Presently Henry Lydney arrived to keep his appointment with Helen. He stayed just long enough to do what was civil towards the other ladies, before bearing Helen off to the waiting curricle.
“Ah, at last I have you to myself!” he said, as he took up the reins to give his horses the office to start.
“Yes, together with all the dozens of other people who’ll be in the Park this morning,” she answered, with a laugh.
“Don’t remind me of that! I heartily wish them all at Jericho.”
“Where exactly is Jericho, sir? I must confess that geography was never my strong point.”
“Nor mine, assure you! But in any case, Jericho is only an euphemism — in reality, I wish them much farther away than that.”
“Unkind!” She made a reproving face. “Besides, you must know I like being greeted by sundry acquaintances, and admiring the splendid horses that go by, not to mention quizzing the absurd bonnets worn by some of the females!”
“You yourself have the most delightful taste in bonnets, ma’am,” he replied, studying the yellow straw trimmed with green ribbons which she was wearing.
“No, you can’t flatter me on that account!” she protested, laughing. “I possess as many absurd hats as the next female! I wore something simple today, you see, so as not to put you to the blush.”
“You’re very good to study my sensibilities to the extent of suspending your own pleasure, Miss Somerby, but I assure you such excessive caution is needless,” he replied, with a solemn face. “My sister has long since inured me to the worst extravagances of female attire. I have seen it all!”
“Why, how unhandsome of you, and so like a brother! I’m sure Cynthia always looks charmingly.”
He did not answer for a moment, as he was occupied in turning the curricle through the gates into the Park.
“Perhaps another man may think so,” he said, when this was accomplished, “but you can’t expect that I should notice. Especially not,” with an openly admiring look from his dark eyes, “when I have you beside me.”
She thought that she knew to a nicety just how to keep his flirting on the light side, but now and then she would find herself momentarily discomposed. This was one of those occasions. Her eyes fell before his, and to her annoyance she felt a blush starting.
“Good morning, Lydney. ’Servant, Miss Somerby.”
They turned their heads to see Shaldon beside the curricle, mounted on a sleek chestnut. His tone was cold and the look he directed at them severe. It had the unfortunate effect of deepening the red in Helen’s cheek.
Lydney reined in his horses.
“Morning, Shaldon. That’s a prime bit of blood,” he said, running his eye over the chestnut’s points. “Don’t fancy I’ve seen it before. A recent acquisition?”
“Took a fancy to it at Tattersall’s,” replied Shaldon, briefly. “And pray how did you enjoy yesterday’s ball, Miss Somerby?” he continued, directing an unsmiling look at Helen.
“Oh, vastly! I did so like the waltz!” she exclaimed, rapturously.
“So I observed.” His tone was dry. “Lydney’s a very accomplished performer, of course — one of the many evidences of a misspent youth.”
Lydney grinned. “While you have chiefly employed your time in reading improving works?” he demanded, mockingly. “Come off it, Shaldon! If you think to impress Miss Somerby with such stuff, you’re faint and far off. Isn’t he, ma’am?”
“Pray don’t bring me into it, if you two are determined to quiz each other,” she laughed. “But in case you may feel that I’m becoming too rackety, let me inform you that I’m to spend an improving evening myself for once, at Mrs. Somerton’s musical soirée. Do either of you chance to be going?”
“A musical soirée? Lud, no—” began Lydney, then stopped. “Now I recollect,” he continued, avoiding Shaldon’s eye, “I rather fancy I did have a card.”
“And if you didn’t, I shouldn’t put it past your powers of persuasion to obtain one,” said Shaldon, with a mocking smile. “Well, I mustn’t make you keep your horses standing any longer. Doubtless we’ll be meeting again before long, Miss Somerby.”
He bowed and rode on; Helen’s eyes followed him for a moment. She reflected that, although he always looked well, he appeared to even better advantage than usual on horseback.
They met one or two other acquaintances during the remainder of their drive through the Park, and the time passed so pleasantly that when Lydney finally set Helen down at the house in Cavendish Square, she was conscious of a regretful feeling. All the same, she would not promise to drive out with him at any other time during the next few days, in spite of his earnest requests. Although she very much enjoyed his company and was not averse, as she had admitted to Melissa, to indulging him in a discreetly mild flirtation, she had no wish to flout the proprieties to the extent of causing everyone to couple their names together. She knew that he was only flirting, however serious he might sometimes appear. Cynthia had told her so; and moreover Mama had prepared her adequately for guarding her heart against such frivolous assaults. But she could not help thinking that in a way it was a pity; he was such an agreeable young man, and she was sure he would make a charming husband. She did not wish for a husband, she reminded herself — at least, not yet. Someday, perhaps, when all the dizzy excitements of a London season were behind her and she was home once more among the green meadows and woodlands of her beloved countryside, she might settle down with some amiable young man. Someone like Papa, she thought, with a sudden lump in her throat; kind and loving, yet with a strong sense of humour, too, so that he and she could have fun together in the way that Mama and Papa had always done. And they would have laughing, happy children scrambling all over the place, and puppies and kittens and a pony for the children to ride. It would be a real home, an abode of affection such as her own parents had created about them. She could not quite visualise Mr. Lydney in such a role. Now that she came to consider the matter as she walked slowly upstairs to her room, she could think of no other gentleman of those admirers whom she had left behind her in Alvington who seemed better suited to it, either. She suddenly recalled what Melissa had said earlier, that one could not choose the moment for falling in love nor even the person concerned. She smiled; dear, romantic Melissa, who at present fancied herself in love with James. Melissa was only too ready to meet love halfway, but she, Helen, was more wary. There was time enough for such matters, and she certainly did not intend that they should interfere with her wholehearted enjoyment of the novel, exhilarating experience of a London season.
She was not surprised to meet Mr. Lydney later at Mrs. Somerton’s soirée. With his usual adroitness, he managed to secure a seat with her party, which consisted of Lady Chetwode, Melissa and Philip. The first item on the evening’s programme was provided by a plump lady in a purple gown and a turban ornamented with three large feathers. Before she sang, she inflated her generous bosom to such an alarming extent that Helen had to suppress a ridiculous thought that it might burst like a balloon. She dared not look at Melissa for fear the same notion had entered her friend’s head, in which case she knew that they would be bound to disgrace themselves by a giggle, at the very least. As the song progressed, the feathers kept nodding in response to the singer’s impassioned rendering, and this again almost led to Helen’s undoing. Altogether, she felt relieved when that item came to an end and the audience broke into applause.
“Oh, dear!” whispered Melissa to her, under cover of the noise. “I had to keep my handkerchief pressed to my mouth, for fear I should laugh!”
They were safe enough from this hazard during the next item, which was a brilliantly executed pianoforte solo. After it was concluded, there was an interval for refreshments, during which most people left their seats. Helen had seen Catherine and her parents seated not far away, and before Henry Lydney could rise to follow, she had jumped up and was moving towards them. A crowd of other loiterers soon intervened between her and her objective, however; a
nd while she was threading her way through, someone touched her lightly on the arm. She turned to see Shaldon beside her.
“You here?” she asked, in some surprise. “I had a notion you didn’t care for music above half.”
“I don’t,” he replied, “although not for anything would I have missed the Purple Peril.”
Helen laughed. “Oh, no! Melissa and I were hard put to it to keep a straight face!”
“We can’t talk here,” he said taking her arm and steering her purposefully through the crowd to a less congested spot. “And since I came especially to talk to you, perhaps you will not object to giving me a moment of your company.”
“You came to talk to me?” she repeated, puzzled. “What in the world about?” Then, with a sudden change of tone, “Oh, have you seen the Earl and discovered what is afoot? You promised to acquaint me with it, when you had any news.”
“Oh, that. No, I’ve not given that matter a second thought, for I’m convinced it’s a mare’s nest,” he said, dismissively.
“I disagree! And I think you are very foolish not to try and get to the bottom of it. Though, of course,” she added, belatedly, “it is none of my business, and I don’t mean to be uncivil, telling you you’re foolish. I beg your pardon.”
“You needn’t, for I am about to say the same thing to you in another connection,” he said, fixing his grey eyes upon her in a serious look which reminded her of the one he had been wearing that morning in Hyde Park.
She had some inkling then of what he meant to say, and she coloured faintly, between embarrassment and annoyance.
“If it’s what I suppose—”
“I expect it is, and I’m quite sure you won’t wish to hear it.” His tone was stern. “If your brother were at hand, this would come more properly from him; but since he’s not, as an old friend of your family, I must speak in his stead. What the devil do you mean by encouraging Lydney to hang about you? Do you want to set the Town talking?”
Her eyes flashed. “Encourage him? How dare you say that!”
He gave her back look for look. “How else would you describe that touching little scene I chanced upon in the Park this morning?”
“You misunderstood!” she said defiantly. “It was all nonsense—”
“There were a good many others passing at that time, and you may be sure they all misunderstood, too,” he interrupted, grimly. “Do you positively wish to acquire a reputation for flirting? If so, permit me to tell you that you’re going the quickest way about it.”
“Oh, this is intolerable!” Just in time, she prevented herself from stamping her foot. “What right have you to bring me to book? As I’ve said before, you are not my brother! If there’s anything amiss with my conduct, I have Lady Chetwode at hand to tell me of it.”
“That’s all very well, but doubtless she, too, misunderstands the situation.”
This puzzled her; for a moment she forgot her anger.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Simply that Lady Chetwode most likely considers Lydney’s intentions to be serious, and would be reluctant to throw any rub in the way, In such cases, a little encouragement on the lady’s side does not come amiss.”
“And pray how do you know that she is mistaken in that?” she challenged him, once more firing up.
For the first time, a look of anxiety came into his face.
“Is that what you suppose, N — Miss Somerby? Have I perhaps really misunderstood your part in the affair?”
“No — that is to say, it’s none of your business!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “I wish you will stop trying to watch over me. I am very well able to look out for myself!”
“I sincerely trust that events may prove that,” he replied, soberly. “I can only beg your pardon for my intrusion into your personal affairs. Like most of what is termed interference, it was well meant — but the road to Hades is paved with good intentions, so they say.”
He bowed and left her, only a moment before Henry Lydney appeared at her side.
“Where’s Shaldon off to in such a hurry?” he asked. “Gone to get you a glass of lemonade?”
She attempted to make a quick recover. “No, but I would like one of all things! It has become so very close in here.”
“Yes, you do appear a trifle flushed,” he answered, studying her. “Shall we go into the refreshment room, or would you prefer me to fetch something out for you?”
She allowed him to guide her into the anteroom, where they were presently joined by the rest of her party, together with Catherine Horwood and her parents. She took little part in the conversation, however; and whenever she was addressed directly, she answered more or less at random. Melissa noticed that she was out of spirits, and determined to discover the cause later, when they should be alone. For the moment, she loyally did her best to talk volubly enough for both of them.
As they all strolled back to resume their seats, Helen, now somewhat recovered, looked about her covertly for Shaldon, but could not see him anywhere. This was scarcely surprising, as he had left immediately after their conversation.
Repeating it to Melissa later in the seclusion of her bedchamber, her indignation revived.
“I think him odiously interfering! What right has he to tell me how I should go on, I’d like to know? I wish I had given him a sharper setdown, now I come to think of it. Why, we’ve been strangers for years, until he came to Alvington in March and visited my parents!”
“I’m sure he meant well,” said Melissa, in a conciliatory tone. “No doubt he was persuaded that your brother would have spoken to you in that way, had Mr. Somerby himself been by.”
“I doubt very much that James would be so — stuffy! And, anyway, who is he to discharge the office of a brother on my behalf? I tell you, Mel, I will not endure it! And so I told him!”
“Then you need have no fear that he’ll err again,” pointed out Melissa soothingly. “And, after all, Nell, you yourself have behaved in exactly the same way towards Viscount Shaldon, come to think of it.”
“Behaved in the same way? Oh, you mean when I tried to warn him against Durrant? But that was different — I was not criticising his conduct!”
“No, but you were warning him against what you believed to be a hazard. It appears to me,” went on Melissa, with a light laugh, “that you’re both concerned with trying to protect each other! You must share more family feeling than you suspect!”
Helen gazed indignantly at her friend for a moment; but it was not in her nature to persist in feelings of rancour, and she had to acknowledge the truth of Melissa’s statement. She began to laugh, too, and at once felt better.
CHAPTER XXVIII
“Really,” remarked Lady Lydney to her husband wearily, as she sat before her quilted dressing table at the end of another exhausting day, “children are a mixed blessing! Chaperoning Cynthia through the Season — if Cynthia can ever be said to allow one to chaperone her — is just the kind of fatiguing, tedious business that I thought it would be, Lydney. It will be a relief when the girl is married and set up in her own establishment. I have had more than enough of this, I promise you! Have you any notion when Shaldon is likely to make his offer?”
Lord Lydney shook his head. He was in no mood to listen to his wife’s complaints, and intended to beat a retreat to the peace of his own bedchamber as soon as he could do so without annoying her. It was a pity that he had ever entered the room in the first place; but she had said earlier on at their dinner party that she wished to speak to him as soon as they could be private together, and this had been the first opportunity.
“For my own part, I cannot think why he hasn’t done so already!” she exclaimed, petulantly. “You told me months ago that Alvington was to broach the matter?”
“We must give Cynthia and Shaldon sufficient time to become a little better acquainted, Sophia. Recollect that until we brought Cynthia to Town, they had not met since childhood.”
“What’s that to say to anything?
Many good matches are made between couples who know far less of each other. Do you suppose Shaldon to be hedging off?”
“Good God, no. Why should he? Cynthia’s not only a good catch, she’s a devilish attractive girl — beats all the others into fits, I’d say. Moreover, from what I’ve observed myself when I’ve seen them together, he seems quite alive to her charms.” He paused. “The fact is, Sophia, I’ve reasons of my own for not pushing the business on at present. In a way, I’m relieved that he hasn’t yet come to the point.”
“Reasons… what reasons?” Her voice sharpened.
Again he hesitated. “I am not prepared to communicate them to you at this present time,” he said at last, in what she thought of as his Parliamentary voice.
“Oh, well, I suppose you know what you’re about, but I only hope you don’t let Shaldon slip through your fingers! There are plenty of others in the running for her, but none with an Earldom in view.”
“I’m quite aware of that, and you may trust me to play my cards carefully, I believe,” he answered in a quelling tone.
“Oh, well! I suppose we must allow matters to take their own course,” she said, resignedly. “But I must confess that I’ll be relieved to get the girl off my hands. She’s so monstrous self-willed that I am no match for her! She would insist on dancing the waltz at our ball, and I could see that people considered it bad ton to do so at a come-out ball.”
“H’m.” Lord Lydney cleared his throat judicially. “Well, Prinny has danced it at Carlton House, and even at Almack’s it’s not frowned upon, if done with permission. Times change, you know, and one must advance with them.”
“And then she has some most undesirable friends,” continued his wife, abandoning the former theme in favour of another. “I’m sure I don’t like above half the females she’s been dining with this evening, nor any of that set.”
“Then you must put your foot down, my dear, and refuse to let her associate with them.”
“Refuse to let Cynthia do anything on which she is determined?” asked Lady Lydney, incredulously. “I wish I may see that! It is impossible to deny her anything, since you have indulged her beyond permission!”
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