by Gloria Gay
“She might not want to attend the Belvedere ball if she is being talked about by everyone.”
“I am depending on you to make her see that it would be unwise not to attend the ball, that people would see it as an admission of guilt.”
“You depend entirely too much on my success—”
“Yes, and as I know what your next question will be, I will have my solicitor issue you a bank draft. You can pick it up on the Friday after our return to London.”
“And will this draft be enough to cover a particularly troublesome vow to Lady Elmond that is due at the end of the month? It’s keeping me awake at night.”
“How much is it for?”
“Nine hundred. Your draft would cover only the lease on the house in Berkeley Square.”
“I will issue you a draft for six thousand on your promise that you succeed in all we have talked about. Otherwise it will be cut accordingly.”
“I will have to succeed if I don’t want Lady Elmond to spread the word that I did not honor my debt to her. She is ruthless. I would never have a vowel accepted again at the table.”
“I believe you game too much for someone who can barely scrape her way around the ton,” said Shackel.
“Well, then, we’re two of a kind, aren’t we?” answered Lady Roland. “And where do you get that kind of money? Not at the tables, I’m sure. Word at White’s is that you lost big last week, to both Alvin Kessling and Lord Applebaun.”
“I'll bring the note to you tonight,” said Shackel, ignoring Lady Rolande’s references to his gaming debts.
CHAPTER 21
Cecilia looked at herself in the mirror in a filmy dusty rose gown with deeper ribbons at the high waist and tying into bows at the sleeve puffs. Her reticule too was deep rose and her dance card was tucked inside, with the supper dance and the last waltz already taken by Lord Arandale.
She realized she looked forward to the two dances with Arandale, especially the supper dance. She knew he had chosen the supper dance in order to be a longer length of time with her and still not arouse too much interest in the ton.
Her pulse quickened at the thought of being in Arandale’s strong arms, dancing the waltz. She thought for a moment, trying to remember the color of his eyes and she realized that they were not the “pretty” eyes she had thought them to be at first, on that day when all the girls were admiring him at a ball. Rather, they were a deep dark silvery gray with tints of blue. But what was most surprising is that what she remembered most about them now was they were so expressive of a depth in him that was hard to fathom. There was such authority and command in them too.
She realized that he was what she had once pictured when she thought of Sir Lancelot some years ago.
She was letting her fancy run away with her, she thought in dismay. She must remind herself that Arandale was not a knight in shining armor. He was, instead, a man of many faults who debauched himself with the Prince and his fast crowd in drunken sprees. Yet she realized that the arguments against Arandale were fast losing their strength in her mind.
There was a knock at the door and Lady Rolande asked to be let it.
“When we return to London, my dear, Alex has asked me to arrange a meeting with you, a nice tea where you can become a little acquainted with him as he is to be your father’s heir.”
“Certainly, my lady,” said Cecilia, coming out of her thoughts.
“I told Shackel that he should ask you himself, my dear but he insisted he didn’t know you well enough for that. He is a thoughtful man, I assure you, and thinks always of appearances.”
“I’m sorry to say this, Lady Rolande, as Mr. Shackel has become your friend, of late, but I have little interest in furthering my acquaintance with him. It’s with Papa he should become more acquainted,” said Cecilia.
“He seems to be a rather strange kind of manunfriendly even. Yet you know him well, do you not, Lady Rolande, for I have seen you speaking with him on several occasions.”
“It’s unfortunate that you should feel that way, Cecilia,” said Lady Rolande quickly, “seeing as how much he endeavors to become closer to you as well as your father, as he is your father’s heir. He thought perhaps the morning of Friday next? He dares not hope for more than a quarter of an hour.”
Cecilia suppressed a sigh. “I suppose so, my lady, since he is your friend.”
“We are friends, certainly. Not very close, friends, of course, as he has his interests and I have mine,” said the lady. “But he seems attracted to you, child, and however unfriendly an impression he may have given you initially, he was most anxious when he asked me to intercede on his behalf with you.”
“I have told him you are a great reader and he admires that. Myself, I cannot open a book but that my eyes start to glaze. So, I can tell Alex you are amenable to a meeting with him?”
“Yes.”
“The poor lamb will be so relieved, Cecilia.”
Cecilia felt that that “poor lamb” was as far removed a description of Alex Shackel as anything she’d ever heard. She would most likely picture him with a lamb between his teeth. She laughed inwardly at this thought.
Lady Rolande did seem well acquainted with Shackel and he seemed too interested in furthering his acquaintance with Cecilia, something Cecilia had little interest in. She hoped he wasn't intending to become a suitor!
“I saw you at the picnic with Lord Arandale, Cecilia,” said Lady Rolande, who was now switching to the subject of Arandale. “He seems interested in you, much more than I’ve seen him interested in anyone these past half dozen years. In fact, he very seldom attends the balls each season, preferring to frequent the gatherings of his Brighton set.”
“I have not detected any particular interest in me, my Lady, any more than he has in the other girls,” said Cecilia nervously, turning away from Lady Rolande’s scrutinizing eyes.
“Ah—perhaps I was mistaken. Hedra has quite set her cap on him, as you well know, my dear. I, for one, think she is aiming too high, don’t you think?”
Cecilia avoided the question as she busied herself with the reticule she was taking to the ball.
She was anxious to dispel any suspicion on Lady Rolande’s mind that she was indeed very interested in Lord Arandale for she didn’t want her becoming as obsessed with the subject as Hedra was.
“Well, he does favor you more insofar as the supper dance is concerned, for I can see from here that he has taken that up in your card. Has he asked for any other dance?”
“The waltz.”
“Ah—that seems to be more than the passing interest you believe he has in you, Cecilia.”
“My lady, if I can be allowed to continue my toilette? It's getting late. I must have Dora come in to help me with my hair. You did say she could help me?”
“Yes, of course. How remiss of me. Come, dear, let us go to my room so that Dora can arrange your hair, for she has the ribbons and combs there. Your dress is beautiful, by the way.”
CHAPTER 22
Lord Arandale walked into the full ballroom and scanned the young girls in white and pastels until, having gone over the whole length of the ballroom several times realized that Cecilia was not in the room. That seemed odd to him as Lady Rolande and Hedra were already there. He disliked Lady Rolande immensely and could not bring himself to ask her after Cecilia.
He would wait a few more minutes. He noticed that Cecilia’s father was not in the ballroom, either, but then he never attended. He buried himself in the library at all hours of the day and night or in his room with the books he hauled to it. He had seen him in the corridors of Rolling Hills toting his heavy loot of books once or twice. He was probably in his room at this very minute, for Arandale had gone to the library earlier and the room was empty.
As the minutes ticked away and Arandale spent dance after dance by the wall, he decided to go to the library once again to see if Cecilia’s father was in. Perhaps he knew what had become of his daughter.
But the library was empty
save for a few young bucks arguing about horses and gambling.
Lord Arandale thought then of his sister. Perhaps, if Cecilia was ill, she had sent word to her that she could not attend.
Lady Dalmont was surprised to hear that Cecilia had not attended, as she had expressed an expectation for the ball that afternoon at the picnic.
“Shall I send someone to inquire after her to her room, my dear?”
“Yes, could you do that?”
“The supper dance is on. Could you wait until it is over? I must oversee the dinner.”
Arandale thought that both the supper dance and the dance itself were beyond spending them with Cecilia, so he might as well wait until they were past. He wanted to go see for himself, but it would not be proper for him to knock at Cecilia’s bedroom door. Society needed little to start wagging tongues.
Exasperated, he thought then that it would be perfectly proper for him to knock on Sir Geoffrey’s bedroom door and asked his sister where she had put him.
“I believe in the old blue room, dear, by the north tower.”
“I’m going to inquire of him then.”
“That is the best course to take,” agreed his sister. “But you are likely to miss dinner, my dear. That room is at least a ten minute walk from here.”
“All the rooms in Rolling Hills are a ten minute walk from anywhere, and sometimes much more,” grumbled her brother.
Lord Arandale went in search of Cecilia’s father. It took him the full ten minutes to get there. When he reached the bedroom door he knocked and waited. Then seeing there was no answer he knocked louder. Still no sound came from within. Finally, exasperated he turned the knob and was relieved to see it gave way. He pushed the heavy door ajar and looked in. From the threshold he could see Sir Geoffrey in a deep slumber, a book lying open on his lap.
Lord Arandale walked over to Sir Geoffrey and shook his shoulder.
“Sir Geoffrey? Sir!”
“I—what—upon my word, is something the matter—who? Lord Arandale, is it? My lord! Is anything amiss? “
Sir Geoffrey tried to get to his feet but obviously couldn’t. He seemed not to be able to get out of the groggy state he was in, having been roused from deep slumber.
“Sir, I came to inquire after your daughter. She is not at the ball. My sister sent someone to her bedroom and she tells me her bedroom is empty and she is nowhere in sight.”
“Nowhere in sight! My Ceci!”
Arandale saw pure panic in Sir Geoffrey’s eyes and tried to calm him.
“Sir Geoffrey, there's no need to be so alarmed. I'm certain she may have just decided not to go to the ball and she is somewhere in the premises, perhaps even back again in her bedroom as we speak. But I must have you accompany me if we are to look into her bedroom again.”
“Yes, certainly, Lord Arandale, let me just get my coat. The nights are a bit chilly here.” Arandale waited until Sir Geoffrey donned his coat and changed from his slippers into his boots. Finally they were off, Arandale getting close to exasperation.
“She is usually such a sensible girl, and does exactly what she tells me she will do,” he said as they walked out of the room. “She was excited about the ball, of that I am certain, Lord Arandale, for she mentioned it to me right before we parted because she was going to get ready.”
“That's why it's all the more curious, that she should have missed it,” said Arandale, not wanting to alarm Sir Geoffrey but becoming alarmed by Sir Geoffrey’s assurances that she had expressed great interest in attending the ball.
“Here we are,” said Sir Geoffrey, turning the knob of Cecilia’s bedroom door.
The older and the younger man walked into the empty bedroom and looked around.
Arandale glanced around the neat, feminine room that looked as though it had just been vacated. A rose reticule lay on the bed and while Sir Geoffrey looked around perplexed, Arandale was already figuring out part of what may have happened.
“Her reticule is here, Sir Geoffrey. I believe it would be advisable to search inside to see if her dance card is in it, and thus we may perhaps find out if this was part of the attire she had planned on wearing at the ball.”
“Yes, yes, certainly, my lord. Here, let me see.” Sir Geoffrey spilled the contents of the small reticule on the bed and both men stared down at the dance card, a folded wisp of lace and a tortoise shell comb.”
“Well, she obviously went somewhere, meaning to return here on her way to the ball and was detained. The dance card and her reticule speak volumes, do they not, Lord Arandale?”
“Yes, they do, Sir Geoffrey. Where is Lady Rolande’s room, do you know?”
“It is one floor down, my lord, and clear at the other end.”
“Let us go there, then. Perhaps she went over to Lady Rolande’s room and decided to stay there. I saw Lady Rolande at the ball and she did not seem concerned with anything. She is a close friend of yours, is she not, Sir Geoffrey?”
“Yes, yes. If anyone would know where Cecilia has gone to it would be Lady Rolande herself, or Hedra. It was at Lady Rolande’s insistence that I brought Cecilia to partake of the London season. She was a friend of my dear wife.”
“I wonder my sister placed you and Lady Rolande so far apart.”
“Well, it was at Lady Rolande’s insistence that she was moved to another room, my lord. Apparently there was some problem with the room she was given at first, which was just two doors down from ours.”
“Let us go then,” said Lord Arandale, walking briskly. Sir Geoffrey, unable to walk at Lord Arandale’s pace, began to fall behind so that Arandale had to walk back and cut his pace to fit Sir Geoffrey’s.
“I'm sorry to be pulling you back, my lord. I am not as agile as I used to be.”
“Please don’t concern yourself with that, sir, said Arandale, “we shall get there soon enough. In fact, we’re already halfway down the hall. You said it was at the other end of the hallway?”
“Yes, it’s that door there.”
“It seems to be locked. Lady Rolande must have locked her bedroom before she left for the ball.”
Lord Arandale knocked on the door and waited. Very soon there seemed to be an answer, coming from behind the heavy door.
Lord Arandale called out, louder.
Cecilia answered!
“That’s my daughter, that’s my Ceci!”
“My dearest, open the door,” he urged and asked, “Why are you still here and not at the ball? Is something the matter?”
Cecilia was now closer to the door and the men could hear her clearly, as she spoke louder.
“The door is locked,” she told them. “When I tried to leave for the ball I couldn’t open the door!”
“Did someone lock you in, Miss Sentenell?” from Arandale.
“Lock me in! Well, I don't know. Why would anyone do that? Dora left after helping me with my hair and I remained in the bedroom for a few minutes, thinking to go to my bedroom to pick up my reticule which I had left there and then going on to the ball. Lady Rolande was anxious to go to the ballroom and I believe I was holding her back because Dora took longer than usual to do my hair. Then when Dora left I remained a few minutes to arrange my hair to my taste, then I tried to open the door in order to leave and it was locked tight!”
“Sir Geoffrey, can you stay here with her until I go find the key to this blasted bedroom door?” asked Arandale, “I will be back as soon as I possibly can. I don’t think you should remain standing, though. There’s a chair over there. Let me bring it here so that you can sit down while you wait.”
“Thank you, Lord Arandale, you are most kind,” said Sir Geoffrey. “Yes, I believe I wouldn’t be able to remain standing for long. There, thank you,” he added when Arandale helped him to sit on the chair he had brought. “Yes, go on ahead and get the key to the room. I shall remain here until you return.”
Lord Arandale then ran down the corridor and after glancing appreciatively at his agility, Sir Geoffrey turned his attention
to his daughter once more.
“Are you there my dear?”
“Yes, Papa, I’m here. And quite frustrated, you can believe. I gave up yelling long ago, for who can hear through these thick walls. I figured I would miss the entire ball before anyone noticed.”
“Arandale noticed.”
“Yes, and thank the Lord for that, or I would remain here all night. I wonder Lady Rolande didn’t miss me!”
“Yes, that is strange!”
Lord Arandale reached Lady Rolande who was standing by the wall with the matrons and motioned her aside.
“Lady Rolande, the key to your bedroom if you please.”
“I beg your pardon!”
“Miss Sentenell has been locked in your bedroom these last two hours. I wonder you didn’t notice her absence, since it was at your insistence she was brought to London.”
“Locked in my bedroom? Is the door stuck?”
“No, it’s not stuck, it’s locked. May I please have the key?”
“I shall accompany you, of course. I am just as concerned for the poor child as you are!”
“I have no doubt of that,” said Arandale in an icy voice.
CHAPTER 23
Lord Arandale said nothing during the long walk to Lady Rolande’s bedroom. Now and then Lady Rolande stole a glance at him and saw his inscrutable face in profile giving away nothing.
When they reached the bedroom door, Lady Rolande, taking the key from her reticule, put it into the keyhole.
“It seems unable to turn. Perhaps when the door closed it clicked locked. I cannot seem to be able to open it.”
“May I?” asked Arandale, looking fixedly at Lady Rolande.
“Yes, certainly, my lord. Perhaps you may be more successful.”
“Perhaps I might,” said Lord Arandale in a cold voice. He put the key into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open without the least bit of trouble.
“Cecilia!” Lady Rolande quickly embraced the stunned girl before anyone could do anything. “We have been worrying so about you, you naughty girl. What did you do to the door to make it stick?”
