Kissed in the Dark

by Gloria Gay

  At ease once more in her mind, Cecilia turned to the preparations for the ball. The Patronesses at Almacks had given her permission to waltz and for this she was extremely happy. There was not a dance she enjoyed more than the waltz. There was an artistic quality about it and she appreciated anything that was artistic. She loved the time she spent on her sketches and watercolors. She painted mostly flowers, as her mother had done. It brought her closer to her.

  She glanced fondly at the filmy cloud that was her ball gown for tonight and sighed happily. She had never possessed anything as lovely as that gown and it was a joy just to gaze at it, as she was doing now, fingering the filmy tulle with white rosettes joined by bows made of delicate thin ribbon.

  “It’s your prettiest gown, Miss,” said Mary, as she worked on Cecilia’s hair.

  “Yes,” said Cecilia with a wide smile, a delicious shiver of happiness and expectation of the ball going through her.

  Would this be the night he would appear—that special someone who was destined for her? That man with whom she would fall in love?

  He would be a man that would make her feel that one lifetime with him was not enough.

  * * *

  “Nellie said you wanted to speak to me, Alex.”

  “Yes. Sit, down, Sadie. I wanted to talk to you about Violet.”

  “Violet?” Sadie winced, visibly, which made Alex Shackel, who noticed this, press his lips in distaste.

  “What do you think I'm going to ask, Sadie, for you seem to be afraid of my next words?”

  “No, nothing, Alex. I ain'tno, I'm not afraid.”

  “How old is Violet?

  “She'll be fifteen next December, Alex.”

  “Sadie, I want you to start calling me Mr. Shackel, from now on. Understood? The reason I called you is that the time has come to end our relationship. So I thought it best that we should revert back to formalities. Violet, however, can call me Alex.”

  “Violet? Why, AlMr. Shackel?”

  “Why? I should think that would be pretty obvious. How old are you, Sadie?

  “Twenty-eighttwenty nine.”

  “You're going to be thirty-six in June, am I not right?”

  “Yes,” said Sadie.

  “I'm taking your daughter as my mistress, instead, Sadie. I find Violet a very beautiful specimen and she's liable to become even lovelier as she becomes full blown.”

  “Mr. Shackel, my Violetshe“

  “She what?”

  “She's promised, sir. She's to marry the Lindel boy, next monthJake Lindel, a footman with the Calventer's.”

  “Well, then that's very unfortunate, don’t' you think?”

  “Unfortunate?”

  “For Jake Lindel.”

  “IMr. JackMr. Shackel“ Sadie's voice trembled. “They're very much in love, sir.”

  “Do you think for a moment I would allow that gem of a daughter you have to be married to that little bumpkin? Answer me, Sadie,” said Shackel. He had stood up and came to stand right before Sadie who cowered under him. He took Sadie's chin in his hand and lowering his face to her he asked. “Do you?”

  “IMr. ShackelVioleteven if I told her to, she wouldn't agree to become your mistress. Violet has a mind of her own. Why, she's even told me she's“

  “She's even told you what?”

  “NothingI”

  “Told you what?” Shackel's hold on Sadie's chin was now such that he was bruising her. Sadie winced. “She told me she was ashamed I couldn't find honest work.”

  “Well, then” said Shackel with a laugh, “she shouldn't disparage work she is soon to be engaged in, should she?”

  “IMr. Shackelcouldn't you, for old time's sakecouldn't you look elsewhere“

  “Shut up and listen to me, you little slut,” said Shackel. “There is not going to be any discussion about this, do you hear? I have made my decision about this. I want Violet and she will be mine. And you, Sadie, are going to help me with it.”

  “I am?” asked Sadie, feeling a pressure in her heart.

  “Yes, you. Now go and call her. I want to talk to her.”

  “Yes,” said Sadie, eager to get away from him.

  CHAPTER 7

  On her way to Violet's room Sadie said a prayer. What could save them from this? Nothing could save them. A million prayers couldn't save them. Shackel had chosen Violet and he always got what he wanted.

  “AhMama,” said Violet, turning from the mirror. She was tying a ribbon to her hair, hair that was a cascade of burnished gold waves that fell in silken disarray. Her bright, blue eyes were wide and beautiful and her face, a perfect oval had the complexion of porcelain and the toning of a new peach.

  Her mother, who lived for her alone, had made sure that Violet had gotten an education. She had never thought beyond Violet becoming mistress to some high-flying blood, but she well knew that good grammar and conversation skills went hand in hand with beauty when it came to becoming the mistress of a rich man. But when Violet grew up, she had different ideas about her own life and she openly disdained her mother's livelihood and told her she would never become a kept whore. She would rather die than follow in her footsteps.

  Sadie had been Shackel's mistress for three years and the small flat just off Hanover Square represented to her security and Violet's safety. She had assiduously put aside as much of the money she got toward the day when Shackel, as Sir Cade Elkinbrier before him had done, gave her her conge. She looked around now. She had become fond of the two-room apartment up in the fourth floor of a respectable building. She and Violet and Violet's half-brother, Calvin, would have to vacate it now. The rent would be too steep and she must economize until she found another lover.

  “What is it, Mama? Why are you so pale? You look as though you've just seen a ghost.”

  “Violet, my sweet. Never mind your hair. Mr. Shackel wants to see you. Now.”

  “Now? Whatever for? I'm running late already. I'm meeting Jake at the park.”

  “Noyou're notI mean, Violet, my sweet, it'll just take a minute. Will you do it for me?”

  “Well, all right,” said Violet standing up. “But it will have to be very quick. What on earth does he want to talk to me about? Did he tell you?”

  “NoII really don't know. Please, let us hurry, dear.”

  “I don't like Mr. Shackel, Mama.”

  “Please, dearest, not now. Don't talk about that now.”

  “Well, now,” said Shackel when Sadie and Violet entered the room. “I was wondering what was holding you up but now I see. You have made yourself even lovelier than you usually are, Violet.”

  “You wanted to see me, Mr. Shackel?”

  “Yes, my dear. Sadie, you can leave now, and close the door, please.”

  “What is this about? Why must Mama leave?”

  “It's all right, my dear. Your Mama is in the next room. I want a few private words with you, that's all.”

  “I was just about to go downstairs, as I'm going to the park. This won't take long, will it?”

  “Not in the least,” Shackel assured her. He led her to the settee and sat before her.

  “Violet, my dear. I wanted to tell you about my plans for you. The kind of life you will have as my mistress is like nothing you have seen until now. You will have the best gowns, the best jewels, money to spend on whatever yourlittle heart desires, servantsanything, my sweet!”

  “I don't understand“

  “I will no longer require your mother's company, Violet, instead, I shall require yours.”

  “What? You're insane!”

  “What did you just say?”

  “I said you're insane!” Violet stood up and headed to the door. At the door she turned and looked back at Shackel.

  “My heart belongs to Jake Lindel and it will always belong to him. The answer is no! You can't force me to become your mistress! But I am glad this means that my mother will no longer be your mistress. That much I am g
lad for.”

  “My dear Violet,” said Shackel calmly. Some day you are going to look back at this little scene and laugh at yourself, at how silly you acted. You will be my mistress, Violet. Don't doubt that in the least.”

  “I hate you, you horrible man!”

  Violet slammed the door behind her and ran down the stairs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sadie ran after her.

  “Violetmy sweet. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

  “Mama, get away from me. I don’t want to speak to you just now. I must be by myself.”

  Violet ran out the door and down the street to the park.

  * * *

  “I only have two guineas, Vi,” said Jake Lindel. They were sitting in a secluded bench in Green Park.

  “I have two also, Jay, and I can get four more from Mum. Is that enough to get us to Gretna Green?”

  “I think it is,” said Jake. “It's a long way to the Scottish border, Vi. We would have to leave early tomorrow. It's best if we don't give him time to plan. One day that we postpone this is one more day we risk being caught.”

  “I would leave right now if that were possible, Jake. But I think we're going to need the money from Mama and she was going to give it to me this afternoon.”

  “Why this afternoon?”

  “Because I am to take it to the modiste, for my gown for the Robinson party.”

  “There's a night coach,” said Jake, but I doubt we would be able to reach the West End in time.”

  “It's going to be an endless night,” said Violet, in desperation. “I wish we could just hide somewhere right after I get the money from Mama and then leave in the morning.”

  “That would alert them. Shackel would start looking for you and have several hours to prevent us from leaving the city. No, I think we should wait and leave in the morning,” said Jake, and added, “couldn't you tell your mum about it?”

  “She's terrified of Shackel, Jay. I would never doubt she loves me but she is deathly afraid of Shackel. She would choose what she felt to be my safety above everything else.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Six Weeks Before

  Following Lady Castlereigh's rout, Cecilia had seen Arandale at many other events. At a musicale at Countess Kelligan’s house in St. James he had spent almost an hour in conversation with her. And what had they talked about? Cecilia could not recall a single word. It had been actually he talking and she listening.

  This is the way things must always go in his life, she thought. He must hold court even with his valet. He had been at her side at a rout at the Carterville’s, and at two or three balls. At the park, Cecilia did not see him again with his mistress.

  Cecilia realized in a hazy way she did not want to admit that Lord Arandale was singling her out at every occasion where they met.

  Yet even so, she was startled into silence when her father called her to his study and revealed the earl’s proposal of marriage, which had arrived by express that morning.

  Unable to speak, Cecilia could do little but stare at her father.

  “We are much honored, my dear,” her father was saying, “I could not have dreamed a better future for you if I had thought for a hundred years. My dear Cecilia, you will be thrust into a life you cannot begin to imagine. And I.” he added, “I will die happy, knowing you will be taken care of for the rest of your life.”

  “I cannot,” Cecilia managed to say through a tight throat. “I cannot and will not.”

  “Will not?” Asked her father, his eyes wide, “will not what?”

  “I will not marry him, Papa.”

  Her father was silent as he stared at her. He seemed even more startled than she had been.

  “Are you insane?” he finally said, “What are you saying, Cecilia?”

  “I am saying that I will not marry Arandale. You cannot make me, Papa. We are not in the Middle Ages anymore.”

  “We are in the Middle Ages, so far as this marriage proposal is concerned,” said her father, “you are honored and blessed beyond your wildest dreams with this proposal.”

  “My wildest dreams will never include the Earl of Arandale,” said Cecilia.

  “Sit down, my dear,” said her father, “you are overwrought.”

  When Cecilia was seated before him, he went on,

  “What has Lord Arandale done to displease you? He assured me you and he had become acquainted and you welcomed his company.” Then observing his daughter keenly, he said, “you have such an odd look in your eyes, Ceci, say something.”

  Cecilia looked up at him. “I didn't come to London for the season only to destroy my future, Papa.”

  Sir Geoffrey's voice was now a bit edgy: “What has come over you? Tell me in what way Lord Arandale has displeased you? He wrote me before he began courting you and he was everything that is courtly and gentlemanly. As I had heard you express a pointed dislike of him over some incident at the park I suggested he begin the courtship without me telling you outright his intention. I thought that if you were eased into the courtship in a careful way you might begin to like him. I didn't want to tell you of the courtship, lest you take an even stronger dislike against him. I thought he would have a better chance at succeeding if he were subtler.

  “Sir Geoffrey ran a hand over his head and sighed wearily. “Apparently he has not succeeded, judging from your attitude towards him. Were you not acquainted with him, as he assured me?”

  “We are acquainted, Papa. And the more I know him the less I like him. I see him at more places than I care to, in truth. I have danced several times with him.”

  The dances had been the longest most unpleasant dances of her young life. She now winced unconsciously in recalling them. Her father noticed this.

  “And?” asked her father. “Did you enjoy his company while you danced?”

  “I was extremely repulsed by him.”

  “I cannot believe this!”

  “Try, Papa, for it's the truth.”

  “My dear,” said Sir Geoffrey, trying another tack, “I cannot comprehend how having expressed a wish to partake of the season, when you obtain a proposal from the best of the suitors in London you reject it. I can only say this to you, and that is my final word on it. You will try to enjoy Arandale’s company, for you are soon to be betrothed to him. It would be impossible for me to reject Lord Arandale’s offer of marriage to you or even cancel his courtship. I would as soon face a dueling pistol.”

  “Even should you drag me to the altar, Papa, I would still say “no.” You would not be able to force me to say yes.”

  “I can hardly believe what I'm hearing,” said her father. “Do you realize that Arandale is particularly favored by the Prince Regent? That his family goes back at least four hundred years? Do you even imagine how impossible it would be for me to say no to him?”

  “Papa, try to see this through my eyes for a moment,” said Cecilia, taking another tact. “Arandale is a jaded, unpleasant man. Yes, he is often in the company of Beau Brummell and the Prince. And just like the Prince, he would find a way to pretend he actually never married me if he should be displeased by me, just like Prinny did with that unfortunate Mrs. Fitzherbert, for his arrogance knows no bounds. He is of that set so he must condone what the Prince does, Prinny's mock marriage, his string of mistresses and the estrangement from Princess Caroline whom he rejected from the very first day.”

  “How do you know all this,” said her father, a look of pure horror in his eyes. “It was a mistake to have come to London. I wish I had never let Lady Rolande talk me into it. You and I would have been better left alone at Brintelway Hall, among our friends in Nottingham. You are changing into someone I hardly know. How do you know these horrible things concerning the Prince? I didn’t know it!”

  “Papa—please, this is known by everyone. You are just not used to London gossip. Even here, in London, you hardly go out, but remain buried in your books in this musty library. And if you must know, it was from Lady Rolande I learned of it. She and Hedra gossip non-sto
p, so that sometimes I would like to run from the room to escape them.”

  Sir Geoffrey looked extremely upset.

  “Papa,” said Cecilia taking his hand. “You have told me often enough how impossible it is for someone to change his character. I believe Lord Arandale is set in his character and it will be thus for the rest of his life. How can you force me to marry a man I despise? I cannot bear the sight of his arrogant face. Any girl who marries him will change to please him. He does not talk to me, he talks at me. Do you understand what I mean?”

  But Sir Geoffrey said nothing but looked extremely flustered,

  “Papa, I do not need to marry,” she pressed, “although we will lose Brintelway Hall upon your death, as it is entailed, I am not affected in the least by it. My future is secured. Why do you want to force me to marry as if I had to marry?”

  “My dear,” said her father sadly, “I had not wanted to tell you this, because I thought that while there were no symptoms visible, I could spare you the sad truth. In truth, my dear Ceci, I am not well.”

  “Not wellwhat do you mean, Papa? Tell me quick.” Cecilia ran to her father and put her arms around him.

  “Tell me you were just joking.”

  “I wish it were so.”

  “No—no—I will not hear it,” said Cecilia pressing her hands on her ears, even as the tears started to flow from her eyes.

  “It's not as bad as you imagine, my dear,” said her father quickly.

  Sir Geoffrey was alarmed at her reaction. He could see that the many things she now did in his place had come gradually and she had not wanted to examine too carefully the reason why she was now practically running the estate herself, as Sir Geoffrey had turned more and more responsibilities over to her.

  Sir Geoffrey realized that while he had not voiced it to Cecilia it didn't exist for her. Even now, on seeing her reaction, he backed out of telling her the complete truth. He could tell that Cecilia had taken her mother's death very hard and to also lose her father now would be too much for her to bear. They did not come from a large family. Other than Martha Bedder and her Aunt Eleanor, there was no one else.