‘Oh, is that all?’ asked Susan relieved. ‘What was the subject of the wager — or mayn’t I ask?’
Georgy shook her head. Susan looked doubtful again.
‘As long as you didn’t undertake to do anything dangerous,’ she demurred.
To her surprise, Georgy laughed.
‘Not in the least dangerous.’
‘Oh, well, that’s all right then. But why,’ asked Susan, as the thought suddenly struck her, ‘were Lord Pamyngton and Mr. Curshawe shocked at your entering into a wager with your own brother? Surely even a veritable stickler for the proprieties couldn’t object to that? And — yes, Georgy! You’re keeping something back, I know! — why should you be so convinced that Hugh would disapprove, and that even I might, too?’ She took Georgy’s arm, and looked at her coaxingly. ‘What is this wager? Come, I think you’d better tell me!’
Georgy shook her head, and rose from the bed. ‘No, not now. I will tell you at some time, never fear, but not just at present. No, it’s no use to argue or cajole, Sue’ — as her sister-in-law began to protest — ‘my mind is quite made up. Let’s change the subject. What shall I wear at the ball tomorrow?’
Beau Eversley had at first been a little doubtful about his wife’s scheme — largely inspired by Georgy — to give an informal ball for their guests and the neighbouring gentry. He feared that the excitement might be unwise in her present condition. But Susan had insisted that something of the kind was due to their guests, and that she could enjoy watching others dance almost as much as taking part herself. Eventually he agreed on condition that numbers should be kept down, and that Susan should retire early from the festivities, leaving Georgy to play the port of hostess. Invitations had accordingly been sent out to a score or so of their neighbours. There had, of course, been an invitation for Georgy’s friend, Dr. Graham; and his cousin Miss Anne Hume had been included since Georgy’s accident.
Seeing that she was not likely to persuade Georgy to tell her anything more at present, Susan allowed the subject to be changed. After a short session spent in pulling out gowns and debating their rival merits or de-merits, Susan went away to write some letters, and Georgy tidied her tumbled hair and left her room.
She found Pamyngton standing at the foot of the staircase as she descended it. She was still out of humour, and would have passed him without speaking, but he gently detained her.
‘I know it’s not at all the same thing,’ he said, with a disarming smile, ‘but I wondered if perhaps a spin in my curricle might help to console you for your lost ride?’
She looked for a moment as though she would refuse. Then she nodded. ‘Oh, I may as well.’
He bowed, and began to turn away to issue the necessary order for the curricle to be brought round from the stables. Something in his quiet manner made her relent.
‘I’m sorry, Pam,’ she said, impetuously. ‘That was uncommon rude of me, just because I felt cross. You are always so kind and forbearing and there are times when I don’t deserve it. I’ll fetch my bonnet and pelisse, and we’ll go directly.’
‘No hurry,’ he said. ‘I’ll await you in the parlour.’
She turned to run upstairs. The door of the parlour opened, and Henry Curshawe came out. He exclaimed in satisfaction on seeing Georgy.
‘Ah, Miss Georgy, I’m so pleased to have found you! Will you do me the honour to come for a drive with me? Your brother George has very kindly offered me the use of his curricle.’
‘Thank you, Mr. Curshawe, but I have already accepted a similar offer from Pam,’ Georgy replied, with her usual good humour. ‘Perhaps some other time.’
She continued on her way upstairs, and Pamyngton turned towards the parlour.
‘You timed your invitation well,’ Curshawe flung after him.
Pamyngton turned. ‘A great deal depends upon good timing, I find.’
He could not help a certain feeling of satisfaction in having managed to outwit Curshawe at last. It was to be short-lived. He had barely started along the road with Georgiana, now completely restored in spirits, sitting up beside him looking entrancing in a deep blue pelisse trimmed with white fur, when they heard the sound of following hoofs. A moment later, a horseman drew level with them, and they saw to their chagrin that it was Curshawe.
‘I thought I’d ride with you,’ he said, with the air of one conferring a favour. ‘You’ll only be jaunting along, I imagine, so we can go side by side.’
‘Not much room for that on these roads,’ replied Pamyngton coolly.
‘Oh, I don’t know. There’s very little traffic at present, and I can easily drop back if I see anything coming.’
There was nothing to be done but to suffer his presence with as good a grace as possible, and for some miles they travelled along side by side. Conversation was desultory. Curshawe’s presence inhibited the easy badinage which usually took place between Georgiana and Pamyngton, and he himself had nothing to contribute that his companions found either interesting or stimulating. Moreover, he could not always hear what passed between the two in the curricle; and he kept on demanding to be told what they had said, in a way which both found an irritation.
At length, Georgy showed signs of impatience with the whole business. ‘Let them go, Pam!’ she urged. ‘I’m tired of dawdling along in this tame manner! It was not for this that I accepted your offer of a drive!’
‘Do you think I should?’ he asked, looking down at her with a quizzical expression. ‘Curshawe may take it amiss, you know.’
‘What’s that you say, Pamyngton?’ queried Curshawe, sharply. ‘Did I hear you mention my name?’
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ exclaimed Georgy, sotto voce. ‘I tell you, Pam, if you think more of offending him than of pleasing me, I have done with you!’
Pamyngton grimaced, and leaned sideways to address the other man. ‘Nothing will do for Miss Georgy but that I should gallop my horses. Do you mind dropping back?’
Curshawe’s face clouded, and he muttered something which Pamyngton could not quite catch, but he drew away from the curricle, even if reluctantly.
Pamyngton straightened up in his seat, flung Georgy a mocking glance, and settled his hat more firmly on his head.
‘Hold tight, then!’
He dropped his hands, and the horses leapt forward.
Georgy’s heart lifted with exhilaration. This was living to the full, she thought, this swift movement that sent her blood coursing through her body, bringing the colour to her cheeks and making her eyes sparkle.
‘Faster!’ she urged. ‘Faster!’
And Pamyngton, briefly looking into that animated face, obeyed. The curricle sped like an arrow along the narrow white road, leaving Curshawe a very small blob in the distance.
‘This is prodigious!’ breathed Georgy. ‘It’s — oh! — better than anything I can think of!’
He smiled and shook his head at her, reining in his horses only slightly as they came to a braid in the road. When they had rounded the bend, he was about to give the animals their heads again; but he checked on seeing a stationary vehicle a little farther along on the other side of the road.
‘Afraid we’ll have to pass this at a more sedate pace,’ he warned her, indicating the vehicle with his whip.
She pouted in protest. ‘What a shame! Never mind — afterwards, we shall go even faster! What do you say, Pam?’
‘It shall be as you wish.’ He sounded amused. ‘But you are certainly an intrepid young lady — as Freddy once said, a devil to go.’
They were now close to the stationary vehicle, which was a gig. The driver of it seemed to be much occupied with his passenger, a young lady in a becoming pink bonnet, for he was leaning close to her and gazing earnestly into her eyes.
‘A pair of lovebirds, seemingly,’ murmured Pamyngton.
Georgy glanced at the occupants of the gig, then gave a start. They were none other than Dr. Graham and his cousin Anne Hume.
As the curricle drew close beside the gig to pass,
Graham turned away from his cousin, stowed away a handkerchief which he was holding, and immediately recognized Georgiana and Pamyngton.
He bowed and greeted them. Pamyngton returned the greeting, and courteously asked Miss Hume how she did.
‘Very well, I thank you,’ she replied, shyly. ‘That is to say, I did have some grit in my eye just now, but John has this minute removed it for me.’
Pamyngton gravely remarked that this was fortunate. ‘We shall look forward to seeing you both tomorrow,’ he concluded, ‘at Mrs. Eversley’s ball.’
There were smiles and bows on both sides, and the curricle drew past, continuing on its way.
Georgy looked back, and saw that the gig was also moving off; at the same moment Curshawe, riding hard, appeared round the bend.
‘Well?’ asked Pamyngton. ‘Shall I let them go again, before he catches up with us?’
Georgy shook her head. Her face was withdrawn. ‘No, not now. I am no longer in the mood for it. Pray take me home, Pam.’
CHAPTER 12
The Eavesdropper
John Graham hired a carriage from the local inn for the evening of the ball. He might be careless enough of his own consequence to arrive at Fulmer Towers in a gig, but he recognized that this would not do for his cousin.
‘I only hope the thing will hold together until we get there,’ he said doubtfully as he handed her into it ‘Damned if I ever saw such a ramshackle vehicle!’
Anne seated herself on the faded upholstery with a happy little smile on her face. ‘I think it’s splendid, Cousin John, really I do!’
He looked her over appraisingly. ‘It’s nothing like grand enough to match your finery tonight, Anne. That pink gown becomes you — and what on earth have you done to your hair?’
‘Don’t you like it?’ she asked, anxiously, carefully giving a pat to the elaborate Grecian coiffure which she had managed to achieve with the aid of her mother. ‘It — it doesn’t look absurd, does it? Mama said it does — but then she is a trifle old-fashioned in her views on dress’
‘No such thing,’ he replied, with another searching glance. ‘On the contrary, it makes you look all the crack — but not nearly so much like yourself, if you know what I mean.’
Anne did know what he meant, and her eyes shone. She had spent a great deal of time and most of her allowance in an endeavour to look different, to appear more exciting and interesting than usual. From his reply, she judged she had succeeded.
Her complacency was short-lived, however. When they arrived at Fulmer Towers, her first sight of Georgiana Eversley removed it immediately. Georgy was wearing a sea-green dress that flowed softly over her perfect figure; and that magnificent tawny hair of hers, thought Anne ruefully, glowing in the light of the chandeliers, could scarcely fail to draw every eye. She noticed with misgiving that it certainly did not fail to claim her cousin’s attention.
Although he greeted Georgiana briefly enough, passing on to chat for a while to her brother George, Anne saw that his eyes lingered on Miss Eversley whenever she chanced to come within his range of vision. Anne experienced the same sinking of spirits that she had felt once before, and almost decided that her evening was ruined.
As soon as the dancing began, she took a livelier view of matters. Her cousin partnered her not only for the first dance, which she had expected, but also for the second, which she had not. He was at his most gay and amusing, laughing at her fears that she might not get the steps right, and whirling her round with a careless grace that tugged at her heart. She tried to tell herself severely that she must not think tenderly of him. He had given absolutely no sign of thinking of her in any other than a cousinly way. But her heart now as light as her feet, refused to heed this sober counsel. Her grave brown eyes shone as she laughed in response to his light-hearted chatter. Pamyngton, who was partnering Georgy, glanced with an indulgent smile at the cousins, as they passed close to them.
‘Your doctor’s cousin is a pretty little creature,’ he remarked. ‘All brown and wholesome, like a sweet nut’
‘Lud, Pam, you’re lyrical, all of a sudden!’ scoffed Georgy. Her eyes rested thoughtfully on the pair, and the faintest of frowns creased her forehead. ‘Yes, she is pretty — she has changed her hair style, and it gives her a more arresting look.’
‘They appear very well pleased with each other,’ continued Pam, as they moved on. ‘How do you feel now about the likelihood of winning your wager with Freddy?’
‘Pray don’t mention that stupid wager again!’ said Georgy, with a snap. ‘Freddy had no business to tell you of it — and, anyway, it was all a joke!’
‘To hear is to obey,’ replied Pamyngton, smiling. ‘Only please don’t scowl at me so fiercely. It makes me lose my steps.’
She laughed. ‘As if anything could! But I beg your pardon — you must think me a sad wretch!’
‘Must I?’ he answered, in a different tone. ‘You’re quite wrong. Some day perhaps I may tell you what I really do think — but this is neither the time nor the place.’
She glanced briefly up at him. For a fleeting moment the expression in his eyes was unguarded. She looked away again quickly, with a slightly flustered, air.
When the dance came to an end, Freddy Eversley claimed Anne’s hand for the next. She acquiesced with a shy little smile, though she would far rather have danced with her cousin all evening, had this been possible. But such a breach of good manners was not to be thought of, even if John himself had shown any sign of wishing for it. Instead, he readily yielded her hand to the newcomer, and turned away to seek a fresh partner for himself.
He looked across the room to where Georgiana was standing amidst a small group of people, and he took a few steps in that direction. Then he halted, uncertain whether to continue. As he stood hesitating, Georgiana chanced to turn round, and their eyes met. The intervening space was crowded, but for the few moments that they shared this glance, it seemed to John Graham that there was no one else in the room but the two of them. It was an experience that he could never forget for the rest of his life.
He caught his breath, like someone who has just plunged into ice-cold water. Then he moved slowly towards her, as though dazed.
Afterwards, he could never remember the exact words he used to ask her for the next dance, although he could recall her answer quite clearly.
‘I am sorry, but I’m already promised for this dance.’
The simple words seemed to him to be charged with a special meaning. Or was it just that in this one moment of time he was living on a plane of higher sensitivity? For once in his experience, he felt out of his depth.
‘You can’t be!’ He answered her without thinking. ‘That’s to say — I won’t let you be!’
Her lovely green eyes widened. ‘But I am. Mr. Curshawe claimed this dance some time ago. I’m sorry — I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done — perhaps later on ‘
She broke off in confusion, as he still stood there silently regarding her as though he had never seen her before. A little colour came into her cheeks. She saw one or two people looking at them covertly, and she began to lose some of her poise. In another moment, she might had said something more; but Curshawe presented himself to lead her into the dance. She gave Graham one small, timid smile, and then she was gone.
He remained standing where he was until he suddenly realized that everyone else had moved from the spot, and he was conspicuously alone. A surge of alien emotions troubled him. He needed real solitude to master them, and cast about in his mind for somewhere he could go to be away from the crowd for a space. As the first chords of music struck up, he made his way to a conservatory which ran along one side of the house and which could be entered by a door leading off the ballroom.
The conservatory was quiet and dark. All kinds of exotic trees and shrubs grew here, and a few rustic benches were set well back in their shade, against the wall. The only faint light came from small coloured lanterns which had been hung here and there more for effect than for
illumination. He flung himself down on the first seat he came to; it was quite close to the door leading into the ballroom, but well screened from the view of anyone else who should chance to come that way. He had closed the door after him, and for the present he could be quite alone.
He needed to think. What had happened to him? He had shared a glance with a girl across a room full of other people, and instantly some mysterious element had entered his life. It was nonsense, of course. Although he had never experienced anything of the kind before, his medical mind, he told himself, could recognize it for what it was. It was no more than Nature up to her old tricks. Why, he did not even like or approve of Miss Eversley! She was spoilt, arrogant and selfish. In spite of himself, his mouth softened. She was also brave, frank and as disarming as a winsome child. But no matter for that, he thought sternly, this nonsense must stop at once. A man in his circumstances could not afford to nourish any tender feelings towards a female as much above his reach as she was. A society belle and a young doctor who, although well bom, had yet his way to make in the world!
The notion was ludicrous — it would certainly appear so to her family. It was not even as if medicine happened to be a particularly respected profession. Only consider the Gloucestershire surgeon Dr. Jenner who had recently toiled all the way up to London from his country home in order to try and interest people in this new discovery of his, the vaccination against smallpox. He had finally left in disgust and humiliation, because no one there would believe in its efficacy. Yet there could be little doubt, from the evidence, that vaccination was the best method so far discovered to beat that dreadful scourge which killed and disfigured thousands. This is what it would always be like for the doctor, thought Graham; a constant fight against ignorance and the fear of what was new. A girl like Georgiana, he realized suddenly, was just the kind of female to make a splendid partner in that fight. She was pluck to the backbone. He gave an impatient movement. What nonsense was he thinking now? She was as remote from him as the stars which gleamed outside in the October sky.
The Toast of the Town Page 10
