The Mistletoe Seller

by Dilly Court

  ‘I’ll miss all this, Angel. Memories of home keep me going when I’m away.’

  ‘When will you have to leave us?’ Angel asked, although she already knew the answer. It was clear from the bleak expression on his face.

  Chapter Nine

  It was only when Angel handed the reins to the groom that she remembered her promise to Lil. She raced from the stables, the skirts of her riding habit flying out behind her like wings, and her blonde curls escaping from the confines of a snood. She reached the sewing room to find Lil, Meg and Dolly hard at work. Dolly looked up and smiled but Lil’s face was set in grim lines. Angel knew she was in trouble.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she began breathlessly. ‘I lost track of time and it was such a lovely day for a ride.’

  ‘We’re spending our time doing things for you and you couldn’t be bothered to turn up for a fitting,’ Lil said crossly. ‘Lucky for you Dolly’s about your size.’

  ‘Oh, don’t get on to her, Lil.’ Dolly snipped a thread and smoothed out the material. ‘I wouldn’t turn down an invitation to go out riding with the captain, if it was me he asked, and if I could ride a horse, which I can’t.’

  Angel gazed at the shimmering satin gown in a shade of brilliant turquoise, embellished with tiny crystal beads and seed pearls. ‘Where did this come from? It’s not mine.’

  Meg looked up from the hem she was stitching. ‘It’s one of Madam’s. It’s been packed away in a trunk for a couple of years, and I doubt if she’ll even remember it. We’ve altered it so I don’t think she would recognise it anyway.’

  ‘Since you’ve decided to join us, you’d better try it on.’ Lil rose from the wooden stool and held the gown up, giving it a shake.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ Angel dashed her hand across her eyes, overcome by emotion. ‘I’ve never seen anything so lovely. It shimmers like the sunlight on the Hollow Pond.’

  ‘Never mind that, you silly girl. Take off your riding habit and let’s see if the frock fits. If it doesn’t we’ve wasted a whole afternoon.’ Lil frowned, but there was a note of pride in her voice. ‘I’m not having you go to a ball looking like a dollymop. You’ll outshine Miss Susannah or my name ain’t Lilian Heavitree.’

  On the evening of the ball Eloise was still not feeling well enough to chaperone Susannah and Angel, but as Hector was accompanying them she had not raised any objections. He was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs, looking dashing as ever in his dress uniform. Susannah trailed her gloved hand on the balustrade as she descended slowly, leaving a cloud of heady perfume in her wake. Her gown, in crimson silk, was trimmed lavishly with black lace, with the overskirt drawn back into an elaborate bustle, and a long train. Angel had to watch her step or she might have trodden on it with disastrous consequences.

  ‘You look like an empress, Sukey,’ Hector said gallantly, but his smile faded and his eyes widened when he saw Angel. ‘Great heavens, who would have thought that the little duckling my uncle brought here one Christmas would have turned into a beautiful swan?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Hector.’ Susannah came to a halt, fixing him with a stony stare. ‘It’s amazing what one of Mama’s old frocks, cut down by the inexpert hands of the kitchen maids, can do for a girl from the streets.’

  Hector’s winged eyebrows snapped together in an ominous frown. ‘That was mean even by your standards, Susannah. I want you to apologise to Angel. She looks lovely and whoever altered the gown has worked wonders. No one would know that it hadn’t been made by the same hand that created your theatrical garment.’

  ‘Are you saying I’m overdressed?’ Susannah demanded angrily.

  ‘I’m surprised that Mama approved of something as elaborate and colourful, especially for an unmarried girl.’

  ‘I don’t see why I should apologise for looking stylish,’ Susannah said, pouting.

  ‘Don’t spoil the evening, Sukey. You’re beautiful and you know it. I’m sure Westwood will fall at your feet when he sees you.’

  The tension between brother and sister was broken by the appearance of Toby, who rushed downstairs, struggling with his bow tie. ‘I’ve changed my mind, Hector, I’m coming to the ball, but I’m in need of assistance. I’ve been struggling with this wretched thing for half an hour or more.’

  Susannah stamped her foot. ‘Really, Toby, you’re impossible.’

  ‘Come here, you buffoon.’ Hector placed his hat and gloves on a side table while he fixed his brother’s tie. ‘You’ve lost a collar stud. You really are a disaster, old man.’

  ‘I have a spare.’ Toby felt in his waistcoat pocket and took out a stud. ‘I’m always losing the damned things so I carry a couple of extras with me at all times.’

  Hector tried and failed. ‘You’ll have to take your tie off and start again.’

  ‘Let me have a go.’ Angel took off her gloves. ‘I remember helping Uncle Joseph with his collar studs. There’s a knack in it, especially when replacing one. Let’s see if I can remember how to do it.’ Within seconds she had it in place. ‘There you are, Toby. I hadn’t forgotten.’

  Susannah tapped Toby on the arm with her fan. ‘Come along, we’ll be late and the ball will have begun. Why do you always have to spoil things?’

  ‘Never mind, Sukey,’ Hector said pleasantly. ‘You always did like to make a grand entrance. Your audience will be waiting for you.’

  She rounded on him, her eyes narrowed. ‘If you call me Sukey once more I’ll forget that I’m a lady and I’ll scratch your eyes out.’

  ‘I always knew she had talons,’ Toby said, chuckling. He seized Susannah by the hand and dragged her towards the door. ‘I pity poor Westwood if you get your claws into him, you wildcat.’

  Hector proffered his arm to Angel. ‘Might I have the pleasure of the first dance, Miss Winter?’

  The twinkle in his eyes was impossible to resist. ‘I’ll have to check my card, Captain Devane, but I think it might be arranged.’ Angel smiled up at him. Despite Susannah’s tantrum it was going to be a wonderful evening.

  Flaming torches set at intervals along the carriage sweep led the way to the imposing entrance of Westwood Hall. Built in the Palladian style, it was a large country house set squarely in open parkland. A liveried footman hurried to open the carriage door, and Hector and Toby stepped down to help the girls alight. Susannah laid her hand on Hector’s arm, clearly intending to make a grand entrance, leaving Angel to follow with Toby. The spacious hall was lit by dozens of candles, and the scent of warm beeswax mingled with the perfume of white lilies, roses and jasmine. Angel realised that her attempts at flower arranging paled into insignificance when compared with the spectacular displays spilling over from silver urns and cut-glass vases, placed on every available surface. Music floated through from the ballroom and they were greeted by Sir Eugene Westwood with Rupert and Blanche at his side.

  Susannah did not bother to hide her annoyance when Hector claimed Angel for the first dance, but Angel was in heaven. Her feet hardly seemed to touch the ground as the orchestra played a Viennese waltz and Hector held her in his arms, whirling her round until she was dizzy with delight. She danced the quadrille with Toby, and Rupert claimed her for a lively polka, leaving Susannah to take the floor with Sir Eugene.

  When Angel returned to their table she was dismayed to find Blanche seated beside Hector. She was talking animatedly and Hector was listening with what appeared to be rapt attention. A worm of jealousy crawled into Angel’s heart and suddenly Blanche took on the aura of a vile temptress – a siren who was luring Hector with her lovely voice. Angel took a deep breath and forced her cold lips into a smile. She was being ridiculous, and she knew it. Hector was his own man and Blanche was both beautiful and an heiress. It was a match made in heaven and she, Angel Winter, the foundling child, was not even in the running.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Winter,’ Rupert said with a courtly bow. ‘May I get you some refreshment? A glass of fruit punch, perhaps?’

  Angel sank on a chair beside Blanche.
‘That would be lovely. It was a very lively polka.’

  ‘It was indeed.’ He glanced over his shoulder as his father came towards them with Susannah on his arm. ‘Miss Devane, might I bring you a glass of fruit punch?’

  Angel could see that Susannah was still simmering with resentment, but she gave Rupert a sweet smile and accepted his offer. Sir Eugene handed her into a chair opposite Angel.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Devane. I regret I must leave you now and do my duty as a host, but I hope you might have another dance free after supper.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to save one for you, Sir Eugene.’ Susannah’s smile faded as he walked away and she leaned across the table, fixing Angel with a warning look. ‘Keep away from Rupert,’ she hissed. ‘He’s not for you.’

  The words ‘It’s not me you need to worry about’ hovered on Angel’s lips but remained unspoken. She could not betray Dolly’s secret, nor could she bring herself to dash Susannah’s hopes, even though she was being particularly trying this evening. Angel could understand this latest show of animus, even if it was aimed at the wrong person. Rupert Westwood’s heart was already lost, but to someone that Susannah would have thought the most unlikely recipient. The truth would hurt even more deeply than if Susannah’s suspicions had been correct. For a man from such an illustrious family to form a liaison with a servant would bring disgrace upon his good name and ultimate ruin for Dolly. Angel reached out to lay her hand on Susannah’s. ‘You need not worry about me. I think he’s very handsome and charming, but that’s all, and he was being chivalrous by asking me to dance.’

  Susannah shrugged and looked away. ‘Of course I knew that.’

  Hector turned his head. ‘Are you two arguing again?’

  ‘Mind your own business, Hector,’ Susannah said with a bright smile. ‘We were just discussing dance partners.’ She fixed her gaze on Blanche. ‘Did my brother tread on your toes?’

  ‘That’s not fair.’ Blanche blushed prettily. ‘Hector is the perfect partner in every way.’

  ‘I was joking, you silly goose,’ Susannah said airily. ‘Of course Hector is good at anything he chooses to do. We all agree on that, don’t we, Angel?’

  ‘Susannah has such a wicked sense of humour,’ Angel said hastily.

  ‘You’ll get used to my sister in time, Blanche.’ Hector rose to his feet as the orchestra struck up a mazurka. ‘Are you willing to risk having your toes trodden on, Angel?’

  She had thought he was going to ask Blanche to dance, but he was smiling and holding out his hand, and it would have been impossible to refuse. She could feel Blanche’s eyes boring into her back as she walked onto the crowded floor, but as the music started all the other couples seemed to melt into nothingness. Angel had only practised the mazurka once or twice, but when Hector took her hand she found it easy to follow the steps, and she began to relax and enjoy herself. It was an elegant dance and Hector was seemingly an expert. She wondered how many ladies he had partnered in the past, and how many hearts he had broken, but that seemed unimportant – he was hers for as long as the orchestra kept playing.

  It was over all too soon and they rejoined their party. It was Blanche’s turn to give Angel a look that would have curdled milk, which was some consolation. After all, if a lady like Blanche Westwood could be jealous of a foundling, there might yet be hope for her.

  Angel accepted a cup of fruit punch from Rupert and drank it down thirstily. This might be her first and last ball and she was determined to enjoy every minute. But disappointment almost overcame her when Hector escorted Blanche into the supper room. Long tables were set with white damask cloths where crystal glassware sparkled in the candlelight, and silver epergnes were filled with fruits and flowers. Toby pulled up a chair for Angel and she sat down next to Rupert with Susannah on his right. Hector and Blanche were on the opposite side of the table.

  Toby slumped onto the chair beside Angel. ‘Dashed boring affairs, but at least the food looks good and I’m starving.’ He glanced at Angel’s empty plate as he helped himself from a salver of cold ham and tongue. ‘What’s the matter? Lost your appetite?’

  Angel was not hungry and her stays were laced so tightly that she doubted if she could manage to eat anything more substantial than an ice cream or a spoonful or two of one of the enormous wobbling and shimmering fruit jellies. ‘I’m not very hungry, Toby.’

  He summoned a footman with an imperious wave of his hand. ‘A strawberry ice cream for the lady.’

  ‘That wasn’t necessary,’ Angel said, glancing anxiously at Hector, but his attention was fixed on Blanche, who was talking animatedly.

  ‘Now that would be a match made in heaven,’ Toby said, grinning. ‘The Westwood fortune might save Grantley from bankruptcy.’

  Angel stared at him in horror. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  He speared a slice of tongue on his fork. ‘Didn’t you know? I thought everyone was aware of our shaky finances. Uncle Dolph is hopeless with money, and Mama was left penniless when our father died.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Angel murmured, acknowledging the footman with a hint of a smile as he placed a glass dish filled with strawberry ice cream on the table in front of her.

  ‘Papa was a gambler,’ Toby said casually. ‘Lost everything and walked out in front of a brewer’s dray, leaving Mama to cope on her own. I don’t know where we would have been if Uncle Dolph hadn’t taken us in.’

  ‘That’s terrible. I didn’t realise that he committed suicide.’

  ‘No reason why you would. It’s not the sort of thing to brag about, but it means that Hector, Humpty and I have to earn our living, or marry heiresses, or rich widows.’ He attacked his food with relish, leaving Angel to eat her ice cream in silence, but every time she glanced at Hector she had visions of him walking down the aisle in the village church with Blanche on his arm, and her appetite deserted her. Susannah was doing her best to charm Rupert, and Angel realised with a pang of guilt that the reason for Susannah’s determination to marry well was one of survival and not avarice. The news that Grantley was in financial difficulties brought back memories of her comfortable childhood with Aunt Cordelia and Uncle Joseph, which had ended so abruptly. If the family lost Grantley she could see the past repeating itself: finding herself homeless again, and living on the streets of London was a distinct possibility.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Toby demanded. ‘You were miles away.’

  She came back to earth with a start. ‘Yes, I’m sorry. I was thinking about what you just told me. How terrible for Aunt Eloise to be living with the threat of losing everything yet again. No wonder she suffers from megrims.’

  ‘I dare say we’ll manage,’ Toby said casually. ‘When I pass my law examinations I’ll be in a position to help Mama. I rather fancy myself as a country solicitor, doing as little work as possible and spending my spare time hunting and fishing.’ He glanced at her empty plate. ‘How was the ice cream? I’m not sure if I fancy that or a plateful of jelly. On the other hand the tipsy cake looks good.’

  ‘You’d better marry a wealthy woman, Toby. With your love of good food she had better have a large fortune so that she can keep you in style.’

  He chuckled and reached for a slice of tipsy cake.

  The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, but as far as Angel was concerned the magic was lost. All she could think of was the threat to Grantley and the life she had come to enjoy and the people she had come to love. The thought of losing everything for a second time was almost too much to bear, but the only person who noticed a change in her mood was Hector. She had, at his request, saved the last waltz for him. If she had not been so preoccupied with the news that Toby had so casually imparted, she might have wondered why he chose to honour her, and not the beautiful Blanche, with the last dance, but until they were whirling around the floor the thought had not occurred to her.

  ‘What’s the matter, Angel?’ Hector tightened his clasp on her hand. ‘You’ve lost some of the glow you had earlier. Are yo
u tired?’

  ‘Not at all. I’m perfectly all right, thank you.’

  ‘There’s something wrong, I can tell.’

  It was neither the time nor the place to tell him what she knew and she shook her head. ‘Perhaps I am a bit tired. It’s been an exciting evening.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself.’

  Angel had promised herself she would not ask the question, but she could not stop herself. ‘What I don’t understand is why you’re dancing with me and not Blanche?’

  If he was startled he hid it well. ‘Perhaps I prefer dancing with my adopted cousin.’

  ‘Or maybe someone had claimed her first and you missed your opportunity?’

  ‘What does it matter? I haven’t trodden on your toes, as far as I know.’

  ‘She’s rich and beautiful. Blanche Westwood is the catch of the county, according to Susannah.’

  ‘I see where this is leading. Toby told about our precarious financial position, didn’t he?’

  ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘My brother is a man of few words, which is odd for someone training to be a lawyer, but I could see by the look on your face that he was revealing something that shocked you. You would not make a good poker player, Angel.’

  ‘I was really sorry to hear it. Your poor mama must be so worried.’

  ‘My uncle and I have managed to keep the worst of it from Mama. She’s had enough to put up with and she’s delicate. I think losing Grantley would be too much for her to bear.’

  ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘Nothing at the moment. We’re paying the interest on the mortgage that Uncle Dolph took out on Grantley, and we’ll find a solution somehow. You mustn’t worry, and please don’t repeat any of this to Susannah. She doesn’t know, and it would serve no purpose to upset her unnecessarily. Luckily she has her heart set on marrying a wealthy man, although I think Sir Eugene might be a bit old for her.’

  Angel turned her head and caught sight of Susannah locked in Sir Eugene’s arms. There was something about the way that he was holding himself, and the angle of his head as he looked into Susannah’s eyes that made her wonder if the gentleman was looking for a young wife. Rupert was dancing with a pretty blonde girl who was flirting outrageously and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Angel had never experienced such happiness as she was feeling now, but the lives and loves of those around her were as tangled and intricate as a spider’s web, and she knew that her own personal bubble might burst at any moment.