‘Well, you declined to come with us.’
He looked amused. ‘Only because I have a prior engagement.’
‘But you have been to the gardens before, and – and you see nothing wrong with our going?’
‘Not at all. Why should I?’
She bit her lip, then blurted out, ‘Rupert is afraid that … that the masks will be a cover for indiscretion!’
‘I am sure they will be, in some instances,’ replied Mr Lagallan, his eyes dancing. ‘Is Mr Alleyne afraid you might allow yourself to be ... indiscreet?’
She nodded, indignation once more colouring her cheeks.
‘He deplores my liveliness, and thinks it may lead me to behave with - with impropriety!’
‘Not that you would ever do such a thing.’
Her brow cleared and she laughed. ‘Of course I would not, under normal circumstances! I am surprised Mrs Pensford will allow her daughter to accompany me, if I am such a bad influence.’
He grinned at her. ‘Oh, I don’t think even you could lead Helen astray.’
‘But it will spoil the evening if Rupert is going to disapprove of everything.’
‘My dear child, has your godmama invited any ineligible persons to join you?’
She sighed. ‘No, that is just it. It is to be the most unexceptional party. Lady Bilderston has asked Colonel Brentwood to accompany us. Do you know him? He is extremely old, and very deaf, but he dotes upon Godmama, and she thinks an older male escort is essential. Then there are only Miss Pensford, Mr Alleyne and myself.’
‘My poor nymph, in such proper company what could Mr Alleyne possibly fear? Cheer up, brat. I think you may safely go to Vauxhall and enjoy the sights. If my dinner engagement is very boring, I may even look in myself, just to see how you go on!’
* * * *
Despite Mr Alleyne’s reservations, the journey to Vauxhall was unremarkable. There was a lengthy delay in crossing Westminster Bridge, which was the only route to the gardens.
It was early in the season for the gardens, and the lamps had already been lit and twinkled gaily in a colourful display along the paths. Colonel Brentwood had secured a supper-box for them near the orchestra, and from there they watched the crowds while nibbling sweet biscuits washed down by glasses of Arrack punch. Lady Bilderston might have looked askance at the meagre portions provided, but Eustacia was too entranced by the colourful costumes and lively music to criticize the refreshments. The crowds pushed past the box in a noisy stream of rainbow colours, the masks adding a frisson of excitement to the atmosphere. Miss Pensford sat very quietly opposite Eustacia and eyed with disfavour the jostling crowds. Lady Bilderston leaned forward to tap Mr Alleyne’s sleeve with her fan.
‘Perhaps, sir, you would like to take the girls to the north side of the gardens in readiness for the unveiling of the Cascade? It is nearly nine o’clock, and the Cascade is only displayed for fifteen minutes. Lady Trentham tells me that this year the illuminated landscape is very lifelike.’
‘Oh, yes – yes, of course.’
Lady Bilderston turned to her elderly escort.
‘You won’t mind if we stay here and listen to the orchestra, Colonel?’ Lady Bilderston shouted into his ear trumpet. ‘These young people love the thrill of such spectacles, but you and I, sir, much prefer to avoid the throng, do we not?’
Colonel Brentwood nodded and beamed at her, and signalled to the waiter for more wine as Lady Bilderston watched Mr Alleyne walk away, a young lady on each arm.
* * * *
Miss Marchant found the noise and bustle exhilarating, and looked about her in wide-eyed wonder. Miss Pensford, by contrast, clung to her escort, tense with apprehension. Mr Alleyne patted her hand and smiled down at her reassuringly.
‘There is no need to be alarmed, Miss Pensford. It is a little noisy, I know, but you are perfectly safe.’
She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘Oh, I am not afraid, sir, not while you are with me.’
Miss Marchant tugged at his sleeve. ‘Oh, Rupert — I have glimpsed the most fascinating little temple at the end of that walk — do say that we can go and explore, after we have seen the Cascade!’
As she spoke, a gentleman in a blue domino stopped, his head turned towards the little party. Miss Marchant, however, wrapped in a dove-grey domino and feeling secure behind her silk mask, noticed nothing, and continued to chatter away to her companions.
A bell rang out across the gardens, signalling that the Cascade was about to be uncovered, and the crowds began to push forward more quickly along the paths towards this spectacle. Caught in the throng, it was impossible for Mr Alleyne and his charges to walk together. Miss Pensford was still clinging to Rupert’s arm, but the crowds held no terror for Eustacia, who happily fell behind. A small disturbance in one of the side alleys caught her attention and by the time she looked around again her companions had been swallowed up in the crowd.
Miss Marchant was not unduly alarmed, knowing that everyone was moving in the direction of the Cascade. She would make her own way there, and if she did not come upon Rupert and Helen, it would not matter, for she was confident she could find her way back to her box. As she moved slowly along, she found a figure in a blue domino at her side.
‘You appear to have no escort, Miss Marchant. Pray allow me to assist you.’
She jumped.
‘Mr MacCauley! Thank you, but I assure you there is no need; my friends are only a little way ahead.’
‘My dear ma’am, I cannot allow you to walk unattended.’
Eustacia hesitated. The press of people in the narrow path made it impossible for her to walk away from the gentleman, and she had to admit that his behaviour as he walked beside her was unexceptional: he took care to point out to her the delightful little grottoes and statues illuminated at each side of the path, and his knowledge of the gardens was sufficient for him to answer all her questions. When they reached the famed Cascade, the curtains before this extravaganza were just being drawn back, and a loud gasp of delight swelled from the crowd. Eustacia had to peer over the shoulders of those in front of her, but she thought the view worth the effort.
The scene before her was cunningly illuminated to represent a country landscape; in the foreground was a miller’s house and glistening metal had been wrought to represent a waterfall that flowed down to turn the mill-wheel. At the foot of the scene, and visible only when Eustacia stood on tiptoe to see it, there was an illusion of foaming torrents of water pouring away out of sight. Eustacia joined in with the cries of delight, and when at last the curtains fell once more she turned away, her lips parted in a smile and her eyes twinkling through the slits of her mask.
‘That was splendid! I am so glad I did not miss it!’ she exclaimed.
Mr MacCauley chuckled beside her.
‘I am delighted you enjoyed it. Now pray allow me to return you to your box.’
‘Oh, but my friends are here, amongst the crowd. I am sure I can find them—’
‘No, no, let me assure you that it would be quite impossible to find anyone in this crush,’ replied her companion, taking her arm. ‘Come, you will be quite safe with me.’ The crowd was pushing back along the path, and Eustacia was content to move with it, her head still full of the scene she had just witnessed. When Mr MacCauley suggested they should take a short cut back to the Quadrangle she did not demur, but soon discovered that the route was much less well lit than the main path, and very soon they had left the crowd behind. Miss Marchant stopped.
‘I think, sir, I would rather we returned to the main walk.’
The gentleman smiled, and she felt him place one hand on her back.
‘But this route will be much quicker, and there is a series of little temples and grottoes to be seen on the way.’
‘Thank you, but I—’ she turned, but Mr MacCauley was standing very close and she found herself mask to mask with him. Only his mouth and chin were visible, but Eustacia thought his smile particularly wolf-like and predatory.
‘My dear, may I tell you how enchanting you look in that mask?’
Miss Marchant fought off a momentary panic.
Th-thank you, sir, but I fear all this excitement has been too much for me, or perhaps it was the plate of ratafia creams. It was rather foolish of me to eat all of them.’
The smile wavered. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Sir, I fear I am about to be most unwell,’ she uttered in a strangled voice. She noticed that his smile had disappeared completely, and continued, ‘It may of course have been the salmon; I was never partial to dill sauce. And then there was the syllabub.’ Eustacia pressed one hand to her mouth and gave a hiccup. ‘I am very sorry, sir, but please leave me — I would not have you watch as I disgrace myself!’ She ran to one side of the path and leaned against a convenient tree trunk.
Mr MacCauley stared at her. ‘Miss Marchant—’
‘Please sir, just go!’ she exclaimed, the words ending in a gasp as she shuddered dramatically and clung to the tree.
Mr MacCauley hesitated. ‘If you are sure . . .’
‘Yes, yes, go!’
With a small bow, he turned and hurried away. Eustacia, watching him from the corner of her eyes, heaved a sigh of relief.
‘Bravo, my dear.’
She jumped, peering into the darkness of the bushes where a black shape detached itself from the shadows.
‘Vivyan! How long have you been there?’
‘Long enough to appreciate your performance, brat. You should be on the stage! I presume you are not really feeling ill?’
‘Oh, no,’ came the cheerful reply. ‘I could think of no other way of repulsing him.’
‘Very true, but you really should not be wandering through the gardens alone, you know.’
‘I do know it, but I became separated from Helen and Rupert, and then Nathan MacCauley appeared and — and I could not really get away from him without missing the Cascade.’
‘Yes, I saw that, but you could have refused his escort afterwards.’
She gave an indignant gasp. ‘You saw it? You watched him accompany me to the spectacle and did not come forward? You must know I would much rather have had your escort than that man!’
He bowed. ‘Thank you, ma’am. I am flattered.’
‘Well, almost anyone would have been more acceptable!’ She laughed. ‘You must have realized I did not want his escort, why did you not make yourself known?’
‘I did not want to be recognized. But you may be sure that I was keeping an eye on you.’
She made a mocking curtsy. ‘La, I am grateful, sir!’
He grinned, and took her arm. ‘Enough, brat. Come, I shall escort you back to your godmother.’
‘And I suppose Rupert will consider that I am in a scrape again.’ She sighed.
But when they arrived at Lady Bilderston’s box, they found Mr Alleyne blaming himself for not providing a proper escort. Mr Lagallan interrupted him, saying with a faint smile, ‘I have always found it impossible to give my attention to two ladies at one time.’
Mr Alleyne flushed, but before he could speak Miss Pensford broke in, saying, ‘I have never liked crowds, and the press of people, all shouting and pushing, was far too daunting. I do not know what I would have done without Mr Alleyne’s arm to support me.’
Lady Bilderston beamed at Vivyan.
‘Well, thank you for returning my god-daughter to me, sir. Now you are here, Mr Lagallan, perhaps you would care to join us for supper?’
With a graceful bow, Vivyan accepted her invitation.
‘How delightful that you could join us after all, sir,’ remarked Miss Pensford, inviting him to sit beside her.
‘I only wish I could have joined you earlier and given you my escort,’ he replied, smiling blandly at Eustacia, who had just choked on her wine.
‘There are certainly some very ill-bred people amongst the crowds,’ returned Miss Pensford, ‘but I was never anxious for myself, I assure you.’ She smiled warmly at Mr Alleyne, whose fair cheek reddened slightly.
‘I am sorry I lost you in the crowd, Stacey,’ he murmured, as Miss Pensford engaged Mr Lagallan in conversation. ‘One moment you were beside me, then Helen — I mean Miss Pensford — was so alarmed by the jostling—’
‘It does not matter, Rupert, I am very well able to take care of myself.’
The flush on his cheek darkened.
‘You are angry with me. I have apologized, Eustacia; I don’t see what else I could do. Surely you did not expect me to abandon Miss Pensford?’
‘No, of course you could not do that,’ Eustacia replied, wearily. ‘Let us say no more of it. No harm has been done, and I did enjoy the Cascade. Let us also enjoy the supper that Godmama has so kindly provided for us.’
She turned her attention to the refreshments laid out before them. Lady Bilderston might look dubiously at the wafer-thin slices of ham and chicken, and wonder if there was sufficient to satisfy the appetites of six persons but Eustacia, having enjoyed a hearty dinner a few hours earlier, happily partook of the custards and cheesecakes, thanking her godmother profusely for such a splendid treat.
‘Are you sure you should be eating so much, in view of your recent malaise?’ murmured Vivyan, handing her a glass of punch.
Eustacia chuckled. ‘I only hope Mr MacCauley does not observe me!’
‘Oh? I thought you detested the man.’
‘Well, and so I do, but I do not wish him to know that I duped him!’
Vivyan laughed at her, and shook his head, before his hostess claimed his attention.
* * * *
Lady Bilderston had ordered her coach for midnight, well aware that the behaviour within the gardens could deteriorate alarmingly as the night wore on. Mr Lagallan’s presence made it possible for each of the ladies to have their own escort out of the gardens, and at the gate the party broke up, with Vivyan inviting Mr Alleyne to accompany him to his club to finish off the night with a few games of chance. Rupert hesitated, but Lady Bilderston nodded benignly at him.
‘Yes, do go, Mr Alleyne. You may be certain that with my footman up on the box, and Colonel Brentwood to attend us, we will be perfectly safe.’
Thus reassured, the young man climbed into Mr Lagallan’s carriage for the journey back to town. Mr Alleyne was a little in awe of Vivyan, envying the older man his poise and knowledge of town life. However, nothing could have exceeded Mr Lagallan’s friendliness that evening. He soon put Mr Alleyne at his ease, introduced him to his circle of friends at Brooks’s, and looked after him so well that when they eventually left the club just as the first grey streaks of dawn were visible in the sky, that young gentlemen felt obliged to express his gratitude.
‘I have not enjoyed an evening in Town so much, sir!’ he said, pumping Mr Lagallan’s hand vigorously.
‘Yes, yes, thank you,’ said Vivyan, pushing the young man into his coach. ‘Allow me to drive you home.’
Mr Alleyne fell back against the squabs with an ecstatic sigh.
‘Most wonderful evening,’ he declared, his cheeks flushed from the quantities of wine he had imbibed.
Mr Lagallan watched him, a slight smile on his lips.
‘Enjoyed Vauxhall, did you?’
‘Oh, indeed! Vastly entertainin’!’
‘But one has to be vigilant,’ remarked Vivyan. ‘It is not the place for a lady to go unattended.’
‘You are thinking of Stacey, I mean, Miss Marchant.’ Rupert looked uncomfortable. ‘I should not have allowed her to fall behind, but what could I do? Miss Pensford needed my arm and the path was too narrow for us all.’
‘Of course.’
Mr Alleyne flushed. ‘I know she is — that you are — what I mean is, Stacey told me that you and Miss Pensford are as good as engaged,’ he confided, ‘so you must know how much she dislikes crowds, and she is such a sweet, shy creature—’
‘And Miss Marchant is much better able to look after herself?’
‘Yes, that is it!’ declared Rupert, gratified
at his host’s understanding. ‘Stacey is a — a most redoubtable girl!’
‘Well, I am happy that you think so, since I understand that you and she are to be married.’
There was a long silence, broken only by the clatter of the carriage as it rattled over the cobbles.
‘Yes,’ said Rupert at last. ‘I suppose you heard that from your sister-in-law. I know she and Stacey are very close, must be, since Mrs Lagallan brought Stacey to London.’ He peered across at his companion, who appeared as a shadowy figure in the darkened carriage. ‘I suppose you know the full story?’
‘I believe you met Miss Marchant in Somerset, where she lost her heart to you. Would you think me very forward if I said that you don’t seem very happy with your engagement?’
Mr Alleyne bit his lip but the camaraderie of the evening and the wine he had drunk overcame his natural reserve and he blurted out: ‘No, damn it, I’m not! Oh, Stacey is a fine girl, and I admit that in Somerset I did perhaps pay her a little too much attention, but how was I to know she would follow me to London?’
‘How indeed? Your father, I understand, does not approve of the marriage?’
‘Well, I don’t know about that. I only said that to Stacey so she would not think I was deserting her for no reason. I didn’t want to hurt her, you see.’
In the darkness, Mr Lagallan’s hands clenched into two purposeful fists, but he forced himself to stay calm.
‘So would it not be better to make a clean breast of it now, and tell her the truth?’
‘How can I?’ cried Mr Alleyne, shrugging. ‘She has come all this way to find me! It would break her heart if I were to draw back. Besides, it is not such a bad match; there is nothing my father could object to.’
‘But you don’t love her.’
‘Love? No, I. . .’
The carriage had come to a halt, and Mr Alleyne realized they had arrived at his lodgings. He thanked Mr Lagallan again for his hospitality, and climbed unsteadily out on to the flagway. As the coach pulled away, Mr Lagallan stared out of the window at the deserted streets, then with sudden violence he slammed his fist into the leather squabs.
Chapter Ten
Melinda Hammond Page 9
