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The Downstairs Maid

Page 24

by Rosie Clarke


  Blushing, Amy turned her attention to her plate, feeling embarrassed. The man had been staring at her, but she had stared back with as much interest. Her heart quickened, because she had never seen a man she thought more attractive, though there was something in the arrogance of his manner as he summoned a waiter that made her think he might be dangerous to know.

  ‘My beef fillet is very good; how is your salmon?’

  Amy brought her attention back to her brother. ‘Delicious. The sauce is even better than Mrs Hattersley makes, though you mustn’t tell her I said so.’

  ‘Excuse me sir …’ The waiter hovered near their table. ‘The Marquis of Belvane asked me to bring this to you, Captain Barton. He wishes to compliment you on the beauty of your sister and asks if you will introduce him.’

  ‘Belvane?’ Nicolas took the card from the salver the waiter was holding and looked at the expensive vintage Champagne with a frown. ‘I’m not sure I know the fellow. Where is he sitting?’

  The waiter indicated the table, and the man who had attracted Amy’s attention earlier. Nicolas stared at him for a few moments and then his frown cleared.

  ‘Belvane,’ he said and nodded as he read the card again. ‘Yes, I believe we met at Eton when he was studying there – he was three years ahead of me. Would you like to be introduced, Amy? He’s perfectly respectable, though only the second to hold the title. New money in the old queen’s time, but the family did her a service in India and they were elevated to the peerage.’

  ‘Please go and speak to your friend, Nicolas.’

  Nicolas stood up, walked over to the marquis’s table and the pair shook hands; then Belvane stood up and followed Nicolas back to their table. Amy made to rise, because he outranked them, but he begged her to remain seated.

  ‘I have no wish to disturb your meal, Miss Barton,’ he said in a voice as smooth as silk. ‘I am pleased to meet you – Miles Belvane, at your service. If I may be of any assistance to you while you are in London, please do not hesitate to contact me.’

  ‘You are very kind, sir.’ Amy accepted the card he offered, her fingers brushing his for a second. The tingling sensation that shot through her was strange and left her feeling oddly breathless.

  ‘Not at all. I’ve seldom seen such beauty in a woman.’ His dark eyes seemed to convey all sorts of messages, most of which Amy suspected were not at all what her mother would think proper. ‘Barton, would you care to bring your sister to a small evening party at my home? It is this evening and short notice but I had no idea you were in town.’

  ‘I have to report back to my unit tomorrow but I should like to visit you this evening. If it suits you, Amy?’ Nicolas agreed with such enthusiasm that Amy imagined they had been good friends at Eton and assented.

  However, after the marquis had taken his leave, which he did after exchanging more pleasantries with her and Nicolas, her brother sat down and gave her an odd look.

  ‘Strange that,’ he said. ‘Belvane was years ahead of me when I was at school. He was an advanced student, way out of my league, brilliant on the rugby field and a first-class scholar. I’m surprised he even recognised me, let alone sent his card over.’

  ‘Perhaps he wants something from you.’

  ‘I cannot imagine how I could be of use to Belvane. As far as I know he is rolling in it – though of course there is a shadow over his birth. I’ve heard it said that the first marquis’s wife couldn’t give him an heir. There’s a whisper that Miles’s mother was an Indian girl, very beautiful but his mistress not his wife. His father’s wife was an English lady of good birth, but not Belvane’s mother so they say. When Belvane’s father brought the boy home from India she accepted him as her child, but most people still think of him as a bastard of mixed blood, because of his looks.’

  ‘There is something a little exotic about him,’ Amy agreed. ‘He is very attractive – but looks slightly dangerous, arrogant.’

  ‘Arrogant, yes. I’ve never heard anything wrong of him. Wouldn’t have introduced you if I had.’

  ‘I doubt whether I shall see much of him. His circles are too lofty for me.’

  ‘Just as well. Father might not take to Belvane, because of the hint of scandal in his past. However, it might do you good to see something of the high life, Amy. Don’t turn your nose up at him just yet.’

  ‘No, I shan’t,’ she said and smiled. ‘Are you going to have a pudding? I’ve seen some wonderful soft meringues floating in custard. I think I should like to try that – if you’ll have something too?’

  ‘Apple crumble if they have it or something else simple,’ her brother said. ‘Watch that sweet tooth, Amy, or you’ll end up like Mama.’

  ‘I shall not,’ she replied indignantly. ‘Besides, there’s nothing wrong with Mama – she’s had four children and two miscarriages, remember.’

  ‘I was only teasing,’ he told her. ‘You’ll age beautifully, darling. Just like Great Aunt Samantha Barton.’

  ‘She was lovely,’ Amy agreed. ‘I was sorry when she went off abroad and died there.’

  ‘She was far too scandalous to remain here. Three husbands and saw them all in the grave before she was forty. Her last husband’s family banished her when she took that Italian count as her lover – but she told me they were doing her a favour.’

  ‘I think it must be wonderful to have had such a life.’

  ‘It would have suited you to marry Arthur,’ Nicolas said. ‘I suppose you haven’t heard from him?’

  ‘No. I did write to him about something but I haven’t had a reply. It wasn’t important.’

  ‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you – but as you’ve just been made aware, there are plenty more fish in the sea.’

  ‘Nicolas, don’t be ridiculous,’ she said and blushed. ‘The marquis was simply being polite.’

  Amy had noticed that Belvane had left his table. Their waiter was bringing the pudding she’d asked for. Belvane was looking their way. He smiled and inclined his head as he saw her glance at him. She was glad of the distraction the waiter provided as he put the tempting pudding in front of her.

  Amy kept her eyes on her plate, though she knew Belvane was still staring at her even as he left the restaurant. She was beginning to get over her disappointment at last and being the object of a handsome man’s admiration could only help her hurt pride. Arthur had given in so tamely to her father’s demands that he should withdraw from their engagement that she’d wondered if he’d felt it was a mistake, even though he’d told her he still cared deeply.

  Her heart wasn’t broken, though she had cared for Arthur more than she’d realised. Her disappointment that she would not be the wife of a wealthy man, a man who could take her away from her dull, respectable life at the manor, had been overwhelming. She thought that if her mother hadn’t agreed to this visit to London she might have done something foolish.

  Her cousin Maude was already living in a rather large and expensive serviced apartment in London. Uncle Simon had bought it for her as a twenty-first birthday present and Maude had joined the ambulance service. She had her own maid to wait on her but the apartment was cleaned regularly by the management service of the apartment block and she either dined out or had meals brought in.

  Amy envied her freedom. If she could just persuade her mother to let her join Maude in London she would be free at last. Until then she must make the most of her opportunities.

  Belvane was exciting, even if she had sensed that he was dangerous. Yet the evening loomed enticingly before her and she found herself excited at the prospect of seeing him again.

  ‘Why so pensive, Miss Barton?’ A deep voice spoke at Amy’s side, making her jump and look at the man who had approached her. ‘I hope you’re not bored?’

  ‘Not at all, Lord Belvane,’ Amy replied, catching the scent his skin exuded. It smelled rather exotic with tones of sandalwood and ambergris. ‘You give wonderful parties. I particularly enjoyed the music earlier.’

  ‘Your brother is
playing cards. You do not find them amusing?’

  ‘I don’t mind a hand of whist occasionally, but I am not a gambler.’

  ‘It would seem you are a paragon. Beautiful, good mannered and without vice.’

  ‘I am certain that is not true, sir. I think you exaggerate on more than one count.’

  ‘You were engaged to be married to Sir Arthur Jones I believe?’

  ‘Yes.’ Amy stiffened. ‘He withdrew on the grounds that his reputation was smeared and I accepted his wish.’

  ‘Would you have married him if he hadn’t done the decent thing?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Why not? I may not approve of what happened regarding the shareholders, but I should have kept my word if he’d asked.’

  ‘As I understand it, it was the company that lost money. Jones must have retained most of his fortune.’

  ‘Yes. I had thought he would be morally responsible but his lawyers absolutely forbade him to admit any liability.’

  ‘Naturally. Why should he sink with the company? One must protect oneself – do you not agree?’

  ‘To a certain extent – but I feel for the people who could not afford to lose their investments.’

  ‘Ah, a moralist. You were right; you do have a flaw, Miss Barton. One thing that annoys me is a woman who spouts morals at me. I would have seen you as adventurous – a lady after my own heart, ready to throw her hat over the moon.’

  ‘I do not think of myself as a prude, but I believe that Sir Arthur was and is morally responsible for those who lost money. It was his company and he invited people to invest, endorsing it as being sound. I would have hoped he could do something to help those worst affected – had I money of my own I should have done so, no matter what the lawyers thought best.’

  ‘I can see you have a mind of your own. I like that in a woman, even if you are a moralist. Perhaps I can lead you astray, teach you that life does not always have to be played by the rules?’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand you, sir.’

  ‘Oh, I think you might if you put your mind to it. You are quite lovely – and I adore beautiful women.’

  ‘Yes, I imagine you might. However, I am not in the market for a relationship, sir. I was engaged to a man I liked very much and to become intimately involved so soon might seem uncaring.’

  ‘I must have misread the signals, Miss Barton. I had hoped we might become good friends, intimate friends, but since you do not feel able to oblige me, I must stand back.’

  ‘Friendship is always acceptable.’

  ‘I had more than mere friendship in mind. I shall be plain, Miss Barton. I had thought you might become my mistress, but I see that I was mistaken in you. When I learned you had come to London and seemed to ignore the gossip concerning the termination of your engagement I thought … but forgive me, I see that it affects you more than I thought. You are not ready for an affair of passion.’

  Was he drunk? She had caught a faint whiff of alcohol on his breath but he seemed in control of himself. Yet to speak to her like that was outrageous. How could he imagine that she might consent to such an arrangement?

  Amy watched him walk away to speak to his other guests. She felt an odd tightness in her breast and wondered why she felt torn between slapping him across the face and being caught up in his arms.

  His mistress indeed! How dared he make such a suggestion to her? She was the daughter of a peer and respectable. Why should he imagine that she would wish for a clandestine affair?

  She looked around the gathering, recognising only a few of the other guests. One or two were known to her, and had visited her home, but the men were among the more racy gentlemen, friends of her brothers. She would normally have little to do with them. The women in the room were mostly unknown to her and some of them seemed to be less than respectable, their gowns more revealing than her mother would think proper and their complexions heightened by rouge. Had she known what the gathering would be like she would have refused to attend it.

  ‘Miss Barton, are you quite comfortable?’

  Amy turned in relief to the man who had addressed her. He at least was perfectly respectable, a man she had seen in her father’s company on several occasions. Older than she was by some years, and rather like Arthur in his ways.

  ‘Mr Chester,’ she said with relief. ‘I had not seen you. I enjoyed the music earlier but have found myself at a loss since then. I do not wish to play cards and … some of the company is not …’ she stopped, lowering her gaze.

  ‘I understand perfectly,’ he replied with a slight smile. ‘I must say that some of the gentlemen and ladies present this evening are not to my taste either. I was on the point of leaving when I saw you standing alone. Belvane seemed to distress you?’

  ‘No, I am not distressed. I think he is a man who speaks for effect. I had not truly met him until this evening.’

  Amy was conscious of a sense of disappointment. She couldn’t help wishing that she’d been more receptive towards the marquis, because now he would just discount her as a prude – and she wasn’t. His directness had taken her breath away, but it had also made her heart race. For a moment she wished she were brave enough to kick over the traces and do whatever he desired of her.

  She felt a hot flush spread all over her body. Whatever was she thinking? She was a respectable young woman and she had no intention of throwing away her chance of marriage just for an affair with Miles Belvane – however exciting he was. Yet she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be kissed by a man like that.

  Chapter 26

  Emily’s heart caught as she saw the man walking down the landing towards her. He was dressed in a smart evening suit and looked so handsome that it took her breath away. She looked at him shyly as he stopped to speak to her.

  ‘How are you, Emily?’ he asked. ‘I hope you’re feeling a little better now?’

  ‘I still feel sad for my father, dying alone the way he did – but I know he wouldn’t want me to cry all the time. Besides, I don’t have time for tears.’

  ‘Work is a great healer,’ he said. ‘I’m taking Amy to a party this evening. I thought this would be a quiet leave but I’ve hardly had time to catch my breath.’

  ‘If it isn’t too rude of me, sir – are you enjoying your life in the RFC?’

  ‘It isn’t rude at all, Emily.’ Mr Nicolas grinned at her. ‘I love being up there in the clouds – most wonderful feeling in the world. Not sure how I’ll feel when I have to start shooting at someone for real, but the training was fun.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re happy, sir. I’d best get on or I shall be shot at dawn for desertion.’

  Mr Nicolas laughed, appreciating her joke. ‘I’d better let you get on then. I hope they’re not working you too hard?’

  ‘Nothing I can’t manage, sir.’

  ‘If only the rest of the world were like you, Emily. We should have no wars … just perfect peace.’

  ‘You’d get bored then, sir. You need a little conflict to make it worthwhile – don’t you?’

  Emily laughed and walked on by, knowing that he was watching her. The look in his eyes told her he was far from indifferent. Her heart was still racing but she felt pleased that he’d taken the time to speak to her, instead of walking straight by as his father did. Neither Lord Barton nor his wife ever looked at her if she came within their orbit, and Lady Prior looked down her long nose at any servant who dared to step out of line, but the younger generation was different. Miss Amy seemed pleased with the service Emily gave and Miss Lizzie always had a nice smile when they met, and Mr Jonathan was very polite – but Mr Nicolas was the one she really liked. Not that she could ever be anything to him or he to her – he was out of her class. Emily wanted to be better than she was, but she could never aspire to being the wife of a lord’s son.

  Now why had she even thought of that? Was she getting ideas above her station? Mrs Hattersley would certainly think so and Ma would say she was ridiculous – but Emily couldn’t help noticin
g the way Mr Nicolas looked at her sometimes. She was sure in her own mind that he liked her a lot.

  Of course it wouldn’t be marriage he had on his mind, but he was too nice a gentleman to take advantage of a girl like her.

  ‘Nicolas is taking me to a special party this evening,’ Amy said when Emily went up to help her dress. ‘I didn’t bring many evening gowns with me as I did not expect to go out much.’

  ‘It’s a very pretty dress, miss,’ Emily said, spreading the pale yellow silk gown on the bed. ‘I know you wore it last week but your friends probably didn’t see you.’ It was a very simple dress but caught up at the back with a frill of cascading lace, and had been extremely expensive.

  ‘No, they wouldn’t have done,’ Amy agreed. ‘You’ve sponged it and pressed it very well, Emily. It will just have to do because I do not have anything else suitable.’

  ‘You look lovely in this,’ Emily assured her as she brought it across and held it over Amy’s head so she could ease herself into the beautiful dress, which clung to her slender hips and was very stylish.

  ‘Bring me the jewel box please.’

  Emily fetched the leather case and Amy took out a pretty diamond pendant and some matching earrings. Emily fastened the clasp and then Amy slipped in the hooks of her earrings.

  ‘I’ve locked this. You can put it away for me in my dressing case.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Emily carried the leather jewel case to the large dressing case and locked it inside, returning the key to her employer, who placed it in the drawer of her dressing table. ‘Have a good time this evening, miss.’

  ‘I shall be home before midnight. Until then you are free – unless you have work to do?’

  ‘Tomas said he might take me to a volunteer meeting if I liked – just for a couple of hours.’

 

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