The sound of the door opening and closing jerked him from his reverie; a moment later, he heard a low murmur of voices, and footsteps approaching. Evidently a couple had come here in search of privacy. Well, he would wait until they had gone past him, and then he would slip back into the ballroom, unobserved. It was time he was getting back, in any event.
But the newcomers did not pass; instead, they halted only a few paces away from where he was sitting, and directly in the way he would have to take to reach the door. He cursed his luck, then consoled himself with the thought that they might continue walking in a few minutes, thus giving him a chance to escape. In the meantime, they could not see him; and although he could dimly make out two figures through the foliage, he could not see enough to recognize who they were. He shrank back into his seat with an impatient movement. The next moment, he jerked himself bolt upright as he recognized Georgiana’s voice. He could hear every word quite clearly.
She spoke in an impatient tone. ‘I mustn’t be long absent from the ballroom, so whatever you wish to say, sir, I beg you will be brief.’
‘I will do my best, but you cannot understand, Miss Georgiana — you don’t know what torments I have endured!’ answered her escort In spite of its husky, emotional tone, Graham had no difficulty in identifying this voice as Curshawe’s. ‘I can’t keep silent any longer! It is too much to see that fellow Pamyngton always at your side.’
‘I have known Pam for a very long time,’ said Georgy, soothingly. ‘Pray don’t be absurd, Mr. Curshawe!’
‘There, you see — you call him by a nickname, but I am always Mr. Curshawe! If only you could bring yourself to call me by my Christian name! Miss Georgy — you must allow me to tell you’
It seemed to Graham, now feeling decidely uneasy, that Georgiana cut very quickly into Curshawe’s speech, as though determined at all costs to avoid having to hear the end of it.
‘But everyone calls Lord Pamyngton Pam’,’ she objected, quickly. ‘The nickname was given him in his schooldays, and has stuck to him ever since. And I have known you only a very short time, sir — it would not be at all proper for me to use your Christian name — I wonder you should think of such a thing! What would your mother say, do you suppose?’
‘To tell you the truth, I don’t care!’ replied Curshawe, with a recklessness that was very different from his usual dry, measured style of speech. ‘I cannot bring myself to consider anyone’s opinions or feelings except yours — and I think of yours all the time! I keep wondering what you really think of me, and whether I stand any chance at all with you’
‘Oh, no!’ exclaimed Georgy, forcibly. ‘Pray don’t say any more, Mr. Curshawe!’
Graham crouched in his comer with clenched fists and a ferocious expression on his face. The last thing he wanted was to eavesdrop on this abominable conversation, but what could he do, at this stage? To step out of his concealment now would only give acute embarrassment to all three of them. He ought to have made his presence known at once, but he had thought then that the couple would stroll past him, leaving him free to return to the ballroom unnoticed. He could not even make any attempt to move farther into the conservatory out of earshot because any movement on his part now would almost certainly lead to his discovery. The only possible course was to stay where he was, hoping that they would soon go, and meanwhile do his best not to listen. He made an honest attempt at this for a few minutes, but soon had to abandon it. The voices were too close at hand and the conversation of too much concern to him to be ignored.
‘I must! I cannot keep silent any longer! You must let me tell you how very much I admire you, Miss Georgiana, and that the dearest wish of my heart –‘
‘No!’
Agitatedly, she tried to stem the flow of words; but Curshawe was evidently well into his stride, thought Graham grimly, and brushed her exclamation heedlessly aside.
‘… is to make you my wife. Oh, yes, I know that I should first have approached your father for permission to pay my addresses to you in form. But you will surely forgive my importunity, now that at last you know what a restraint I have been putting upon myself all these weeks! It is more than flesh and blood can bear! Miss Georgy, do not turn away from me! I beg of you, give me some answer — some hope!’
‘I am honoured by your declaration, sir,’ said Georgy, in hurried, embarrassed tones, ‘but I did not wish you to make it — you must have seen that I tried to prevent you. And now we really must return to the ballroom, or our absence will be remarked.’
‘And is that all you have to say?’ He sounded quite distracted. ‘Will you leave me without one word of hope? No, you cannot be so cruel, Miss Georgy, indeed you can’t!’
Evidently at this point she was turning towards the door that led into the ballroom, and he must have tried to detain her.
‘Kindly let me go,’ she said coldly. ‘I can say no more than I have done — it would be quite wrong in me to lead you on to hope for something that can never be.’
‘Why must it never be?’ he demanded, in heated, jealous tones. ‘Is there someone else?’
‘Really, Mr. Curshawe, you have no right to ask such a question! It is a great deal too bad of you to importune me in this way — and I don’t propose to endure it for another moment. Be good enough to unhand me at once!’
‘You don’t need to answer me, for I know the answer already’
‘Release me at once, or I shall scream!’
At this juncture, Graham decided reluctantly that he must intervene. He felt a certain amount of sympathy for Curshawe, for it seemed to him that if Georgiana had been anything other than the minx she surely must be she would have found some way to discourage his suit long before this. But even allowing for the emotional upheaval that Curshawe was undergoing at the moment, the fellow was behaving badly. If he persisted, there was bound to be a scene that would attract the attention of those in the ballroom. He half rose from the bench, just as Curshawe flung the rest of his unfinished sentence at Georgy.
‘There is someone else, and I know who it is, too! It is Lord Pamyngton!’
It was not this that made Graham pause, but the sound of fresh footsteps approaching. And then he heard another voice, cool and amused, yet with a certain bite in its tone.
‘You spoke my name, I think, Curshawe? Is there any way in which I can serve you?’
An uneasy silence fell for a few minutes.
Graham peered through the screen of foliage, anxious now to see what was happening. He could not do more than make out the three figures standing close together, however.
‘Miss Georgiana and I were in the middle of a private conversation’ began Curshawe, in a nettled tone.
‘Please take me back to the ballroom, Pam!’ said Georgy suddenly, in an uncertain voice.
‘By all means — that is what I came to do. Your brother Hugh wishes to dance with you, for one thing. By your leave, Curshawe’
He must have swept out with Georgiana, for Graham heard their retreating footsteps, and saw the solitary figure standing there, muttering curses under his breath.
After a time, Curshawe seemed to pull himself together, and he, too, left the conservatory. Graham jumped up from his seat at once, unwilling to remain any longer in a situation that might again place him in danger of playing the eavesdropper to other embarrassing scenes. His heart was heavy. He had come there trying to reason himself out of the spell which Georgiana Eversley had cast upon him; and even though he told himself that he was leaving with that spell quite broken, he could not feel altogether glad of it.
CHAPTER 13
A Reproof From Hugh
Graham had lost all interest in the ball, and would have liked to leave at once. But it was difficult to do so without giving offence, and moreover there was Anne to be considered. While he had been absent, she had been dancing with Freddy Eversley. As soon as her cousin reappeared in the ballroom, she came up to him with sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed with pleasure, saying how much she was enjoying
the evening.
‘I’m glad of that,’ he replied, absently. ‘I find it a bit tedious myself, and was wondering if we might get away before long.’
Her face fell, but she tried to conceal her dismay. ‘If you wish, of course, Cousin John. But won’t it appear discourteous if we leave too early? We have no real excuse for doing so.’
He gave a twisted smile; he could not bring himself to cut short what he knew was to her a very rare pleasure.
‘No, of course not. You are quite right. And if you’ll dance with me again, I’m quite sure I shall recover my spirits.’
‘Of course I will!’ She looked gratified at this unexpected compliment, making him feel something of a hypocrite.
So they remained until the end, although they were among the first to go. John Graham partnered a good many of the ladies present, but he did not again ask Georgiana to dance, even though on one occasion she gave him an opportunity to do so. They came face to face during one of the movements of the dance, and were able to exchange a few words. Georgy began the conversation.
‘I hope,’ she said, almost diffidently, ‘that I did not offend you when I had to refuse to dance with you a little while ago.’
‘Not at all,’ he replied, stiffly.
‘Oh!’ She flashed him an arch smile. ‘I thought I must have done, for you haven’t spoken to me since.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’
He saw the quick flush rise in her cheeks and a momentary pang shot through him. Although at present he was feeling that she thoroughly deserved his offhand treatment, it was hard to mete it out to one so lovely. He might have relented, but the movements of the dance bore her away from him, and the moment was over. He scarcely set eyes on her for the remainder of the evening, although he was hardly conscious of anyone else in the room.
In spite of Graham’s abstraction, he did notice that Curshawe was drinking heavily. Towards the end of the evening the now intoxicated man became involved in an incident with Pamyngton which might have turned ugly but for the prompt action of Hugh Eversley.
At the moment when supper was announced, Pamyngton had just finished dancing with Georgiana, and it was natural that he should offer her his arm to lead her into the supper room. But even as he did so, Curshawe, flushed with wine and breathing somewhat heavily, also presented himself at her side. Georgiana, after giving him a look of disgust, turned towards her previous partner. Before she could lay her hand upon Pamyngton’s arm, Curshawe thrust him roughly aside.
‘Damn you, you shall not take her in’ he grunted menacingly.
Pamyngton raised a delicate eyebrow. ‘Recollect where you are, my friend,’ he advised, in a low voice. ‘This is not a Covent Garden tavern.’
‘I am no friend of yours,’ retorted Curshawe, in slurred accents, ‘and I’ll wager you’re more often to be found in low taverns than I am! Clear off, for I mean to take Miss Georgy in to supper.’
‘You’re in no state to take any lady in to supper. Go and take a damper, man.’
Curshawe drew nearer to Pamyngton, and thrust his heated face close to the other man’s. ‘You say I’m foxed, do you?’ He raised his voice, and several people looked round, staring at the group in shocked surprise. ‘Damme, I’ll not stand here and be insulted by such as you! You shall meet me for this — name your seconds, sir!’
‘Don’t be a damned fool,’ said Pamyngton, softly. ‘Can’t you see you’re making a scene? If you have any consideration at all for Miss Eversley, you’ll make some effort to behave like a gentleman.’
‘That’s it!’ The drunken man was beside himself now. ‘Add one insult to another! Name your seconds, I say!’
‘Curshawe, for God’s sake ‘ began Pamyngton, still keeping his tone low in an effort to diminish the growing attention around them.
‘Will you meet me?’ The question was almost a shout.
‘Of course not — do you suppose I’ll allow a man in his cups to call me out? Go and put your head in a bucket of water, there’s a good chap.’
‘Coward!’
Pamyngton’s eyes flashed at the word, and his fists clenched automatically. But he kept a strong hold on himself; and, withdrawing from the angry face that was thrust close to his, he turned to offer his arm to Georgiana again. Curshawe whipped round, almost lost his balance, then righted himself and grabbed at Pamyngton’s arm.
‘Coward, I say! You’ll fight with me, even if I have to force you to it — like this!’
He raised his fist to smash it into his rival’s face.
At that moment, his wrist was seized in an iron grip and his body jerked round suddenly. He looked up with a fierce, though hazy expression, and found himself confronting the six foot length of Beau Eversley.
‘My dear Curshawe,’ said Hugh, in soothing accents. ‘You are not well. Fortunately, we have a medical man among us.’ Without relaxing his grip on the inebriated Curshawe, he turned to address Graham, who at the time was standing only a few feet away. ‘If you would be so good, my dear fellow — our friend here is feeling the heat a trifle, I fancy, and is quite dizzy. If we could help him into another room, perhaps you could do something to alleviate his symptoms. I am sorry to trouble you, but you see how it is. My brother George will assist you.’
By this time both Hugh’s brothers had noticed the disturbance, and had quickly ranged themselves at his side. Graham nodded in brief understanding, and moved forward to join them.
‘Not go with you,’ muttered Curshawe, obstinately, but with less fire. ‘Don’t want any damned medico — spechully not that one! Won’t go an’ leave that Pam’ton fellow to take Miss Georgy into supper.’
‘No,’ agreed Hugh, smoothly, releasing Curshawe and drawing Georgiana’s arm, which was now trembling slightly, through his. ‘I myself intend to lead my sister in to supper. Will that satisfy you? Now will you go, like a good chap? You are not at all the thing, you know.’
Curshawe’s face took on a slightly mollified look. ‘Right as a trivet,’ he protested, feebly. ‘But I’ll go to oblige you — my host, after all — can’t be uncivil to one’s host’
His voice tailed off into silence. Graham and George Eversley, who had moved one to each side of him as soon as Hugh relaxed his grip, quickly took an arm each and led the now subdued man quietly away.
Pamyngton let out a long breath. ‘Phew! you arrived in the nick of time, Beau. I could do nothing with the besotted fool, and it was all I could manage not to lose my own temper.’
The guests who had so lately been staring now recollected the rules of good breeding, and turned to go into the supper room. Hugh wheeled Georgy round to join them.
‘You managed superbly, Pam,’ he approved. ‘As for Curshawe, although I deplore his behaviour, I must allow him a certain provocation.’ He glanced severely at his sister as he spoke.
‘Oh, it was dreadful!’ shuddered Georgiana, trying to ignore her brother’s look. ‘I am so thankful that Susan had retired early, and that Mrs. Curshawe and Caroline were right at the other end of the room, and cannot have noticed anything! I can’t understand it — he is such a very proper man as a rule — scarcely the kind to make a scene in any circumstances, one would think! Of course, I know he was inebriated –‘
‘Yes, Georgy,’ agreed her brother, giving her another stem, serious look. ‘But why? As you say, he is normally a temperate, even a formal man, unwilling to flout any of the conventions, or draw any attention down upon himself. Yet such a man suddenly makes an unpleasant scene among a crowd of people. I ask you again — why?’
‘Oh, how should I know?’ asked Georgy, petulantly. ‘I suppose he wouldn’t be the first man who was unable to hold his liquor! Stop quizzing me, Hugh, and let us go in!’
‘Very well. But you and I are going to have a serious talk, my girl, before you’re very much older.’
She shrugged this off, and made a point of being especially gay and lively during supper. But after the ball was over, and the last carriage had rolled away,
Hugh drew her aside from the house guests. Curshawe had long since been put to bed, and most of the others were smothering yawns as one by one they bade their host good night. Only Pamyngton lingered at the foot of the staircase, eyeing Hugh speculatively as he guided Georgiana towards the library.
‘Good night, Pam,’ said Hugh pleasantly, but with an air of finality.
‘Oh — er — good night, Beau.’ Pamyngton accepted his dismissal in good part. ‘Good night, Miss Georgy.’
Georgiana replied in a subdued voice, and allowed her brother to shepherd her into the library. Once there, he nodded towards two chairs which stood before a dying fire, and sat down in one himself.
‘It’s not worth having this fire made up,’ he remarked, as Georgy sank into the other chair with an air of fatigue. ‘We shan’t be here long, and the room is warm enough. You don’t feel cold?’
‘Quite the contrary,’ said Georgy, wielding her fan. ‘It was too warm everywhere else — the ballroom was beyond anything! But I’m fagged to death, Hugh. What do you want to say? Whatever it is, pray be brief, or I shall fall asleep here, I warn you!’
‘Very well, I’ll be brief.’ His unsmiling face made her heart sink. She was very fond of this eldest brother of hers, and had always paid more heed to him than she had to anyone else in her family circle. ‘Georgiana, I’ve reluctantly come to the conclusion that you’re a minx.’
She snapped her fan shut, and half rose from the chair. ‘Oh, well, if you’ve only brought me here in order to call me names’
‘Sit down!’ Rarely had she heard him so stern. ‘I’ll give you a chance to defend yourself in a moment — if you can! Meanwhile, you can listen to me.’ He looked into the green-flecked eyes which were so like his own. ‘Ever since you left that deuced dull seminary of yours, Georgy, you’ve been attracting the attentions of men, eligible and ineligible. How many is it who’ve already proposed marriage to you — six?’
The Toast of the Town Page 11
