He flushed. ‘Yes, well — I’d better leave you now. It wouldn’t do for people to see us together.’
‘When will I see you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know – that is—’
‘You could call upon Godmama.’
‘No! I mean, I would much rather wait until I have been formally introduced to Lady Bilderston; no need to rush these things. Look, you will be at the Mayfields’ ball, won’t you? I shall ensure I make Lady Bilderston’s acquaintance then.’
‘But that is days away - can we not meet before?’
Patiently, Mr Alleyne explained again why it would be imprudent for them to meet too often, and he took his leave, praying that something would occur to prevent him attending the Mayfields’ ball.
Mr Alleyne was not the only gentleman reluctant to appear at this prestigious event. Mr Lagallan was dining at Bruton Street when his sister-in-law asked him if he meant to attend.
‘Lord, yes, I suppose I must. Helen made it plain that she expects me to be there.’
Major Lagallan’s lips twitched. He said with mock severity: ‘That is not very complimentary to your future bride.’
Vivyan grinned. ‘Shocking, ain’t it? I thought myself free from this sort of thing for a few more months yet. When I went to Combe Charlton to propose to Helen, I was told the family was still in mourning for some sort of cousin. That’s why there’s to be no announcement about the engagement yet. Then, without a word, the whole family is in Town!’
‘To keep a watchful eye on you, perhaps,’ murmured Caroline. ‘You are something of a prize, you know.’
Mr Lagallan raised his brows. ‘Do they think that I would cry off, when I have already agreed everything with Helen and her father?’
‘Put down those hackles, little brother,’ said the Major, grinning, ‘no one is doubting your intentions. It’s understandable that Miss Pensford should wish you to attend her.’
‘Aye,’ agreed Vivyan gloomily, ‘and unless I break a leg or some such thing, I suppose I shall have to do so!’
* * * *
Since no mishap occurred in the following days, Mr Lagallan dutifully presented himself in Earl Mayfield’s crowded ballroom in good time to lead Miss Pensford on to the floor for the first two dances. He was also able to secure one dance with Eustacia, and as they took their places in the set he complimented her upon her glowing looks. She did indeed look very well in a flowing gown of green lustring, with a single string of fine pearls gleaming at her neck. He regarded her closely, but could detect no hint of reserve or unhappiness beneath her sparkling good humour.
‘You have spoken to Mr Alleyne?’
Immediately her smile widened.
‘Yes. We talked a few days ago. Of course you will understand that he cannot constantly be in attendance upon me, for that would arouse the sort of gossip and speculation that is most abhorrent to us.’
‘I thought it was the world well lost with you,’ observed Vivyan.
Miss Marchant flushed slightly. ‘Well, it is, but Rupert does not wish any scandal to be attached to our liaison.’
The movement of the dance separated them, and they did not mention Mr Alleyne again until the dance had ended, and Vivyan was escorting Miss Marchant off the dance-floor. She cast a shy glance up at him.
‘Would you — that is — I should very much like to introduce Mr Alleyne to you, if you would allow it?’
‘Of course. Whatever made you think I should object?’
She gave her head a little shake. ‘I’m not sure. I think perhaps it is that you sound a little . . . disapproving when we talk of Rupert.’
Taken aback by her perspicacity, Mr Lagallan stifled any misgivings he felt about the young man and smiled down at his companion.
‘Not a bit, Stacey. I should be delighted to meet him.’
It was midway through the evening before Mr Alleyne made an appearance. Eustacia was in the ante-room, standing near one of the tall windows with Helen Pensford when she saw Mr Alleyne coming towards her. Immediately she broke off her conversation, her face lighting up as the young gentleman approached.
‘At last you are here, Rupert! I had almost given you up!’ She held out her hand to him and Mr Alleyne bowed over it.
‘My apologies, Miss Marchant.’ He stressed her name, as if to chastise her for her own outspoken address. ‘I am sorry I am so late, I—’
The words died on his lips as he raised his eyes and looked for the first time upon Eustacia’s companion. Miss Pensford had been standing with her back to him as he approached, but now he was aware of the full force of her beauty. He was immediately struck by the contrast between the two young ladies: Eustacia’s flaming red hair and sparkling vivacity threw into strong relief Miss Pensford’s cool ivory colouring. She was dressed in a gown of cream satin, which hung in soft folds about her willowy figure. Her corn-coloured hair was decorated with delicate white rosebuds, and her flawless skin was accentuated by the cornflower blue of her eyes, whose glance now rested upon Mr Alleyne with a look of cool friendliness. Mr Alleyne had not been an attentive scholar, but he was suddenly reminded of an ice-maiden from some half-forgotten classical myth. Watching this little tableau, Miss Marchant was unsurprised. She and Helen had attended many assemblies together in Somerset, and she was well aware of the effect of that cool beauty on young men. If she was disappointed that Rupert should succumb quite so readily to these charms, she stifled such ignoble feelings and performed the introduction, and after allowing them a few moments’ conversation, she plucked at Mr Alleyne’s sleeve.
‘Rupert, the orchestra is striking up again, and I have saved this next dance for you.’
Reluctantly, Mr Alleyne tore himself away from Miss Pensford and accompanied Eustacia to the ballroom.
‘Miss Pensford is a neighbour of yours in Somerset, Stacey? I do not recall seeing her when I was at Burnett Lodge.’
‘Her family had just suffered a bereavement, and were living very retired.’
‘Ah, I see. But she is out of mourning now, I suppose, and will be in London for the season?’
‘Perhaps, I do not know,’ Eustacia replied, briefly. She found his interest in her friend disturbing, and was relieved that the movement of the dance prevented further discussion.
The rest of the evening passed off as Eustacia had planned, but as the coach carried her back to Fanshawe Gardens in the early hours of the morning, she was aware of a faint cloud of disappointment settling over her. She could not say why this should be: Rupert had danced with her twice, and even had she wished to dance more with him it would have been impossible, since there had been a gratifying number of partners vying for her attention. She had been a little surprised to see Mr Alleyne standing up with Helen Pensford, for that beauty never lacked partners, and surely Rupert had arrived too late to secure a dance. Eustacia had been pleased when Mr Alleyne was introduced to Lady Bilderston, and even if she was a little disappointed that he did not make an appointment to call, that was not sufficient excuse for the lowness of spirits that had settled over her, and in the darkness of the carriage she went over the evening in her mind, trying to find a reason for her depression.
It seemed to begin from the moment she had presented Mr Alleyne to Vivyan. The two gentlemen had been perfectly civil; in fact Mr Lagallan had been at his most charming and had even invited Rupert to accompany him to his club. Eustacia had been a little surprised at this, since she guessed that there must be ten years separating the two men. But she smiled at Mr Lagallan, grateful for this gesture, and as he moved away he paused beside her.
‘Well, nymph,’ he murmured quietly, ‘you have your man now, you no longer need me. I will bid you goodbye.’
Sitting in the darkness of the coach, with Lady Bilderston snoring gently beside her, Eustacia frowned over the remark. Vivyan had left soon after, so there had been no chance to ask him what he meant by it, but she did not see that their friendship should change merely because she had found Rupert.
* *
* *
The following morning, Eustacia’s youthful spirits were fully restored by a few hours’ sleep. She had formed the habit of walking Snuffles every morning in the little park at one end of Fanshawe Gardens. Lady Bilderston allowed her to dispense with the services of an escort for these excursions, and Eustacia, accustomed to the freedom of long country walks, had come to value these morning outings as a period of solitude in her crowded days.
The previous night’s assembly had caused her to sleep a little later that morning, and it was almost noon when she set out with Snuffles for the park. Once inside the gates, she bent to unfasten the little dog’s lead, and as she straightened she heard someone call her name. Looking around, she saw a gentleman striding towards her, and her heart sank as she recognized Nathan MacCauley.
‘Miss Marchant! Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise!’ Mr MacCauley took off his hat and swept her a low bow, his fair hair falling forward over his brow as he rose. ‘I stepped out to take the air and - may I have the pleasure of accompanying you?’
Eustacia hesitated. She had no maid with her, but she was not alarmed, for the little park was not empty: several nursemaids from the surrounding houses had brought their charges to the park to take advantage of the fine autumn morning. With a slight inclination of her head, she allowed Mr MacCauley to fall into step beside her.
‘I am pleased to have this opportunity to renew our acquaintance, Miss Marchant. As you know, I am a friend of Mr Lagallan’s, a great friend.’ He glanced down at his companion, but when she remained silent he continued: ‘Yes, our friendship goes back a very long way. How long have you known Vivyan?’
‘Not long,’ she replied, cautiously. ‘Only since coming to London.’
‘Ah yes, Vivyan escorted you to Town, did he not?’
Eustacia forced herself not to look up at him.
‘No, I travelled here with Mrs Lagallan,’ she said firmly.
‘You are related to Mrs Lagallan, perhaps, some sort of cousin?’
‘No, she is a very good friend of- of my family.’
‘And where did you say your family live?’
‘I did not.’ Eustacia quickened her pace.
‘Oh, of course, of course.’
They walked on in silence, and Eustacia hoped that her snub would quell her companion’s desire to talk, but soon he began again. However, this time his conversation was so innocuous that she began to relax, and he even succeeded in making her laugh. Even so, she was relieved when she had completed her circuit and was again at the park gates. She secured Snuffles once more on his lead, and bade Mr MacCauley good day, but he insisted upon escorting her to her door. His manner was perfectly polite, yet once inside the house and alone, Eustacia could not settle, and when Mrs Lagallan called to take her out that afternoon, she could scarcely wait until they reached the park before relating the whole episode to her.
‘Caroline, I am sure he has guessed the truth!’ she ended, wringing her hands in dismay. ‘There was such a knowing look in his eye!’
‘My dear, what can he do if he has guessed? As Philip has said, no one would believe such a tale! Just hold firm to our story, my love, and we shall come about.’
Miss Marchant knew this to be very good advice, but she was still thankful that Nathan MacCauley was rarely to be seen at the parties she attended with her godmama.
* * * *
In fact, Mr MacCauley was finding life in town much harder than he had expected. He had used his modest fortune to set himself up in style, taking rooms off Piccadilly, ordering his clothes from the most fashionable tailors, and generally posing as a smart man about town. The only cloud on his horizon was his lack of useful acquaintances.
He found himself living on the fringes of society, without the necessary entrée to the homes of London’s top hostesses where, he was sure, his charm and wit could be truly appreciated. He bought himself a showy hack and rode in the park at the appointed hour, strolled down Bond Street with all the other beaux, but still only managed to get himself invited to one or two of the lesser drawing-rooms. As he fretted over his singular lack of success, he convinced himself that he could lay the blame for this failure squarely at Mr Lagallan’s door.
Vivyan Lagallan was the darling of society: his fortune could only be described as comfortable, but his striking good looks and polished manners made him a favourite with the hostesses who considered that his presence added lustre to their parties. Mr MacCauley thought it would have cost Vivyan very little to introduce his old friend to these same hostesses, and he had thought it a great stroke of good fortune to meet Vivyan in Reading; but Mr Lagallan’s blunt refusal to help him had been a shock, and it was not long before his disappointment was replaced by anger. Of course he was grateful to Vivyan for coming to his aid when he had been set upon by his pugilistic acquaintances, but nevertheless Nathan MacCauley considered that there was something havey-cavey about the young cousin whom Vivyan had in tow, and once he had seen Vivyan and Miss Marchant together, he was pretty sure he had rumbled him. However, he did not see how this information could be used to his advantage, since any attempt to discredit Vivyan would almost inevitably rebound. No, thought Mr MacCauley, he could not see his way clear yet, but Eustacia Marchant was a pretty little thing, and he had no objection to furthering his acquaintance with her, since Mr Lagallan’s door was so firmly closed against him.
Chapter Nine
Once Rupert Alleyne had been made known to Lady Bilderston, Miss Marchant was eager to further this acquaintance, and when she spotted an advertisement during one of her shopping trips with her godmother, she realized she had found a perfect opportunity. She waited until Lady Bilderston was settled once more in the carriage before saying casually: ‘Godmama, there is a masquerade evening at Vauxhall Gardens next week. I wonder - do you think we could get up a small party?’
Lady Bilderston smiled at her.
‘My dear child, with all the balls, routs and ridottos we have attended, have you not had enough of parties?’
‘But Godmama, I have heard so much about the gardens -the thousands of coloured lamps, the orchestra playing in the Quadrangle, the Cascade - I would so dearly love to go!’
‘But Stacey, it is not at all fashionable now, you know—’
‘Perhaps not, but I heard Lady Trentham telling you that she had gone there recently, and found it most diverting!’
Lady Bilderston could not deny it, and, faced with her goddaughter’s entreaties, she soon found herself agreeing to the scheme.
‘And who would you like me to invite to join us?’ she asked Miss Marchant.
‘Well, I thought perhaps Miss Pensford might join us.’
‘A very pretty-behaved young lady,’ approved my lady, who was beginning to warm to the idea. ‘And I think I shall invite Colonel Brentwood. Now, pray don’t frown so, Stacey. I know you may think him a little old, but he has been my good friend for many years, and besides, we shall require a gentleman to escort us.’
‘I - I was thinking that p-perhaps we could invite Mr Alleyne,’ muttered Eustacia, hoping that her godmother would not notice her flushed cheeks.
‘We can, of course: that will give us five people,’ said Lady Bilderston, counting them off on her fingers. ‘The supper-boxes will hold six comfortably, so perhaps we should ask another gentleman, just to make up the numbers. Do you think Mr Lagallan might come along? He is a friend of Miss Pensford’s, I believe.’
But when the invitations were issued, the messenger brought back Mr Lagallan’s reply immediately: unfortunately that gentleman was already engaged elsewhere.
‘Now, that is regrettable,’ declared Lady Bilderston, handing the note to Eustacia. ‘Can you think of any other young gentleman who might fill the gap?’
Miss Marchant confessed that she could not, and after a few moments’ contemplation her godmother gave a sigh, and shook her head.
‘No more can I. We shall have to go as we are. I am sure Mr Alleyne will be able to entertain two you
ng ladies without any trouble!’
Miss Marchant informed Rupert of this treat when they met at the subscription ball at Almack’s the following Wednesday, and was surprised at his lack of enthusiasm.
‘What is the matter, Rupert, do you not wish to see Vauxhall?’
‘As a matter of fact I have been there, several times,’ admitted the young man. ‘But Vauxhall is – can be – a little rowdy. It is not at all good ton, you know.’
‘But Rupert, everyone goes there! And what harm can there be in it? Godmama will make sure we come to no harm. Besides,’ she added, her eyes twinkling, ‘we shall be masked, so no one will recognize us.’
‘Aye, ‘tis the disguise that can sometimes make perfectly respectable people behave most improperly!’ he muttered darkly.
Eustacia laughed at him.
‘Oh, Rupert, do you think Helen and I will turn into hoydens just because our faces are covered?’
‘I have no doubt Miss Pensford would never allow herself to overstep propriety,’ he returned stiffly, ‘but you, Stacey, your liveliness can sometimes lead you to go too far.’
‘You did not object to it in Somerset!’ she flashed, an angry flush mounting her cheeks.
Mr Alleyne looked away.
‘No, and I have already told you how much I regret that episode.’
He left her soon after, and Eustacia realized with a sinking heart that she had never felt so out of charity with him, as she confessed to Mr Lagallan when they met in the park the following day.
Eustacia was riding a lively grey mare, a present from Lady Bilderston, and the horse’s fine hocks, beautiful action and excellent lineage had to be discussed before anything else, but a chance word from Mr Lagallan made Eustacia enquire anxiously if perhaps she should ask her godmama to cancel the visit to Vauxhall.
‘Good God, no! Why should you want to do that, nymph? The last time we met, you could talk of nothing else.’
‘Oh, I know! And I do really want to go, to see the Cascade, and the Dark Walk, and – and everything!’
‘But?’
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