“H-he is a Duke?” asked Henrietta in a low voice.
“That’s right, my dear. The Duke of Merebury.”
Henrietta felt faint.
No wonder she had been mysteriously drawn to the Duke when she thought she did not know him.
No wonder she had formed an image of him that had turned out to be uncannily similar to the real man.
Henrietta swallowed.
“Papa I don’t want to be introduced to the Duke.”
Lord Radford looked at his daughter in amazement.
“Why on earth not?”
Henrietta cast around desperately for an answer.
“I have heard that he has become a terrible roué.”
“ A roué?”
“Y-yes, Papa. He keeps mistresses in his house in M-Manchester Square.”
“Henrietta, who has been spreading this rumour?” “A-a fellow passenger on board The Boston Queen.
Lady B-Butterclere.”
“The Duke’s stepsister? You have mistaken her, my dear. She must have been referring to the Duke’s late grandfather. Now he was notorious. But there has never been any such scandal or tittle-tattle attached to the name of the present Duke.”
“B-but Lady Butterclere was most precise, Papa.”
“Then she was stirring up mischief. I must admit, I never did like her on the few occasions I met her ”
She might have learned a good lot more about Lady Butterclere at that moment had she not been distracted by the sound of her name called out with evident delight.
Kitty came rushing towards her from the middle of the crowd in the ballroom.
“Harrie, Harrie, is it really you?” trilled Kitty.
“Harrie?” repeated Lord Radford in surprise.
Henrietta, feeling flustered now introduced Kitty as another fellow passenger from The Boston Queen.
“She calls me Harrie as a nickname, Papa. Because on board she knew me as Harrietta.”
“Ah!” exhaled Lord Radford.
Kitty gave Lord Radford a flirtatious curtsy. “I’m very pleased to meet you, sir! And I apologise
for calling your daughter by such a silly name. But do you mind if I whisk her away from you? We’ve much news to catch up on.”
“Be my guest,” Lord Radford twinkled. Henrietta wanted to reiterate to him the plea that he
not effect an introduction to the Duke, but Kitty took such a firm grip of her elbow and steered her so forcibly away that Lord Radford was quickly left behind.
Kitty propelled her to a sofa and they sat down.
“You’ll never guess,” she began without ceremony, “who hired us last week to play at a party?”
She leaned in conspiratorially.
“Lady Butterclere.”
“Was that at at Merebury?”
“No. It was in Manchester Square.”
Henrietta opened her fan and stared for a moment at its coloured folds.
“Was the D-Duke there?” she asked.
“No. But I’ll tell you who was. Prince Vasily.”
Henrietta almost dropped the fan.
“V-Vasily? He is still in England?”
“Never left its shores, Harrie. Sorry Henrietta. I don’t know if he came to London looking for you, but he’s set himself up here. Has the nerve of the devil, too.
“And he was Lady Butterclere’s guest?” “He seemed more than a guest, Harrie. He hung
about Lady Butterclere and Miss Foss all evening.”
Kitty lowered her voice still further.
“Apparently the Duke has refused to have him at Merebury. But whenever Lady Butterclere is in London and that seems to be every other week she invites Vasily to Manchester Square.”
“H-how do you know all this?”
“That pug-faced maid told me. She’s convinced the Prince is out to seduce Lady Butterclere since the Duke has settled a large sum upon her and gave her the Manchester Square house. But I think the Prince ”
“He gave her the house?”
Henrietta repeated the words in bewilderment.
If the Duke really did use the house in London for assignations, why would he hand it over to his stepsister?
Unless and the thought made her head swim with horror unless Lady Butterclere really had been lying to her all along!
In which case she had seriously maligned the Duke.
“Harrie? Are you listening to me?”
Henrietta turned an abstracted gaze upon Kitty.
“I-I’m sorry. W-what were you saying?”
“I was saying that Prince Vasily has other designs.”
“Oh. I w-wonder how he has managed to e-evade the authorities? After all, he is a wanted man in England.”
“Oh, it is rumoured that Lady Butterclere has used her influence to keep him at liberty.”
Before Kitty could tell her any more the next guests were loudly announced.
“His Grace the Duke of Merebury, accompanied by Lady Butterclere and Miss Romany Foss.”
Henrietta froze.
This was the moment she had been dreading!
The Duke appeared in the doorway.
He was easily the most dashing and distinguished gentleman in the ballroom, though he was paler than usual and his hooded expression strangely grave for the occasion.
Lady Butterclere and Romany Foss stood on either side of him.
Henrietta rubbed her eyes in disbelief Miss Foss seemed transformed.
Her eyes were shining, her usually ashen features were flushed, her hair was beautifully arranged. She was dressed most elegantly in a gown of midnight blue.
Kitty followed Henrietta’s gaze.
“Would you not say, Harrie,” she giggled, “that there stands a woman who is head over heels in love?”
She could not tear her agonised gaze from Romany no woman in love could look that resplendent unless her love was returned!
Yet the Duke did not look at his fiancée. His eyes roved the room as if seeking a familiar face, lingering on the orchestra dais and then moving on to the throng below.
In another second, thought Henrietta frantically, he will see me!
She leaped to her feet.
“Wait on, Harrie, you haven’t heard everything ” Kitty protested vehemently.
“Later, later,” cried Henrietta.
She darted away, swift as a swallow, towards the other side of the ballroom, and into one of the alcoves that were set deep in the wall behind dark red velvet curtains.
She collapsed onto the sofa within and sat fanning her hot cheeks, her heart fluttering violently.
Next it almost nearly stopped beating altogether as she heard the Duke’s voice greeting her father just beyond her hiding place.
“A great pleasure to see you again, Lord Radford.”
“And it’s delightful to see you again, Duke, after all this time,” he replied. “You are hardier than I, I must say. I doubt I should have travelled such a great distance for the sake of a ball.”
“Well, it is thrown by my cousin, and I was hoping to encounter a familiar face here. But it seems I am to be disappointed.”
“Perhaps I can allay some of your disappointment by introducing you to my daughter! I am sure she will be happy to dance with her mysterious stranger again!”
The Duke gave a good-humoured laugh.
“She enchanted me once, Lord Radford, and I have no doubt she will enchant me again!”
“If she might be found ” muttered Lord Radford as they moved out of earshot.
Since it was the Duke who had suggested to Lady Bridgely that she might hire the orchestra, it was obviously Harrietta Reed who he hoped to encounter here tonight.
Imagine if he had mentioned that name aloud. Her father would have known who the Duke meant at once.
“I will have to remain secreted here all night,” she groaned aloud in despair.
“That, dear lady, will greatly please me,” came a voice from the recesses of the alcove.
Henrie
tta turned with a loud gasp.
Beyond the faint glow of the gas lamp she could just make out the figure of a man sitting in a wing chair.
“P-Prince Vasily,” she stammered, blood draining from her cheeks.
“Poor Henrietta,” the Prince mocked her. “Caught between, how do you say it? The devil and the deep blue sea!”
That phrase had never rung so horribly true as she realised that she was now condemned either to endure the company of the man she hated most in the world, or to be unmasked before the man who, night or day, was never out of her tormented thoughts.
“Twice you have now scorned me, Miss Radford,” grated the Prince. “Now it feels good to know I have the power to expose you before Society.”
“That w-would destroy my father.”
The Prince shrugged.
“So what is it you will offer me to remain silent?”
Before Henrietta could make a reply though reply she had none she heard Kitty’s voice calling her.
“Harrie?”
Kitty was clearly looking into each alcove by turn and was nearing this very one.
Prince Vasily exclaimed in annoyance.
“Put out that lamp,” he hissed.
“W-what?”
“The lamp, damn you, the lamp.”
Henrietta rose and extinguished the lamp. Now she alone was visible in the light from the ballroom while the Prince was in utter darkness.
“If she comes in here, send her away,” he ordered. “You and I have unfinished business still.”
Trembling, Henrietta sat down again.
She had no doubt that if she disobeyed the Prince he would just drag her forth from the alcove and ridicule her before the throng.
‘This young lady has masqueraded as a showgirl and piano player, both on board a ship and at the home of a distinguished aristocrat. She lost the trust of her host the Duke when he discovered her roaming the corridors of his home late at night.
Subsequently, she fled his hospitality in company with another man. Myself.’
She could never subject her father to such a scene.
Kitty parted the curtain and peered in.
“Harrie! There you are! Why are you in the dark?”
“I h-have a headache.”
“Is there anything I can get for you?”
“N-no. I just would like to be alone.”
Undeterred, Kitty entered the alcove and plumped herself down on the sofa beside her.
“Phew, but it’s getting hot out there. And I haven’t even been dancing. In fact in fact, I’ve been chatting to the Duke.”
Henrietta felt herself tense up, all too aware of the Prince listening in the darkness.
“Y-you have?”
“Yes. And most melancholy he seemed, asking me where Miss Reed might be. But that’s just another story I still haven’t finished telling you everything about Lady Butterclere ”
Her voice trailed away as she stared at Henrietta in the gloom.
“Harrie, are you okay?”
“Yes. Please, tell me what it is you have to tell me and then go. I’m sorry, but I’m really not feeling well.”
“Honey, my news will distract you from all your woes!”
Kitty took a deep breath.
“Remember Eddie saying he was sure he had seen that skinny Lizzie, Miss Foss, before? Well, at the party at Manchester Square, our regular pianist, Louie, sets eyes on Miss Foss and places her immediately.
“Years ago, the orchestra performed at a house in Portland, Oregon. The daughter of the house, Clara, was home on holiday from her finishing school and brought a friend with her and that friend was Romany Foss.”
Despite herself, Henrietta was now listening with interest.
“Clara was a bit talkative, especially when she and Louie were having something of a romantic tête à tête in the garden! She revealed that Miss Romany Foss was the illegitimate daughter of an English lady an aristocrat who resided most of the year in New York!”
“L-Lady B-Butterclere?” gasped Henrietta.
She could feel Prince Vasily tense in the darkness.
“That’s right,” nodded Kitty. “Seems that after her husband Lord Butterclere died, she went out West to find herself a wealthy husband. She didn’t find a husband, but she did fall for a smooth talker, but who then disappeared when Lady Butterclere discovered that she was expecting his child.
“She had the child in Portland, fostered it out, then paid over the years for expensive schooling. She rarely visited and kept the whole matter secret.
“Because, of course, she had made big plans for her daughter. Come hell or high water, Lady Butterclere was going to marry her off to her stepbrother back in England!”
Henrietta’s hand flew to her mouth.
“The the Duke!”
“Correct. All her life poor Romany Foss was being primed to marry her own step-uncle. Anyway, Romany is in awe of her mother, and will do most anything she’s told. Except she didn’t keep her real identity secret.”
“W-who did she tell?”
“It was someone who had insinuated himself into her trust. Someone who saw an opportunity for himself in the secret. Someone who recognised that Lady Butterclere would ensure that her daughter was never in want, whether she married the Duke or another.
“Someone who then seduced Miss Foss and made her fall violently in love with him.”
“W-who?”
“Can’t you guess? Your old friend Prince Vasily,” Kitty laughed. “Well, I had better get back to the dance. Hope you have forgotten your headache by now, my dear.”
With these words, Kitty swept out of the alcove.
There was silence for a moment. Prince Vasily was breathing hard in the darkness.
Henrietta felt that she herself might leave too, but as she gathered up her skirts, she felt a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Did I say, Miss Radford, you may go?”
Henrietta sank back down onto the sofa. “N-no. But why should you detain me? You have
no hold over me now. I know too much about you.”
Prince Vasily gave a mocking chuckle. “You think so? You know about Miss Foss, but as
regards me, there is only what this Miss Kitty says. And what is her proof? Observation only.”
“M-Miss Foss would bear her out!”
“Miss Foss? She is my creature and she will never betray me. She and I, we will elope and Lady Butterclere will pay us so much money from the Duke’s settlement to keep it secret that she ever had an illegitimate child!”
Henrietta swallowed hard, casting a desperate look toward the closed curtain.
“Then what can you want from me?” she asked. “What I will not enjoy so much when I have it from
Romany Foss,” whispered Prince Vasily.
His finger ran down Henrietta’s neck and then his hand moved to her bodice, flicking at the lace that covered her breast.
Henrietta pushed his hand away.
In one move he cleared the sofa and stood before her leering down.
“You will learn how a man like me can love!”
Henrietta attempted to rise, but he pushed her back, clamping a hand over her mouth so that she could utter no sound.
She struggled as with his other hand he began to lift the skirt of her dress.
Next the curtain was wrenched aside.
Prince Vasily was torn from where he was standing and thrust heavily to the floor.
An enraged Duke of Merebury stood outlined in the light that now flooded the alcove from the ballroom.
A sea of faces Miss Foss, Lady Butterclere, Kitty, Lady Bridgely hovered behind him.
The orchestra meanwhile had stopped playing.
“I knew I’d heard someone,” said Kitty grimly.
The Duke spoke through gritted teeth.
“Get up, you scoundrel, and take the beating you damn well deserve.”
“No! No!”
A weeping Romany Foss rushed forward an
d flung herself on Prince Vasily as he attempted to rise.
He sank back onto a seated position with Romany clutching his knees.
Lady Butterclere paled.
The Duke took Henrietta’s hand in his and drew her gently to her feet.
“You are unscathed?” he enquired.
“Y-yes,” she blushed beneath his concerned gaze.
“What is going on?” asked Lord Radford, pushing his way through.
In one glance he understood the scene and turned in dismay to his daughter.
“My God! Are you all right, Henrietta?”
The Duke’s gaze flickered.
“Henri etta?”
“Not Miss Reed?” spluttered Lady Butterclere.
Lord Radford started.
“Miss Reed? Oh, that was only the name I invented for her to travel under on The Boston Queen. To try and protect her from fortune-hunters.”
He threw a contemptuous look at Prince Vasily.
“Her real name is of course Henrietta Radford, who most of you will know as my own dear daughter.”
“Your daughter, Lord Radford?” echoed the Duke in surprise.
“Yes. Henrietta, with whom you danced long ago at Lushwood Manor,” he smiled.
The Duke stared down at the floor, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
‘Now he knows all,’ thought Henrietta in despair.
Lady Butterclere’s features distorted with rage.
All her plans to marry off her daughter to the Duke were now dashed. Romany had made it all too clear her allegiance to the shamed Prince Vasily.
Well, if Romany was not going to have the Duke, neither was that conniving Miss Reed or Miss Radford or whatever she was!
“I had no idea at all that Miss Reed was of such an established family,” she began. “Her escapades on board ship were such as to ”
It was the Duke who cut in, lifting his head quickly.
“Madam, I suggest you would be better employed removing your friend from the scene to compose herself.”
At these words Romany gave a loud wail.
“I won’t leave Vasily! Whatever he’s done, Mama, I won’t leave him.”
Everyone looked around in considerable confusion, wondering who ‘Mama’ might be.
Few noticed Lady Butterclere stagger for a moment as if about to fall.
The Keys of Love Page 14
