights we spent on the mountains with the troops?”
“We were – happy,” Elvina murmured.
“I never realised until now how happy we were,” he answered. “Strange how one looks back and finds that one felt something so much different from what one expected. We were happy, Elvina, but why are we talking as if everything is in the past. There is the future ahead of us and lots more happiness.”
She did not answer him. She was just content that he was holding her in his arms with her head against his shoulder and her face so close to his as it had been when he carried her through the fog on the mountain.
“Silly child,” he said with a sudden gentleness and, bending his head, kissed her forehead.
“You are half-asleep,” he went on. “I am going to carry you to bed.”
The ship gave a little lurch and his arms tightened about her.
“Come along,” he urged. “Sentimentalising over the past is going to get us nowhere.”
He carried her across the deck and bending his head managed, by pushing open the door with his shoulder, to carry her into her cabin.
He set her down gently on the bunk and he would have released her, but she put up her arms suddenly and held him close.
“Don’t go,” she said.
She did not quite know what she meant. She only knew that she wanted him to stay, she could not bear him to leave her.
He gave her a little hug and then released her clinging hands, stroking her hair back from her forehead.
“You are sleepy and so am I, Elvina. Goodnight, little one, and stop regretting the past. There are wonderful things to do together in the future.”
He went from the cabin closing the door behind him. When he had gone Elvina let the tears roll slowly down her cheeks.
“Wonderful things to do together in the future!”
She repeated the words over and over again, crying from sheer happiness because he had uttered the one word that mattered – together!
CHAPTER NINE
“We shall be on English soil this afternoon,” a voice came from behind Elvina.
She turned swiftly. The Honourable Peregrine Howard was standing beside her, a telescope to his eye.
She felt her heart sink. For the last four days she had enjoyed the voyage more than she could ever explain in words.
It had been rough.
Not rough enough to be dangerous or to inconvenience herself or Lord Wye in any way, but it had kept Lady Cleone in her cabin and it had made her brother spend his time with his feet up and a brandy bottle beside him.
It was wonderful for Elvina to have Lord Wye to herself, to be with him and to talk to him, to laugh and even ar
gue without danger, without discomfort and without feeling that every word and every look might betray them.
The good food aboard the frigate, combined with the rest and, in Lady Cleone’s absence, peace of mind, had made Elvina feel quite different.
She was no longer tense and nervous. She no longer slept restlessly, waking as she had the first nighty at every creak of the moving vessel.
But now her happiness was to end and her eyes were troubled as she answered Peregrine Howard.
“So soon? I thought we would not reach Harbour until evening.”
“You underestimate the speed we are travelling at,” he answered. “Personally, I shall be glad to step ashore. I have long thought the sea a dead bore, especially when it makes me feel indisposed.”
He was a bad colour, she thought critically, and there were heavy pouches under his eyes from the excessive drinking that he had been indulging in.
“Before we go ashore I want to talk to you,” he went on before she could speak.
“To me?” Elvina asked in surprise.
She wondered why she had ever thought that the Honourable Peregrine Howard was nice. She supposed that in contrast to Lady Cleone he had at first seemed pleasant and even kind.
Now she noticed that for all his good looks there was a meanness about his rather tight mouth and a hardness in his eyes that made her wonder if he would ever do an entirely disinterested act of kindness.
“Yes, to you,” he answered a little heavily. “I have been talking to my sister about you.”
Elvina stiffened.
“I do not wish Lady Cleone to trouble herself on my behalf,” she pointed out.
“Ah. But she is troubled!” Peregrine Howard replied. “She is wondering what will become of you when we reach England. After all you cannot expect Lord Wye to inconvenience himself to any large extent. He is a very important personage and a child of your age could be nothing but an encumbrance.”
“You need not concern yourselves on my account,” Elvina replied in a low voice. “I will try not to be a nuisance – to his Lordship.”
“That is what I hoped you would say,” Peregrine Howard remarked approvingly. “In fact Cleone was certain that you would see sense, so she suggests, with great generosity I may say, that she will herself find you a place in a school which she is charitably interested in.
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