Richard went on to point out some of the other people depicted on the wall. Zeus had been James II but this had been hastily altered into a more vague heroic figure after the king’s flight abroad. “It’s said,” Richard concluded, “that they’re all based on life, they all posed for the artist as you see them.” He paused, watching me while I stared at the paintings, trying to imagine them in the flesh. “Would you pose like that if I asked you to?”
I looked back at him, astonished until I saw his gentle smile. “If you wanted it.” Privately, I thought they would probably hire models to pose, as we did when we had our portraits taken. The painter did the hands and face, then we sent the clothes to him to be draped on models with the same figures as ours. His smile was an intimate one. “I’d prefer you to keep to modern convention.”
When the meal was over and the ladies retired, Lady Southwood prevailed upon me to play for the company, so when the gentlemen joined us shortly afterward, I was at the harpsichord, playing one of the fiendish pieces I used for showing off. Lizzie was turning pages for me and when I finished, I received most gratifying applause.
Richard escorted us to a sofa, thus preventing any encores and making me comfortable. Someone else began to play country airs softly, a pleasant interlude before we went to the ballroom and I was able to relax with a glass of wine. What came next would be an ordeal for me, and he knew it. But all I had to do was get it over with.
Chapter Twenty
THE BALLROOM HAD BEEN created from the great drawing room on the first floor of Southwood House. With most of the furniture removed and the great carpet rolled up to reveal the polished floor, it made an excellent space for dancing. Southwood House was unusual in that it was a large house, one of the few remaining from the great houses of the previous century, so it had the space for a large drawing room as big as any found in the country. The other rooms, small only in comparison to the drawing room were laid out as card rooms and rooms for more gentle pursuits. Servants stood by the stairs and the other exits to ensure the guests didn’t stray too far into the other regions of the house.
It contained what to me seemed like all the flowers from Covent Garden Market. The floor gleamed in the reflection of thousands of candles, set in the two great chandeliers and all around the room and the flickering fire sent its own erratic shadows into the space. The dinner guests went into the room, the orchestra tuned up and began to play gentle airs and the first guests arrived.
We were fortunate that most of the principal guests arrived early. I stood between Lady Southwood and my husband, curtseying and receiving felicitations from those who had heard of my pregnancy. With the support and strength of Richard next to me, I actually began to enjoy myself. When the Skerrits arrived, Lady Southwood released me into Tom’s care, although I protested that I could stay longer. Tom escorted me down the stairs and found me a seat, where I could hold court.
The people fast becoming our set arrived shortly afterward. The Flemings and Lord Thwaite joined Tom, Georgiana and me. Lady Caroline sat next to me and took my hand. “Congratulations, my dear. When is it due?”
“June.”
“So you won’t have to go through the hottest weather with all that bulk as I had to do with my little Georgie. I suppose you’re pampered by your adoring husband?”
My answer was careful. “I’m being well cared for.” I didn’t want to hold Richard up to any kind of ridicule.
Caroline smiled, her eyes understanding. “And your fatherin-law will be thrilled. Everyone knows he’s been champing at the bit for a grandson any time this past ten years.”
That made me smile. “To tell you the truth, I’m glad we’re in Brook Street. Too much attention would be so irksome.”
“Indeed it would. For the last three months of my first pregnancy, I was hardly allowed to walk upstairs. True, I was as big as a house but my mother and dear George fussed over me so much I thought of running away.” She laughed. “I was robustly healthy and just tired of waiting by the end.” She smiled at her husband, who was chatting to Tom. The two men had met for the first time the previous year and liked each other. Her husband paused in his conversation and smiled back. Although their marriage had been arranged, they had found companionship and love and their son had added to their contentment. Caroline was a bright, merry person, always ready to laugh and I liked her much. Her attitude to childbirth was practical and went a long way toward allaying my fears about what was to come. I would try to see more of her in the coming months.
“Your sister is attracting her fair share of beaux,” Caroline remarked to Tom.
He smiled in pleasure. “She deserves it. She’s enjoying herself hugely.” We watched pretty Georgiana, decorous and charming, with her small court.
“Will you come back?” Caroline asked.
Tom shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“You know Georgiana is always welcome to stay with us,” I reminded him.
He smiled politely. “Perhaps after the baby.”
“Oh pooh, I’ll be fit for months yet. Don’t you trust her with me?”
I was sorry to see the faint trouble in his face but he denied that. “She couldn’t be safer than with you. Lady Hareton has invited us, also.”
“Has she invited Miss Terry again?” Caroline wanted to know.
Tom’s gaze went to where Eustacia, one of the early arrivals, sat on a wide sofa, fluttering her fan and her eyelashes at a flurry of admirers and young women. “No.”
“I didn’t think she would.”
“I should think you’d be glad to see the back of her, Rose,” Tom said bluntly.
I smiled. My good friend Tom had seen Eustacia’s antipathy to me at home in Devonshire and here in London. “She’s done herself more damage than me.”
Caroline smiled in sympathy. “It can’t have been comfortable for you.”
“No but no real harm was done.”
Eustacia was enjoying herself hugely. I watched her from where I sat, turning from one to the other, using her fan to threaten them with banishment from her presence and I wondered if she knew what was happening. She was attracting as many married men as single ones. She looked well in light green satin and ribbons, made over from one of the gowns she had new last year.
The ballroom was filling up and the orchestra preparing for the first minuet, the one I was to dance alone with Richard. I hoped the guests were charging their glasses liberally. I might appear better to them if they were a trifle befuddled by alcohol.
Richard, released from his duties at the door, came across the room to me and I watched the gazes following him. He seemed, as always, supremely unaware of any onlookers. He took my hand, kissed the fingers and drew me to my feet, not taking his gaze from me, a slight smile expressing his pleasure. Caroline sighed.
He smiled his society smile. “Remember, keep your chin up and stare them down.”
He led me on to the floor to officially open the ball as the orchestra waited for the signal from Lady Southwood. I dared not look around. I knew people were watching but I kept my gaze on his until I regained my composure. His presence gave me strength, not just because he was my beloved husband but because he was in his milieu and he would help me to make it mine, too.
I brought the pattern of the steps to the front of my mind and we began. The minuet was a supremely elegant dance of flirtation and courtship in the right hands and Richard had certainly perfected the art. I tried hard to be worthy of him, remembering the tricks of hand extension and ankle rotation he’d taught me. I kept a smile on my face but he didn’t need to think as hard as me and his smile was encouraging, loving and amused. He glittered frostily under the lights, unreal, ethereal in grace, out of my orbit but always cognisant of me and my needs, taking his time and making me take mine.
When the minuet came to an end and I sank into my final curtsey, I realised with surprise that I felt calm. My concentration had overcome my nervousness and I smiled at Richard in more than relief as we ack
nowledged the applause that followed when he led me off the floor.
“You were enchanting.”
“You,” I replied, “were perfect.” That made him laugh and he took me to Gervase who, with Richard’s contrivance, had bespoken the next minuet.
Gervase approached with his own version of Kerre charm. He was dressed in deepest red and the contrast with Richard’s garb couldn’t have been greater but the brothers shared the same grace in the dance and it must have made a piquant contrast to the onlookers, to see me dance with his brother immediately afterwards. The floor was full but I knew we were watched, so I did my best.
Afterward, Gervase escorted me to find a glass of wine. “You’ve repeated your Venice success tonight. They were transfixed, you know. Did Richard do that in Venice when he danced with you at the Contessa’s?”
“Do what, Gervase?”
“Open up, show everyone how much you mean to him.”
“Yes, but we were newly married then.”
He handed me a glass of ice-cold white wine. “He’s never done that before.”
“They may think it’s because of my condition, that he’s proud of me.”
Gervase smiled. “Oh, he’s proud of you but not because of that.”
I only just had time to drink my wine before Tom came to fetch me. He led me out to take our places in the set. He seemed rather subdued at first and wouldn’t meet my look directly but we were good enough friends to share any trouble. “What is it, Tom?”
He swallowed. Then he did look at me, his brown eyes showing nothing in his serious face. “Your husband just showed the whole of society how much he loves you. They’re all talking about it.”
I smiled and flushed a little, as I rose out of my first curtsey in the dance. “He did, didn’t he? Gervase tells me that Richard has never done that before.” I knew the reason for Tom’s reticence then. “I’m sorry, Tom.”
“Nonsense. I’m glad you found someone worthy of you.”
“You think Richard’s worthy of me?” Tom hadn’t always thought like that. I carefully brought my hand to a gentle stop with a tiny flourish. Richard, dancing nearby with his sister, smiled as he saw the movement he’d taught me. I smiled back.
Tom sighed. “Yes. You’ve let me see enough of your private life to see how close you are. He cares for you very much. I don’t know him well at all but I know he means to make you happy.”
“I’m glad you see that, Tom. I’m just sorry—about the other thing, that’s all.”
He shrugged. “I’ll survive. And I’ll always have your friendship.”
“Yes, Tom. Always.”
If my love for Richard had been unrequited, I could have lived happily with marriage to Tom but I would never have known the kind of passion Richard brought me and I wouldn’t have achieved anything like my potential. I still hoped Tom would find someone to care for eventually, someone deserving of him.
I did my best when I danced with him and I was rewarded by a smile at the end, much more cheerful than when we had stepped on the floor. “I can still remember the seventeen-year-old Rose counting her steps under her breath,” he explained as we left the floor. “Do you remember that time you said “turn” so loud that you startled all the couples near us?”
I remembered only too clearly my embarrassment and the sniggers but Tom had been generous. He’d counted with me and turned the whole thing into a joke, so by the end everybody was counting out loud and voicing the moves, forgetting who had initially made the faux pas. The remembrance made me laugh and I was glad to see the cloud leaving Tom’s brow as he led me to a chair. “I’m happy for you.” He saw me seated.
“Thank you, Tom. We’re relieved.” I smiled and went on, “There’s been a certain pressure on us since we returned from abroad.”
He saw my point at once. “It must have been uncomfortable for you,”
“It was. Although it’s early days yet, at least we’ve proved it’s possible.” I spoke with caution. Richard and I had a long way to go yet.
Richard strolled over for a word. “I’m glad you’re sitting down at last.” He turned to Tom. “She’s showing a tendency to faint if she’s on her feet for too long.”
Tom looked at me in concern. “Rose doesn’t faint,” he said stupidly and then, “Forgive me, I was just surprised. I’ve never known you as the fainting kind, that’s all. I thought when you did it before, it might have been a stumble.”
I smiled up at him. “I’m not used to it but strange things seem to be happening to me lately.”
Richard’s face suddenly grew serious. “The game begins,” he said sotto voce and I looked up. Steven was approaching us, as suavely dark as Richard was sublimely fair but both had a glitter of danger. Glamour, the old witch-finders used to call it.
I felt rather than saw the whole company watching. The feud between the Kerres and the Drurys must be well known by now. Steven bowed to me. “You were wonderful.” I inclined my head in acknowledgement, not smiling.
Richard’s tension and Tom’s antagonism were difficult for me to ignore but I tried to relax and smile at Steven. I got to my feet in one graceful movement. “I have learned to enjoy myself.”
I put my hand on Steven’s and let him draw me away and I knew Richard would go in search of Julia Drury. He walked past Eustacia Terry without a glance. She stared after him and people noticed.
Steven wanted to outdo Richard on the dance floor. He was a good dancer, his talent enhanced by his height and virile good looks but he hadn’t Richard’s ethereal grace and the care that had led my husband to show me off. Steven was absorbed with his own appearance, leaving his partner to look after herself, expecting her to keep up with him. This attitude spurred me on rather than deterring me and I did well, putting a haughtier tone into my movements in response to his.
Steven was happy with the dance and led me from the floor, smiling graciously. One swift glance around the room showed me where Richard stood, conversing with Julia. I couldn’t see Susan, for which I was truly thankful. I asked Steven to find me a glass of wine and walked to a sofa by the wall, deliberately choosing one that would seat only two, away from the main press of the crowd.
Steven returned and gave me my drink, sitting down next to me and disposing himself gracefully. What seemed second nature to my husband required conscious thought in Steven’s case but he still showed to great advantage. The white wig, almost compulsory at a formal ball, didn’t suit him as well as it suited Richard but Steven’s classically handsome features looked good whatever he was wearing.
“You seem to be blooming, Rose.” I thought he might have heard about my pregnancy but he didn’t mention it specifically. “I never thought you would show to such advantage.”
“Why is that?” I waited to see how he would extricate himself. I didn’t like his casual use of my first name; it reminded me of past intimacies that I would rather forget.
He sipped his wine. “You were always so reticent. So shy. Has that husband of yours insisted on it?”
“Far from it. When we were first married, he offered to buy a house in Devonshire and retire from society. I said no.”
“I shouldn’t think his father would have allowed him to. Besides, men make foolish promises on their honeymoon.”
I found the remark unpleasant. “Did you make any?”
He shrugged. “Oh yes, many. Fidelity, constant love, total compliance. I never intended to keep any of them, any more than I suppose your husband did.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “He tends to keep his promises.” But this wasn’t the approach I wanted to take, so I banished the cold note from my voice. “Fidelity?”
“Your husband isn’t known for it,” he reminded me, smiling urbanely.
“No indeed.” I let him draw his own conclusions. “Are you?”
“Not any more.” He looked directly at me and I met his velvet gaze. I used to spend hours just gazing into those dark eyes. “But Julia prefers it that way.”
“I can’t believe she prefers you to stray.” His choice of words surprised me.
“She has her own preferences.” He kept my attention. If I looked away, it would seem as if he’d shocked me and I didn’t want him to see that. I said nothing and let him talk. “We have a workable arrangement.”
Finally, his gaze left mine and released, like a rabbit by a snake. He glanced at Eustacia, standing not far away surrounded by beaux. “She developed well, didn’t she?”
“She seems to be behaving exactly as she always did.” I wasn’t really interested in Eustacia now. “I don’t see your wife’s little maid tonight.”
“She’s upstairs with the other servants.” Steven still watched Eustacia with the same intensity he had used on me a moment ago.
I took a chance. “Do you know whose daughter she is? The little maid?” I kept my voice clear of emphasis.
At last, I’d pulled his wandering gaze back. I met it then looked away, on the pretext of putting down my glass. “Do you?” he asked.
I’d hoped to get more out of him than that. “I think so.”
He watched carefully, eager for my response. “She’s the daughter of that maid, Lucy Forder.”
“The one found dead at my aunt’s house,” I continued for him, reminding him why I would be interested. “You had some connection with her, I believe.” I was proud of my ability to remain coolly detached.
He shrugged. “She did some work for my wife. Sewing and the like.”
“There was a lot of money found in that room. More than Forder could have earned by sewing.”
He smiled then, a slow, reminiscent smile. “She did a little more than sew.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. If I enquired further he might tell me. I didn’t think I wanted to know but I was determined to protect Richard from further hurt if I possibly could. Steven watched me, trying to gauge my reaction but I was jolted out of my thoughts.
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