Antonia blinked in the dazzle of light from the two magnificent chandeliers suspended over the table. Despite having had three of its leaves removed to accommodate a party of only nine, the table still dominated the room with its burden of crystal, fine china and decorative pieces. '
With five women and four men the seating plan at the table was, of necessity, unbalanced. Lady Meredith, as hostess, had sought to overcome this as best she could: she and Marcus faced lone another down the length of the board. He had Lady Reed to his right and Antonia on his left. Lord Meredith on Antonia's left faced Miss Fitch and Miss Donaldson and Lady Meredith was flanked by Sir John and Mr. Leigh.
Conversation was at first general as servants poured the wine. Antonia chatted lightly to Marcus of the originality of the display of flowers down the centre of the table.
"Yes, the hothouses are producing particularly well this year," Marcus replied. "You must allow me to conduct you round them one day soon, Miss Dane. I would value your opinion on any improvements we might make."
Antonia's heart leapt at the use of the word 'we'. But no, she was reading too much into the word; doubtless he meant his gardening staff and not the two of them as man and wife.
The ambiguity had not been lost upon Claudia Reed either. Across the table, she glanced sharply from Antonia's flushed cheeks to Marcus's inscrutable expression and immediately began to talk to him of mutual acquaintances in London. "I do declare, Marcus," she drawled, touching his sleeve, 'your hothouses are now far superior even to Lord Melchitt's. I remember so clearly the advice you gave to him when we were in Bath last spring. " ~
She looked at Antonia as she spoke, her blue eyes signalling quite clearly the message that she and Marcus had a history, shared not only friends, but experiences, too.
Antonia smiled sweetly back, refusing to be drawn, and began to converse with Lord Meredith, who was offering her the dish of poached turbot. Marcus's chef had excelled himself: the fish dishes were followed by elaborate entrees of truffled roast chicken, glazed ham and roast larks in pastry cases.
Antonia caught Donna's eye across the table and smiled at her companion's carefully schooled expression.
After months of frugal housekeeping and good, plain fare culled from the land or their garden, this sumptuous menu with its rich sauces was almost overwhelming.
Lord Meredith proved to be genial and entertaining. Antonia guessed that he was less intellectual than his wife, and more concerned with his estates than with the arts or politics. He cast fond glances at his spouse, who appeared to be discussing the state of the Whigs with Sir John.
"Intelligent woman, my wife," he confided in Antonia with immense pride. "Don't understand why she finds politics so interesting--rather go hunting, myself~ ut I like to see her enjoying herself.~
Antonia followed his gaze and thought how magnificent her hostess looked, her strong features animated by intelligence as she rallied Mr.
Leigh on his views on the government.
She was guiltily aware she had been talking far too long to Lord Meredith and should be devoting some of her time to Marcus. It was an effort to turn back into Claudia Reed's glittering sights, but she did so, ~"Might I trouble you for the powdered sugar?" Marcus enquired, taking it and passing it to her ladyship who began to dip early strawberries into it before pressing them to her lips with little cries of pleasure.
Antonia regarded the spectacle with carefully veiled distaste, wondering exactly what was, or had been, the relationship between these two. Could she have been his mistress? Such things were not uncommon in polite society, she knew; after all, Marcus was no stripling, She could not, however, admire his taste.
And, if Claudia Reed were his mistress, what was she doing here when he was courting Antonia? Was he motivated simply by his desire for her lands and a degree of attraction to her? Antonia acknowledged that her breeding, if not her present circumstances, made her an acceptable match. But she was never going to be able to employ the wiles and artifice of such a highly finished piece of nature as Lady Reed.
"Marcus tells me that you and Miss ... er... Dickinson have set up housekeeping in some quaint Tudor ruin,~ Lady Reed smiled sweetly with her lips, but her eyes remained cold. " How quixotic of you! "
"Miss " Donaldson," Antonia corrected evenly. And indeed, it would be most quixotic if the Dower House were a ruin, but in fact it is a most channing place, requiring only a little care and attention to make it a. comfortable home once again."
"And that despite the headless ghoul," Marcus added with a shared smile towards Antonia.
"Will you never stop teasing me about my foolishness--' she began to replied but was interrupted by a squeak from Claudia.
"A ghost! Oh, Marcus, I am so relieved to be staying here at dear Brightshill! I know from past experience," she added to Antonia, 'that there are no spectres here. and, even if there were, I know Marcus would protect me. "
Only the memory of her own folly in flinging herself into Marcus's arms saved Antonia from making an acid rejoinder. Claudia's intention was quite plain: she had established that she had been a guest at Brightshill before--and perhaps more than just a guest. She spared a passing thought for Sir George Reed, drilling his troops at Brighton.
What was the man about to leave his wife to her own devices? Surely he must know her for what she was?
"Ladies? Shall we?" Lady Meredith was on her feet, gathering the attention of the female guests. "I suppose we must leave these wretches to their port, and what they always assure us is not gossip but a serious discussion of affairs!"
In the drawing-room, Anne Meredith linked arms with Antonia and began to stroll up and down the length of the room. "What a charming gown, my dear. May I ask who your modiste is--surely not a provincial dressmaker?"
Antonia was just deciding whether to be frank or to turn the question when she was saved by the intervention of Lady Reed, "Yes, channing simplicity-~almost naive, is it not? And that gold is such a difficult colour unless one is somewhat swarthy! For myself with my porcelain skin, I have to choose only the purest colours."
Antonia suppressed the desire to grind her teeth in the face of such comprehensive spite and replied, "How trying for you." Really, she fumed inwardly, men could be such fools. What did Marcu~ see in her?
Then she looked at the perfect figure, the pert bosom displayed by expensive dressmaking, the pouting red lips and told herself not to be such an innocent. And with Sir George so safely out of the way in Brighton it would not he ghosts wandering the corridors of Brightshill at midnight,:.
Antonia's first instinct was to have no more to do with Marcus. If he thought she was so complacent---or such a fool---as to tolerate his mistress, then he had sadly misjudged her character. Then the doors opened and the gentlemen rejoined the party and she looked across the room and saw him.
Marcus was standing in the doorway, regarding her without expression.
Haughtily Antonia raised her brows; in reply, his lips curved into a smile so intense, so full of promise that her resolution melted and her heart lurched with love for him. She smiled back into his eyes, seeing only him, conscious only of him, the sounds in the room fading into nothingness.
She was still arm-in-arm with her hostess and was jolted back to the moment by Anne exclaiming, "Ah, good! The gentlemen! What say you we make up a table or two of cards? Mead, set up the tables over here."
As the butler directed the footmen, Miss Fitch protested softly that she had no head for cards. "I am very foolish, I am afraid;' she confessed,
"Never say so!" Richard-Leigh protested, "Will you not play for us, instead? I would he delighted to turn the music for you." He waved aside her blushing protests, lifting the lid of the pianoforte and adjusting the stool for her. i'What piece shall we start with? " he asked her, coaxing her out of her shyness.
After a moment, under cover of the first bars of a Mozart air, Lady Meredith remarked, "How charming! The child really does play beautifully."
"If one has a liking for the insipid," Lady Reed commented. ~ "It is as well she has some talent to attract, I suppose, for she is otherwise unremarkable. So gauche!"
"No more so than any debutante of her age," Antonia retorted. "I find her refreshing. But then I have always preferred the natural to the contrived, and it would appear that I am not alone in my opinion." She nodded towards Mr. Leigh, who was assiduously turning the pages, his dark head bent close to Sophia's soft brown curls.
Lady Meredith skilfully turned the conversation, but not before Antonia had caught a gleam of approbation in her eyes. It seemed to Antonia that her hostess had no more liking for Claudia than she, which made it even more obvious that the woman was there not at her invitation but at Marcus's.
"Now, let us set to partners," Lord Meredith exclaimed, tearing open the seal on the first pack of cards. "Miss Donaldson, do you care to play?"
"Well, my lord, I must confess a distinct partiality for whist," Donna admitted.
Antonia laughed. "I warn you, my lord, she is a demon player!"
"In that case," Lady Meredith declared, "I shall claim her for my partner."
"Then I will parmer you, Meredith," Sir John offered, 'unless either of you ladies, or you, Arlington, wish to take my place. No? Very well then, Meredith, I am with you and we must hope the ladies will be gentle with us! "
Antonia moved to a sofa where she could listen to the music and watch the card players. Lady Reed, sighing heavily, drifted off to the-other end of the room where she posed decoratively against a table and began to turn over the pages of an album of engravings.
Marcus was turning towards Antonia when his sister called to him.
"Marcus, I need you! This hand is beyond everything--if I do not have your assistance, I must throw it in immediately."
To cries of "Unfair!" from the men, Marcus pulled up a chair and sat at his sister's side.
Antonia sat, the intricate melody on the edges of her consciousness, her eyes on Marcus as he teased his sister, dropping his head-into his hands as she played a disastrous card. He was totally natural and at ease, his good humour and his affection for his sister evident.
Antonia had known for some time that she was in love with him, but seeing him like this, all his coldness and arrogance gone, she realised she liked him very much as well. And she could not deny that she could imagine herself mistress of Brightshi! She sat there, warmed by her thoughts, dreaming a little, unheeding of time when she was brought back to the present by laughter at the card table.
Lord Meredith was totalling points and saying teasingly to his wife,
"My dear, you and I will play the next robber together and permit Miss Donaldson a partner more worthy of her skills!"
The table broke up and reset tied itself amid Miss Donaldson's laughing protests and Marcus got to his feet, strolling over to the sofa where Antonia sat.
"Antonia, I feel in need of some fresh air. Will you join me on the terrace? It is quite warm."
"Yes, I would like that." She looked up into his face, her dark eyes meeting his frankly. She saw his face change, soften, as he extended his hand to her and led her towards the long windows, which were open on to the balmy night. He handed her across the low threshold, then, when they were both standing on the flagstones, tucked her hand under his elbow and strolled towards the balustrade.
Antonia watched their shadows precede them across the terrace, lengthening as the light diminished behind them. Her heart beat strong but steady and her certainty grew that Marcus would take her in his arms as soon as they were out of view.
He led her round the corner of the terrace, into the moonlight that bathed the garden. Moths fluttered around and the perfume of night-scented stock hung heavy on the warm air. Neither of them spoke.
Antonia rested her hands on the cool roughness of the stone balustrade, quite content to wait for what would come.
The fine cloth of Marcus's sleeve brushed against her arm, and so aware was she of him that it felt like his touch. After a long moment, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him.
Antonia tipped up her face trustingly, inviting his lips, When the kiss came she returned it with ardour, melting into his embrace.
She was very conscious of his body hard against hers, of his breathing, of his desire for her. Finally he freed her mouth and looked down at her. His face was shadowed, but she could still read the question in his eyes. ~ "Yes, Marcus,? she said simply. " Yes? "
"I will be your wife."
He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. "You have made me a happy man." It seemed as if he were about to claim her lips again, but he checked him, self, glancing over her shoulder towards the house: "Come, let us rejoin the others, I would not have our absence remarked upon."
Despite her happiness, Antonia felt a tiny chill at his correctness, his formality. She wanted him to sweep her up, cover her face with kisses, say how much he loved her. As they rounded the corner of the terrace, Antonia glimpsed a figure slip back through the far windows and recognised Claudia's flounced skirts.
Perhaps that was why he was being so restrained--he
wanted to protect her from Lady Reed's acid tongue. There was time enough to talk of love when they could be sure they were alone.
Chapter Eight
Antonia felt she was floating across the threshold, hardly needing Marcus's guiding hand on her arm. She was so ~with happiness that she felt everyone in the room must be aware of it the moment they looked at them. It seemed they had been gone for hours, yet the card game was still in progress, Miss Fitch was still playing her pretty airs on the pianoforte and the clock on the mantel was just chiming eleven.
"Shall we tell them now?" Marcus whispered in her ear.
"Oh, yes, I want everyone to share in our happiness," she whispered back, glowing.
Marcus pressed her hand, gazing deep into the luminescent hazel eyes that promised him so much. He looked round the room at his friends, who were now becoming aware of their re-entrance, opened his mouth to speak, then was fores tailed bya quavering cry.
"Ohhh..." On the chaise-longue, Lady Reed raised a trembling hand to her brow, moaned again, and slid gracefully from the low silk seat to the carpet where she lay motionless.
At once Marcus and Antonia were forgotten in the rush to the swooning woman's side. Lady Meredith was there first, kneeling on the ear pet her hand under Claudia Reed's head. Donna knelt beside her, chafing one small hand between her own capable ones.
"My dear," Lady Meredith commanded over her shoulder to her husband who was standing somewhat helplessly behind her, 'pray, ring for Mead. I fear we may need to call for the doctor, and we must certainly have her woman here. "
"I shall do it, ma'am," Sir John rejoined, striding to the fireplace and tugging hard at' the bell pull.
Miss Fitch had started up from the piano stool in alarm and now stood clutching her throat, almost as pale as Lady Reed. Antonia, seeing her distress, crossed swirlly to Mr. Leigh and whispered, "See to Miss Fitch, or we will have another patient on our hands. Why not take her out on to the terrace--the fresh air will revive her."
"Willingly, Miss Dane, but do you think it entirely proper that ! should do so in the absence of her chaperon?"
"Indeed, yes!" Antonia was losing patience with such a backward lover.
"I can see perfectly well from here if you just step outside the window." She gave him a gentle push, and with a grateful look he put one arm protectively around Sophia and ushered her out of the window:
Marcus had stepped across to speak to the butler, who turned and hurried from the room to summon his minion. Antonia cast a tolerant glance at the young people on the terrace before strolling across to the chaise-longue.
She felt no great concern for Lady Reed, convinced she was merely playacting, but, standing next to Lord Meredith and looking down at the prone figure, she began to have doubts for the first time.
Claudia was as pale as marble, the
blue veins visit on her eyelids, her lips pinched and chalky. She w lying in what must have been an exquisitely uncomfo able position without a sign of movement and appear unresponsive to Lady Meredith's ministrations. "Oh, s is very convincing," Antonia muttered to herself~ quite under her breath.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am? Did you speak?" She h ~orgotten Lord Meredith at her side.
"I said, " I fear she is sinking"," Antonia ex temporis hastily. "Where can her maid be?"
At that moment the woman hurried into the sale vinaigrette in hand, and bent over her mistress to administer the smelling salts. Despite the strength of the salts, the only effect was a low moan and a brief fluttering eyelids before they closed again. All Antonia's conc~ vanished as she caught the swirl assessing glance arou the tableau of helpers that Claudia made in that moment
She was looking to see where Marcus was, thedevk baggage! All this was a device to divert his attenti from Antonia. Well, we will see about that, Antonia thought grimly. "Oh, dear," she declared out loud voice of deep concern, "I fear such a long lasting swc must surely be injurious to her health. We'll revive her!"
Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane Page 13
