by Sandra Heath
‘How could I forget?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m sure you would if you felt you could. Just behave like my prospective bride, and blush prettily when mention is made of an imminent betrothal, for that is the way to see that Drummond still looks kindly upon you.’
‘I despise you,’ she breathed. ‘How you’ve managed to fool not only my sister and brother-in-law but a great deal of society as well, I really don’t know.’
‘It’s my irresistible charm,’ he replied smoothly, offering her his arm. ‘Shall we proceed?’
Reluctantly, she rested her hand on the cool chainmail of his sleeve, but as they ascended toward the brightly lit doorway, she was determined to strike free of him at the first possible opportunity. She had to be completely at liberty when midnight struck.
The crush in the hall was tremendous, a squash to end all squashes, and the babble of voices was amplified so much inside the house that the music from the ballroom was inaudible. Chandeliers of particular brilliance shimmered in the warm air above the distinguished gathering of lavishly costumed guests, and the smoke from the gentlemen’s cigars vied with the perfume from the countless flowers brought in for the occasion. From the painted walls, stern-faced figures gazed down a little disapprovingly from between the columns of a classical temple, as if taking exception to such frivolity, which well they might considering the dire situation across the Channel in Europe.
There was an Ionic colonnade at the far end of the hall guarding the entrance to the magnificently gilded ballroom, and to the right swept up a black marble staircase with a golden handrail. Against the wall at the foot of this staircase, passed constantly by a stream of guests, stood the large long-case clock by which she was to meet Adam in two hours’ time.
Margaret was standing just inside the entrance, talking with a Boadicea, an exceedingly tall Louis XIV, and an armored knight who was already looking very hot and uncomfortable, for his visor was raised and he constantly mopped his perspiring face with a large handkerchief. Helen soon realized that the Louis XIV and Boadicea were the Earl and Countess of Cardusay, who’d been married so romantically on the lake at Hagman’s the year before, for Margaret was exclaiming that she was astonished it was really one whole year since that glorious and memorable day.
‘A year? Is it that long already? I can scarce credit it.’
‘Well, we felt we should mark the occasion in suitable style,’ replied Boadicea, ‘and when Henry suggested a water party, well, what could I say but yes? It’s a marvelous notion, don’t you think? We’ve invited everyone who came last year, but then were horrified to find that a whole bundle of invitations had been mislaid, so half our friends know nothing of it. You and Gregory will come, won’t you? It’s to be straight after racing ends tomorrow. We expect everyone to rush from the racecourse straight to Hagman’s, where a veritable feast will await.’
‘If Gregory’s back from London, then we’ll be delighted to come, Ann.’
Helen was only half listening, for she was too busy glancing around for Adam. There was one sultan dressed in voluminous cloth-of-gold, but although he was facing directly toward her, he paid scant attention. It couldn’t be Adam, for he’d show some reaction at seeing a goddess of the rainbow standing with a shepherdess who was so obviously Mrs Gregory Bourne.
Her attention was drawn back to her immediate circle, for Louis XIV turned as she and Ralph joined the small group. ‘St John, is that you?’
‘It is. Good evening, Henry.’
The other nodded, raising his mask for a moment to look more closely at Helen. ‘Enchanté, my dear, you must be the delectable Helen.’
‘Sir.’
‘Fie, madam, your fame preceded you, for even with that wretched domino I’d know you for a beauty. St John’s a fortunate fellow, eh?’
She smiled, but didn’t respond.
Boadicea chided her husband. ‘Henry, you mustn’t embarrass her, she’s fresh from schooL’ She put an understanding hand on Helen’s arm. ‘Take no notice of him, he’s being familiar because he has his mask to hide behind, he’s a model of civility really. Now then, you do know you’re included among the guests for our water party, don’t you? We didn’t realize you’d be at Bourne End when we originally compiled our list, but if we had, you’d have been on it as a matter of course. By the way, you might care to know that Lady Cowper spoke very highly of you yesterday.’
‘She did?’ Helen recalled a brief conversation with the prettiest of the lady patronesses of Almack’s before the Prince Regent had arrived for dinner.
‘Oh, yes, my dear. She said Prinny was very taken with you.’
The subject was suddenly changed, for Louis XIV gave a dismayed groan. ‘Don’t look now, everyone, but Huff-and-Puff ’s on his way over. He may be got up like a stag lost in a forest, but I’d know that paunch anywhere.’
Helen glanced in the direction he was looking, and saw an extremely portly Herne the Hunter bearing down on them. He was dressed in green, with a bow and quiver of arrows over his shoulder and the most enormous set of antlers protruding precariously from his hooded head.
She soon understood why he was called Huff-and-Puff, for he spoke as if he was quite out of breath. ‘What’s all this, huh? Where’s Gregory, huh? No, don’t tell me, huh, for I’ve heard. Damned shame, huh? Still, the old wheels keep turnin’, huh? Who’s the mysterious divine, huh? Your sister? ’Pon me soul, a fair goddess indeed, eh, huh?’ Before Helen knew it, he’d seized her hand and was drawing it to his lips. ‘This dance, m’dear, huh? Of course you will, no question, huh.’ Still holding her hand, he almost dragged her away from the others.
She could have protested, for his conduct was pushy to say the least, but she wanted to escape from Ralph and so allowed herself to be spirited away toward the ballroom.
Huff-and-Puff walked with quick, short steps, and each one jerked another grunt from him. ‘Huh, huh, huh.’
The ballroom was a lofty chamber, its walls glittering with mirrors and richly gilded panels of plasterwork. The ceiling was coffered in gold and white, and from it were suspended two rows of priceless chandeliers. A line of French windows stretched down one wall, standing open to the illuminated terrace overlooking the water gardens, and the other walls were tiered with crimson chairs and sofas from which those guests who weren’t dancing could survey those who were. A sea of people moved to the slow music of a landler, played by the orchestra high in an apse on the far wall.
The music was just coming to an end and as the dancers left the floor, the master of ceremonies announced a contre danse. This more lively measure was greeted with delight, and a surge of people hurried onto the floor. Huff-and-Puff propelled Helen into the melee. ‘Huh, huh, huh,’ he grunted, his fat little legs moving at the double as he hastened to take up his position. The orchestra struck a chord, and then launched into a jaunty country tune. The dancers swept happily to and fro, and round and round, and Helen could hear Huff-and-Puff all the time. ‘Huh, huh, huh.…’
As they danced, Helen glanced constantly around, wondering if at any moment she’d catch a glimpse of Adam. She’d recognize him immediately, she knew she would.
The contre danse ended, and a polonaise began. Huff-and-Puff relinquished her almost gladly to a Roman centurion, for the brisk country dance had quite exhausted him. The centurion was a strutter, putting Helen very much in mind of a chicken as he danced, for not only did he move around like one, he also jutted his head backward and forward like one too. The polonaise gave way to a cotillion, and the centurion to a Falstaff. Then there was another contre danse, a quieter one this time, and she was partnered by the Cyrano de Bergerac she’d noticed on arriving. She still hadn’t caught a glimpse of anyone who might be Adam, then while she was glancing around, a hand touched her shoulder.
She whirled around to see Ralph, who drew her angrily from the floor, ignoring her partner’s justified protests. ‘Madam, it’s evidently escaped your memory that I am your escort tonight.’
/> ‘Oh, no, sirrah, it hasn’t escaped me at all!’
‘Good, because I’m about to place a demand upon your acting talents. I’m taking you to meet my father, who believes we are to be betrothed. You’d better make a convincing show of it, my dear.’ With a taunting smile, he drew her hand over his sleeve and walked her around the edge of the crowded floor toward the tiers of sofas and chairs facing the French windows.
St John Senior was not what she’d been expecting, for where his son, was tall and well-made, he was small and rather frail. He had a fine head of silver hair, and behind his black satin mask his eyes were as bright as buttons. He was seated alone on a sofa, and made a very unlikely Bacchus. His wine-colored robes hung limply against his slight person, and the wreath of vine leaves around his forehead was a little skew-whiff, as Helen’s father had always said of something that wasn’t as straight as it might be. He rose as soon as he saw his son.
‘Ah, there you are, Ralph, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.’
‘I’m as ever the dutiful son,’ replied Ralph with a convincingly warm smile. ‘The delay was solely due to Miss Fairmead’s popularity in the dance, but I’ve secured her person at last, and present her to you now. Helen, my dearest, may I present my father, Mr Richard St John. Father, Miss Helen Fairmead, the lady who has so graciously consented to be my bride.’ As he said this last, he drew her hand to his lips, kissing the palm lingeringly.
It was all she could do not to shudder, but somehow she managed to smile, glancing toward his father. ‘Sir,’ she murmured.
St John Senior stepped quickly forward, taking her hand from Ralph and kissing it in turn. ‘My dear, how very glad I am to meet you at last. Ralph has told me so much about you. May I say how very charming you look tonight? I realize your face is hidden, but I do not need to see it to know you’re very beautiful indeed.’
‘You’re too kind, sir.’
The button-bright eyes were very sharp and shrewd behind his mask. ‘I shall return to Jamaica happy in the knowledge that Ralph has made a very wise choice, and yet I very nearly didn’t make the voyage here.’
Ralph looked at him. ‘You didn’t have to come at all, you know. I’m quite capable of handling your business affairs.’
‘I know, my boy, but one likes to keep one’s finger on the pulse of things, and it’s been a positive age since I was in England. I’ve found it all, er, most illuminating.’ Again the bright eyes rested on Helen. ‘My dear, will you honor an old man with a dance?’
‘Why, certainly, sir,’ she replied.
He nodded at his son. ‘I do believe you can amuse yourself with taking some supper in that room over there,’ he said, taking Helen’s hand again and drawing it determinedly through his arm.
A minuet had been announced, and the dancers were taking up their positions. Helen and Mr St John joined them, but she was aware that his attention was not on the imminent dance, it was still on his son. Ralph remained by the sofa, but then glanced toward the supper room. After deliberating for a moment, he made his way toward it.
Mr St John immediately drew a rather startled Helen from the floor again. ‘Forgive me, my dear, the dance was but a ruse to get you away from my son, whom I suspect you dislike as much as I do at the moment.’
She stared at him, caught completely off guard.
He smiled a little, patting her hand. ‘Don’t look so alarmed, Miss Fairmead. It’s just that I’m not the fool my son likes to think me. We must speak privately, so I suggest we walk in the gardens for a while. Trust me, my dear, and at least agree to hear me out.’
For a moment she hesitated. Fear of Ralph’s reprisals made her reluctant to do anything that might antagonize him, but as she saw how earnest his father’s eyes were behind the mask, she nodded.
He glanced again toward the supper room door, but Ralph had gone inside and was nowhere to be seen. ‘Come, my dear, we’ll toddle outside without delay, for the coast appears to be clear.’ Taking her hand, he led her toward the French windows, and then out onto the brightly lit terrace.
CHAPTER 16
Chinese lanterns were suspended above the steps leading down from the rather crowded terrace to the water gardens. A long lily pond extended into the darkness, and on either side of it ran a rose pergola where the way was lit with more lanterns. A large fountain should have been playing halfway along the pond, but something had gone wrong with it, and some estate workers were busily endeavoring to put it right.
Not many people had chosen as yet to stroll outside, and Mr St John steered Helen along one of the pergolas to a quiet alcove directly by the water. ‘This will do, my dear, we can be private here.’
The ribbons on her gown fluttered as she sat down. The lily pond was like satin, with reflections shimmering in it, and from time to time a fish rose to the surface, causing ripples to undulate silently toward the alcove. The scent of June roses filled the night, and the distant melody of another landler drifted from the house. She could see the terrace, and the guests moving to and fro, their costumes bright in the lantern light.
Mr St John joined her and removed his mask. ‘Miss Fairmead, may I see your face? I much prefer to look into the eyes of the person I’m addressing.’
She removed the domino, and the jeweled mask flashed as she placed it on the seat beside her. For a long moment he studied her, then he smiled. ‘I was right, you are beautiful. You are also, I suspect, very honest and proper, and much put out by the situation my son is somehow managing to impose on you. You don’t wish to marry him, do you?’
She became a little flustered. ‘Sir, I.…’
He put his hand reassuringly over hers. ‘Whatever you say will be kept in the strictest confidence, my dear, and if you wonder how on earth I’ve guessed your secret, let me explain that from my place in the ballroom, I could see you quite clearly when my son dragged you from the dance. Your manner spoke volumes to me, Miss Fairmead, and confirmed what I already suspected anyway. I’m afraid I know Ralph rather better than he realizes, for he was spiteful and conniving as a child, and I’ve no reason to think he’s changed. But for all his sins, he’s still my son, and although I may not like him very much, I love him a great deal. It’s my duty to correct his faults before it’s too late, for I made a grave mistake in letting him come here from Jamaica, with a Mayfair allowance and no parental hand to curb his excesses. He regarded himself as free to do as he pleased, living a very wild life while all the time writing glibly proper and untruthful letters to me. He was too clever by far, and my suspicions were raised, the more so when he suddenly began to mention a possible betrothal and suggested a large sum of money would be necessary in order to purchase the matrimonial home. I decided it was time to put in an appearance here, and my sudden arrival rattled him, for it meant he had to produce the intended bride. Until then, I believe his conversations with your family concerning you had been merely idle exercises, but he quickly realized he was in a fix and needed the firm suggestion of a match with you. I think he was confident you’d accept the proposition – forgive me, my dear, but I gather you’re not a great heiress.’
‘That is correct, sir.’ She’d listened with great interest to every word, for his explanation clarified so much.
‘It didn’t take me long on my return to sniff the truth out about Ralph’s life here. The whispers were strong, concerning huge gambling debts, expensive affairs with actresses, and so on, matters of which he’s still confident I remain ignorant. The duns are upon him, and he needs desperately to convince me the betrothal is genuine so that I’ll come across with the necessary lifesaving cash, Am I right, Miss Fairmead?’
‘I – I think you probably are, sir.’
He seemed surprised. ‘Don’t you know?’
She hesitated. ‘Sir, I don’t wish to say anything that.…’
‘That might reach Ralph’s ears? Don’t worry on that score, my dear, for he will never learn a word.’
She drew a long breath. ‘I can’t tell you
why he wishes to pretend that we’re to be betrothed, Mr St John, because he’s never told me why. I do know that it’s only to be temporary.’
He nodded. ‘Until I’ve handed over the cash and toddled conveniently back across the Atlantic.’
‘Probably. I really don’t know his reasons, sir, for I am definitely not in his confidence.’
‘Why have you consented to his wishes?’
She lowered her eyes. ‘I’d rather not say.’
‘Because you will compromise yourself?’ He smiled, patting her hand again. ‘Please tell me, my dear, for it will help me greatly if I know exactly what my son is prepared to do in order to have his own way.’
Reluctantly she looked at him again. ‘He knows that I’ve been meeting a gentleman who is more than a little persona non grata with my sister and brother-in-law.’
‘Lord Drummond?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Yes. How…?’
‘I’ve made it my business to find out all I can about the circle in which my son moves, and naturally the Prince Agamemnon affair came to my attention. Lord Drummond is the only man I know of who could be described as more than a little persona non grata at Bourne End, and since I happen to have had him pointed out to me, I know that he is the sort of gentleman a young lady like you might be persuaded to meet.’ He smiled at her.
She colored a little. ‘I love him very much, Mr St John.’ For a moment she was tempted to tell him the complete truth about the previous year’s racing scandal, but then she drew back from it. He was disillusioned about Ralph, but still loved him, and to shatter what was left of his affection seemed somehow to smack of a spitefulness worthy of Ralph himself. Surely it was sufficient that he knew what Ralph was doing to her personally, without revealing the extent of his malice toward Adam as well, including the threat to expose Lady Bowes-Fenton’s affair.
Mr St John was looking sadly at her. ‘So, my son says he will tell of your liaison with Lord Drummond unless you agree to this temporary betrothal?’
