The Lords & Ladies Box Set

by Fenella J Miller

  Her heart flipped as her host headed directly for her. He clicked his heels, nodded his head and held out his hand. Emma stared at it foolishly.

  'Your dance card, Miss Meadows, I believe I have to write my name upon it.'

  Obediently she removed it and handed it over watching him sign his name in a bold black scrawl in three spaces; opening set, the supper dance and the final waltz. He handed it back with a smile that turned her

  knees to water.

  'I believe this is my dance, Miss Meadows shall we lead the company out on to the floor?'

  The rest of the evening rushed by in a carousel of music and laughter. Both she and Eugenie danced every dance with a motley collection of partners, both young and old. The German waltz had only recently arrived in England and this would be the first time she had danced it in public. This was to be the final dance and she could hardly wait to be held in Lord Denver's arms and twirled around the floor in front of the assembled crowd.

  She had told Jane to stay close to her sister at all times, believing that, as the oldest, she was sensible enough to avoid being trapped into anything indelicate. Eugenie, however, was headstrong and incautious and might well cause a scandal if not watched carefully. They had agreed to meet immediately after the waltz as their carriage, Lord Denver had informed her, would be the first to arrive.

  His lordship arrived at her side. 'This is my dance, Miss Meadows. It's the one I have been eagerly anticipating all evening.' Lord Denver took her hand and guided her to the very centre of the ballroom. As the orchestra struck up the first bars, he gently placed his arm around her waist whilst she rested hers on his shoulder. She felt uncomfortable so close to him, could feel the heat of his hand through the thin silk of her dress. For the first few steps she was unsure and almost stumbled.

  'Relax, my dear, allow me to guide you; you are an excellent dancer and the waltz is one of the easiest to master.'

  She did as he bid and he was right, within a few moments her feet appeared to find their own way as he guided her expertly around the floor, in and out all the other couples.

  'How is it, my lord, that a soldier can dance so well?'

  His smile flashed as he answered. 'Wellington demanded all his officers could dance, we often had to entertain at grand balls and affairs of state.'

  'Are you sorry you missed the final battle of Waterloo? It must be difficult knowing so many of your regiment was lost there.' She saw his eyes darken and immediately regretted her intemperate words. 'I beg your pardon, my lord, I should not have mentioned such a thing at a time like this.'

  For a moment he didn't answer, he was gazing over her shoulder, his expression stern.

  'No, Miss Meadows you should not. Pray excuse me, I fear I must abandon you. I have to be elsewhere.' His abrupt words fell over her like an icy shower, her shock was aggravated by humiliation as he unceremoniously abandoned her at the far end of the ballroom and vanished through the open French doors at the rear of the overheated room.

  Every eye was upon her, many gloating at her downfall and her burgeoning love turned instantly to loathing. How dare he allow her to be publicly disgraced for such a minor infringement of etiquette?

  Keeping a false smile on her lips she hurried out of the main doors, which led into the hall. Where could she go to hide her ignominy? The retiring rooms – in there she would be private and recover her composure before being obliged to face the censorious eyes of the other guests again.

  When she finally emerged, outwardly calm, the strains of the waltz continued in the ballroom. Where should she wait inconspicuously? There were soft footsteps behind her and she turned.

  'Miss Meadows, excuse me, would you care to follow me to a small withdrawing-room. Your carriage is unavailable at the moment and it would be best if you waited in comfort until it is ready.' The lady, obviously the housekeeper, curtsied politely and waited for her to follow.

  Her head was spinning, she feared she had imbibed too much champagne earlier and having two more glasses of wine with her meal had been a foolish decision. Sitting quietly on her own was exactly what she would like to do. The room was warm, the day bed comfortable and if she closed her eyes only for a moment it could do no harm. However, the alcohol and fatigue overcame her and she was soon so deeply asleep she did not stir when the door opened an hour later.

  Chapter Six

  Richard held Miss Meadows as close as he dared. For her sake he had insisted the waltz was included, how else was he to have a legitimate opportunity to embrace her? When she smiled at him it made him feel like a green boy again, hardly able to form a coherent sentence. In order to compose himself he averted his eyes, staring firmly over her shoulder. What he saw made him forget everything, including his partner.

  To his horror he watched Percy dance Miss Eugenie closer and closer to the open French doors and then whisk her through them. If he hadn't been watching at that precise moment he was sure he wouldn't have noticed, would have thought they were still amidst the many couples whirling around the floor. Emma had said something, but he hadn't heard her. He glanced down, his face still preoccupied, trying to decide how best to handle the situation.

  'I beg your pardon, my lord, I should not have mentioned such a thing at a time like this.'

  He frowned. He thought they might have been conversing about Waterloo. 'No, Miss Meadows, you should not.' He came to a decision, better to embarrass his partner than have her sister ruined. 'Pray excuse me, I fear I must abandon you, I have to be elsewhere.'

  He saw the shock reflected on her face and hated behaving like an ill-mannered brute. He had no choice, he would explain to her later and he was sure she would understand that her sister's safety was paramount. He waltzed her towards the rear exit and stopped. He released her, bowed and turned away, his thoughts on what might be taking place outside the windows, not on what was happening in the ballroom.

  Where was the wretched maid? He didn't have time to find her, hoped she would realise her charge had slipped away without her knowledge, and come searching.

  The terrace was empty, but the moon was high, filling the grounds with sufficient light for him to see at once that neither of them were anywhere in sight. He heard the sound of female footsteps behind him and prayed it wasn't Miss Meadows following him. What was going to happen would not be pretty and he had no wish for her to see it. He glanced over his shoulder relieved to see it was the maid servant.

  'I'm glad you've come. Have you any idea where Miss Eugenie and Mr Tennant have gone?'

  'No, my lord, I'm that sorry, one minute they were there, the next gone. It took me a while to realise as there are so many people dancing at the moment.'

  'Never mind that now. At any time this evening did Miss Eugenie say she had plans to go somewhere with Mr Tennent?'

  'No, my lord. She has barely spoken to me this evening, but I did overhear Mr Tennent saying he had something important to discuss with her and they would need privacy to do it in.'

  Richard swore under his breath. 'I knew it. He's up to his old tricks again. This time he shall not succeed, it's time he learnt to take responsibility for his actions.' He was talking to himself, but the young woman muttered a response as she hurried behind him, holding up the skirt of her modest blue evening dress to keep it from the dust.

  He ran along the terrace and down the steps towards the back of building. He had a good idea where Percy was taking his captive, the last time he had seduced a young woman it had taken place in the sweet smelling hay above the stable block at their old family home in Kent. Fortunately the girl was from the village and had been amenable to a substantial monetary gift and no unfortunate consequences had arisen nine months after the sordid event.

  He hurtled round the corner just as two figures stepped into a pool of moonlight; it was Percy carrying the girl in his arms. He could see at once that she wasn't protesting at this treatment, she was a willing captive. No doubt Percy had suggested that by carrying her he would protect her gown. He di
dn't dare shout, to do so would alert the many grooms and coach drivers that would be somewhere close by harnessing their horses, making ready for the end of the evening.

  His wretched brother was so engrossed in his seduction that he didn't hear him approaching from the rear and with one move Richard swung him round.

  'Put Miss Eugenie down, do it now.' His voice cut the night like a knife and Percy dropped Eugenie as if she was on fire. He heard Jane arrive behind him and without looking round he issued his orders. 'Take Miss Eugenie in through the side door, and then straight out of the front. The carriage will be waiting, get her into it and take her home. Quickly, you must go before anyone else becomes aware of what almost happened.'

  Eugenie unwisely refused to move. 'How dare you tell me what to do? You are not my guardian. Percy, tell him – we are to be betrothed, isn't that why you asked me to come here with you?'

  Richard saw his brother flush painfully, but instead of answering he started to back away. 'Oh no you don't, stay where you are, I haven't finished with you.' The young man froze, not daring to move when he was spoken to in such a fearsome way. 'Have you no more sense than a cabbage, Miss Eugenie? My brother has no intention of marrying you, he had far worse on his mind. This is not the first time he has done this, but believe me, it will be the last. Go with your maid now, there's a good girl, and all might yet be well for you.'

  Belatedly he remembered the plight of Miss Meadows. He called out to the maid. 'Jane, make sure a member of my staff conducts Miss Meadows somewhere quiet to wait for the carriage to return.'

  'Yes, my lord, I shall do that right away. Come along, Miss Eugenie, we must get you home before everyone comes out of the ballroom.'

  The girl gulped, but she didn't break down, she obviously knew that now was not the time for hysterics.

  If her reputation was to be saved she needed to get herself away from Kesgrave Abbey before the last waltz finished.

  Without another word the two women hurried away, he heard the door open and shut behind them. He swung back to face his terrified brother. He didn't bother to say anything else, he stepped forward and his right arm swung round catching Percy with a massive uppercut and he fell, as if pole axed, without a sound.

  Richard blew on his smarting fist and was tempted to follow up his single punch with a few well aimed kicks, Percy deserved it, he deserved to be thrashed within an inch of his life for what he had been about to do. Eugenie was no village lass, she was gently born and if he had his way was about to become a member of his family. In the distance he heard what very well could be the last strains of the music die away; there was the sound of loud applause and shouts for more. The musicians duly obliged and the waltz tune began again. Thank God! This would give him a much needed extra few minutes. He had to be in the hall to bid his guests farewell, but he had one more thing to do first.

  Racing round to the rear of the abbey he spotted his man, Enderby, sitting at a table reading a newspaper in the servants' hall. He rapped sharply on the window and raised his finger; instantly his man was on his feet, dragging on his top coat as he ran out.

  'Good man. Percy's unconscious round the back, near the hay barn, lock him in somewhere, I'll explain later.'

  'There's a store room in the barn, shall I use that?'

  'Yes, he can spend the night in discomfort. He's lucky to be breathing after what he attempted. Being in his cups is no excuse.'

  The music was drawing to a close – he had a minute to get himself to the hall or all would be lost. Enderby vanished to do his task and he sped back to the side door and went in, pausing to scrub his slippers dry on the end of a convenient curtain, then checking that his cravat was more or less correct, and his clothes uncreased, he strolled nonchalantly into the entrance hall just as the first of his guests appeared from the ballroom.

  By the time he had bid them all farewell more than an hour had passed and the carriage that had removed Eugenie was back and waiting outside for Miss Meadows. Leaving his minions to douse the candles and remove the worst of the debris, he marched to the small withdrawing-room in which his beloved had been placed.

  He tapped on the door quietly, but receiving no answer opened it and stepped in. He stood for a moment staring, his heart full of love. Emma, for that was how he thought of her even though he was not yet in the position to use her given name, had fallen asleep on the chaise-longue, her head cradled in her hand, her beautiful emerald green dress spilling out around her.

  He shook his head in disbelief. How had it come to this? He was a veteran of the Peninsular Wars, had no time for such flummery, but love did strange things to a fellow, and he finally understood what friends had meant when they said they would give their lives for the woman they loved.

  It would be best not to wake her if he could avoid it. Explanations would be forthcoming in the morning, better to avoid them now. He spoke quietly to her and shook her shoulder gently, but she didn't stir. He smiled tenderly – her deep slumber was probably an after effect of too much unaccustomed wine rather than mere fatigue.

  Bending low, he placed her folded arm around his neck, slipped one hand under her knees and the other around her waist. He lifted her easily; she murmured something, he couldn't catch quite what this was, and then settled trustingly against him. He loved the feeling of her face against his shoulder and tightened his

  hold.

  Richard carried his burden swiftly from the house, ignoring the bewildered expressions of the remaining footman who was up a ladder dousing the massive chandelier. He scrambled inside the waiting carriage; he should have placed her on the squabs, but chose instead to keep her in his arms. They arrived at the vicarage far too soon.

  Jane was waiting anxiously at the door for him to enter. The house was dark; she held a single candle stick in her hand to light his way up to Emma's bedchamber.

  'Place her on the bed, my lord, if you please, then go quickly. It's better that no one knows you've been here.'

  'Tell Miss Meadows I shall call on her in the morning to explain everything to her.'

  The young woman handed him a candlestick and he crept back down the stairs like a thief. He closed the front door silently, ran down the path and jumped into the carriage making it rock violently. He had found the woman he wished to marry, but feared tonight's events might have permanently alienated her and her family. How could she marry him, the brother of a man who had tried to ruin her sister? He collapsed into a corner glad the darkness allowed him to face his misery unseen.

  *

  Emma woke, disorientated, not sure for a moment where she was. Surely she had closed her eyes stretched out on a daybed at Kesgrave Abbey? How could she now be at home, in her own bedchamber, in her nightgown with her hair loose about her shoulders?

  She scrambled out of bed and, pushing arms into her warm bed-robe, decided that she would go and see how Papa fared. What about Eugenie? What had happened to her? She lit a candle from a glowing ember in the fire place and, holding it high stole out into the corridor and carefully opened the door of her sister's chamber. She could hear the sound of gentle breathing within – thank God Eugenie was safely in bed. For some reason her sister had decided to leave the party early and had taken the carriage which was why she had been obliged to wait in the withdrawing room. No doubt she would hear all about it when her sister appeared to break her fast.

  Reassured the youngest member of her family was safe and well, she walked to the far end of the passage and softly opened the door of her father's room. She saw at once he was awake for a candle burned by the bedside. 'Papa? May I come in?'

  'Of course, my dear girl, I was thinking about you both and was about to check that you were home safely.'

  ‘How are you? Has your fever gone?'

  'Yes, my love, I am fully recovered. Now, come and sit with me and tell me why you're wandering around in the middle of the night looking so unhappy.'

  Emma needed no second urging, she pulled up a stool, but before sitting she threw
several logs on the fire and gave them a vigorous stir with the poker. She was satisfied the room would soon be warm. She sat and regaled him with the events of the previous night. Her father listened patiently until she had finished her sorry tale. 'He's a monster to treat me so callously. I shall never speak to him again. It's unforgivable; I shall be the talk of the neighbourhood for months to come.'

  'I am sure there is an explanation, my dear. Remember we have both come to know Lord Denver well over these past few weeks, he's a good man, his heart is sound, a trifle brusque and overbearing at times, but that is his manner, he means no harm. He was an officer in the army after all.'

  Emma rubbed her eyes, staring in disbelief at her parent. How could he take his side? Didn't he understand the extent of her humiliation and the embarrassment she had suffered so publicly the night before? 'Lord Denver might be all things you say, Papa, but as far as I'm concerned I have no wish to speak to him again, and I believe that his brother has offended Eugenie as well.'

  'What do you mean?' Her father's voice was sharp, as if he suspected something untoward might have occurred between Mr Tennent and his younger daughter.

  'I mean that Eugenie returned early with Jane, and I was obliged to wait for the carriage to come back for me; which is why I was so much later coming home. She would only have done that if she was distressed by something.'

  'I should have nipped it in the bud. I saw the way things were going; we have both been so engrossed in our own affairs, my dear, that we have let matters come to this sorry state. Your sister imagines herself to be in love with that young man; however, I am uncertain of his feelings towards her. I cannot believe it credible he tried to take advantage of her in any way. You know your sister, she takes offence easily. Thank God she had the sense to return home and not make a public scene.'