At last they reached the top of the white marble steps and could look down at the glittering and noisy white-and-gold ballroom. The music of the fashionable London orchestra was barely audible above the chattering, laughter and thunder of dancing feet on the marble floor. Golden scrolls and exquisite plasterwork panels adorned the walls, and the ceiling was brilliantly painted with Greek gods and goddesses. Dazzling crystal chandeliers shimmered in the haze of smoke from cigars and fireplaces, and the delicious smell of the cold buffet drifted from the supper room. Footmen in crimson and gold bore trays of champagne and lime cup, and the floral arrangements were so abundant and outstanding that the ball might have been taking place in Paradise itself.
The steward’s staff rang out and she was announced. People strained for their first glimpse of scandalous Miss Mannacott, and Beth felt like a specimen under a microscope. She smiled nervously at Landry. ‘Please let’s go down and mingle.’ He didn’t hesitate, and they soon joined the main floor, where she was able to deal with only a few people at a time. She was introduced to more new faces. There was squat, ugly Sir Daniel Lavington, tall, forbidding Lady Bettersden, a gentlemen she only recalled as a Justice of the Peace from Barnstaple, Dr Carter of Porworthy, two elderly sisters whose looks and voices reminded her irresistibly of turkeys, and many, many more. Name after name went in her right ear and immediately out of the left again. She would never be able to remember everyone. But of one thing she was thankful, there were no old acquaintances.
She and Landry led the ball in a waltz, earning a ripple of congratulatory applause, and then they parted to dance with others. An hour or more passed before they partnered each other again, this time in another ländler, but then something at the side of the ballroom caught Landry’s attention. ‘What’s afoot over there, I wonder?’ He nodded toward Dr Carter, who had been urgently approached by a footman. The doctor’s smile faded and he hastened out of the ballroom. ‘No doubt some baby has had the poor taste to arrive early,’ Landry murmured, as he and Beth continued to dance.
But then, as the ländler ended, the ball was brought to a startled halt by the steward’s staff striking the floor to announce a very late arrival. His voice rang out. ‘Sir Guy Valmer!’ Beth’s blood chilled, and she whirled about to see Guy standing at the top of the steps, playing idly with the rich lace at his cuff. He looked superb, and commanded everyone’s attention as he surveyed the scene with an air of ennui. For Beth there was suddenly no sound at all, except the anxious rhythm of her heart. Nothing and no one else mattered, just him, and in those breathless seconds she knew she was wrong to marry Landry. The only difference between her feelings for Landry and those she’d known for Jake was the sexual attraction exerted by Landry, but the agony in her heart due to just looking at Guy was something extraordinary. Apprehension swept icily over her, yet at the same time desire scorched her flesh. His eyes suddenly came to rest upon her, and expectation quivered unnervingly between her legs. Her breasts became so sensitive that she could feel the flimsy material of her bodice against her nipples, and her mouth ran dry; it was a moment of such utter self-knowledge that she could have laughed or wept, because she knew he was her nemesis.
He descended the steps to approach Landry and her, and the ballroom parted before him like the Red Sea. His grey eyes were vaguely amused as he ignored Beth and addressed Landry. ‘Ah, Haldane, I believe my invitation must have been mislaid, but here I am at last.’ His voice stroked Beth like a lover, but still he didn’t look at her, and she couldn’t look away from his fingers as they continued to toy with the lace. Here was sensuality and sexual fascination on a scale that she could barely credit. He did not have to look at her to enslave her, and yet, did he care? Did he even see her in that way? She could not tell from his impassive face.
Landry was cold toward him. ‘You imagine you were invited?’
Such rudeness made Beth look at him in astonishment.
Guy, on the other hand, could not have been more amiable and charming ‘Come now, Haldane, put aside neighbourly feuds and introduce me to your intended.’
Landry’s face was a dull red, but feeling the eyes of the ballroom, he choked back his fury. ‘Beth, may I present Sir Guy Valmer of Greylake? Greylake, my fiancée, Miss Mannacott.’
Guy was the hated master of Greylake? Beth was startled, but Guy was smooth and unruffled. ‘I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, Miss, er, Mannacott,’ he said, extending a white-gloved hand. She hesitated and then allowed him to draw her fingers to his lips, although he was careful not to actually kiss them. Their eyes met for a moment, hers wide and apprehensive, his cool and calculating, and then he turned to Landry again. ‘A prize indeed, Haldane, I envy you.’
‘Envy? From you?’ Landry could not have been more scathing, but he caught the eye of the leader of the orchestra and gestured to him to play again. A waltz struck up, and gradually the ball resumed, although everyone continued to observe the man who’d brought the occasion to a halt in the first place.
Guy raised an eyebrow at Landry. ‘Do I perceive from your manner and tone that you’re in a miff with me about something?’
Beth watched him as he played with Landry. He was like a cat with a mouse, and she knew that Landry would never best him. Guy Valmer’s armour had no chinks, nor did the man himself. He might have been fashioned from marble and given the gift of life, so perfect, sensuous and unassailable was he.
Landry rose to the bait. ‘Miff hardly begins to describe my opinion of you, Greylake. You have far too much game, yet Bradfield trots here like a docile pony to complain that poachers cross my land to get to yours.’
‘Game?’ Guy’s lips twitched a little. ‘My dear fellow, I provide amply for my people, allowing them what they need, but I see no reason to provide for yours as well. That, Haldane, is your responsibility.’
‘I am not beholden to poachers!’ Landry snapped.
‘So your keepers have orders to shoot on sight, which means that your poachers invade my woods instead. All they need is food in their bellies, so please change your draconian rules.’
Beth was shocked. Landry had instructed his keepers to shoot poachers? She remembered the visit to Haldane of Guy’s agent, Bradfield, who had quite clearly not believed Landry’s protestations of innocent outrage. She found it hard to believe Landry would be so harsh, and yet there had been other matters which revealed him not to be quite what he ought to be….
Landry flushed, and Guy’s smile broadened. ‘This disagreement should not be permitted to blight Miss Mannacott’s evening, so I will make immediate amends by requesting her to honour me with this dance. Miss Mannacott?’ He held out a hand.
She looked to Landry for guidance, but he was too angry and turned his head away, leaving the decision to her. Provoked, she accepted Guy’s hand and allowed him to sweep her into the throng of dancers. For Beth, Guy was the only thing in sharp focus, because the chandeliers became a brilliant blur, and the other couples a whirling rainbow of colour and jewels. She felt alone with him. If you dance at midwinter you’ll need many lights to show the way. She needed no lights with Guy Valmer, for his very presence illuminated her darkness.
‘So, we meet again, Miss Tremoille. Or is it Miss Alder? Ah, no, it’s Miss Mannacott now, isn’t it?’
From somewhere she found the spirit to fence with him. ‘Please call me Beth; after all, I feel we know each other well enough now.’
‘Do we?’ Two small words, uttered so softly they could hardly be heard in the ballroom; uttered so softly they were like his breath upon her cheek. She was at his mercy, as was her heart.
She managed to answer. ‘Don’t you think so?’
‘One question begets another?’ He smiled. ‘Very well, let me ask another still. Did you enjoy the visit of the late Henry Topweather?’ When she didn’t reply, he continued, ‘Did you perchance despatch him as you did your stepmother’s courier?’
‘I confess to stealing the money, but had no hand in Joshua’s death!’
>
‘So, there have been two suspicious deaths which are connected with you, but you had nothing to do with either? Oh, dear, you’re suddenly the colour of chalk. Are you about to swoon away? I do hope not, for I would have to pick you up and carry you, which Holy Haldane would not like.’
‘Don’t call him that.’
‘No? Look at him, Beth, did you ever see such a petulant fellow? He practically gave your hand to me for this waltz.’
She flushed, because that was exactly how she’d felt.
‘Ha, I see you agree. Haldane isn’t quite the angel he likes to pretend.’
Feet of clay, she thought, and immediately felt disloyal. ‘Stop playing with me like this, for I can’t bear it. If you mean to have me arrested, please tell me!’
‘Arrested? My dear Beth, that isn’t my purpose at all, far from it. What I want from you is your hand in marriage.’
She halted, staring at him in astonishment. ‘Marriage?’ she repeated faintly.
‘Unless you would prefer imprisonment for theft?’
‘You wish to commit social suicide by marrying a woman you believe is guilty of two murders and theft? That’s hardly sensible, Sir Guy.’
Admiration glimmered in his grey eyes. ‘You have great spirit, Beth, but you aren’t a social disaster, unless one counts your indiscretions with Mannacott. I may know of your links to Joshua’s death and that of Topweather, but no one else does. Nor do they know how light-fingered you were with your stepmother’s hoard, and believe me, your notoriety because of Haldane will soon be a thing of the past. So you see, you’ll be perfectly acceptable as Lady Valmer. Therefore my proposal, and implied threat, remain the same.’ The waltz came to an end, and he bowed to her. ‘I don’t intend to leave just yet, so please take time to think about it. But I do demand your decision tonight. One thing you have to realize is that you are not going to marry Haldane.’ He indicated the diamond glittering on her white-gloved finger. ‘Return that showy piece of paste, Beth, for it’s even more vulgar than the gaudy ruby star Haldane has been tasteless enough to wear tonight. So, Beth, it’s me, or gaol, and I imagine I am marginally preferable.’ With that he turned and walked into the throng.
Beth was fixed to the spot with shock, until she realized how many curious eyes were upon her, at which she caught up her skirts to return to Landry. She walked in what she hoped was a carefree manner, and made sure there was a smile on her lips, if not in her eyes. Marry Guy? It was the last thing she’d expected. Why did he want her? What possible reason could he have for going to such lengths? Her mind darted in all directions at once. It’s me, or gaol, and I imagine I am marginally preferable. What could she do? What should she do? Defy him? But was marriage to Guy such a vile prospect? She would be denying her own soul if she said it was. On seeing him tonight, she’d reached an epiphany, finally realizing how disastrous a second-best marriage to Landry would be. Now Guy offered marriage. It was something she could never have dreamed of, and now that it was before her, it was something she wanted. There was no doubt in her mind – or body – that becoming Sir Guy Valmer’s wife was what she wanted. And yet … it would be marriage solely on his terms, and she had no idea how he really felt or what he thought. Clearly he had a very compelling reason for choosing her, but that reason did not touch upon love or desire. She was an instrument, for a purpose as yet unknown.
As she approached Landry, she saw that he was deep in conversation with Dr Carter, whose rosy cheeks suggested he’d had to go out in the cold for whatever emergency had called him away. Now both he and Landry looked grave, and she could tell that Guy’s unwanted intrusion had been temporarily forgotten. Landry turned as if to hurry away, but the doctor shook his head and restrained him. She read the doctor’s lips. It will do no good. What would do no good? What had happened? Her steps quickened and the two men broke off, the doctor in embarrassment, Landry in confusion. She looked from one to the other. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.
The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, but Landry answered. ‘It’s Carrie, she has taken a sudden turn for the worse. Doctor Carter does not think she will see the dawn.’
Beth was dismayed. ‘Oh, no. What of Katie? Is there anything I can do?’
Doctor Carter glanced enquiringly at Landry, who nodded. ‘Speak as you wish, Doctor, for Miss Mannacott is aware of the truth.’
‘I see. Well, Miss Mannacott, I have just attended to Miss Markham, not that there is anything I can do, except make her as comfortable as possible with laudanum, which she refuses to take until she has spoken to you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. She is greatly distressed about Katie, and I believe needs to hear from you that the child will be cherished here at the hall.’
‘But, I’ve already assured her—’ Beth broke off and nodded. ‘Yes, of course I’ll go to her. If I can offer consolation, I’ll do so gladly. I’ll go now.’
‘I’ll accompany you,’ Landry said immediately.
The doctor shook his head again. ‘No, sir. Miss Markham is most insistent that it should be Miss Mannacott alone, and I think that under the circumstances her wishes should be paramount.’
Landry gave in, but reluctantly, and contented himself with insisting that Beth take one of the footmen with her, to ensure her safety in the snow and darkness. She hurried away rather guiltily, aware of seizing upon Carrie’s deathbed request as an excuse to postpone temporarily having to confront anything else. She despised herself for having reached such a point, knowing she ought to be distraught about the hurt she was about to deal Landry, just as she ought to have felt remorse for deserting Jake. She had a conscience about both men, yes, but her heart and soul told her she was right. A sense of destiny was upon her now, and that destiny was Sir Guy Valmer.
Guy had adjourned to Landry’s library, which was as brightly illuminated as the rest of the house but blessedly deserted. He helped himself to a glass of cognac, and then went to the desk, flicked back his coattails and took a seat. Selecting a sheet of fine writing paper, he commenced a brief note to Jane Welland. I have the missing will and the missing heiress, so Valmer House and its lands are as good as mine. He smiled at the use of the house’s original name. Jane, having been devastated by the beginning of the sentence, would be goaded by the sly sting in the tail. He continued to write. Tell your husband what you will, but be warned that he is bound to learn that your fine dowry is no more. Be assured that our next meeting will be in a court of law. Valmer. He recalled his meeting with Jane, at the time of buying Lancelot. It would be most agreeable to see her face when she received this little billet-doux. And Welland’s, for that matter. Rowan’s reaction he already knew, although to be sure the advent of a mysterious new lady love would appear to be occupying that young man’s thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Or so it seemed from the hasty note that had arrived at Park Lane at the very moment he, Guy, was setting off for the West Country. Rowan was in love, but was curiously coy about the young lady’s identity. Pray God she wasn’t a dairymaid … or someone else’s wife.
After sanding the note, Guy was about to hold a stick of red sealing wax to the candle on the desk, when he thought again. Would it be more prudent to have Beth’s acceptance first? One should never tempt Providence. Not that he was in any doubt about her response, because she had no real alternative. His confidence was such that he’d already despatched a Bell and Fox messenger to Greylake, with instructions that his late mother’s rooms were to be made ready for Miss Tremoille. Further, he’d halted at the Dower House on the way here and instructed a thunderstruck Mrs Cobbett to pack her mistress’s belongings, as Miss Beth would be leaving for Greylake before the night was out. Now he could even ape virtue by telling himself he was saving Beth from the unspeakable fate of marriage to Holy Haldane, a man whose exterior charm and self-crowned halo disguised a mealy-mouthed toad.
Guy smiled wryly. Given his confidence hitherto, why falter about sealing this note to Jane Welland? Providence could not be tempted
now. He held wax and candle together above the folded letter, and enjoyed the way the molten wax formed a little pool that only awaited his signet ring. ‘Well, Jane, we will soon face each other before the law’s majesty, and with Beth and Esmond Tremoille’s last will in my grasp, victory is bound to be mine.’ He relished taking on the new Lady Welland, because Jane was a formidable woman and tricky adversary. Even now, with the odds stacked against her, he was sure she would fight him with everything in her power.
The footman’s lantern jolted as he and Beth hurried toward the lodge, where a single small light shone at an upper window. Behind them was the dazzling brilliance of the hall, and all the lamps in the park. The night air was bitterly cold, and Beth shivered in spite of her mantle and muff.
At last they reached the lodge and, after removing her mantle and muff, Beth went upstairs, to find Carrie lying in bed, having just taken an infusion of honey and dried hyssop that had been prepared by a woman from the village. The woman, plump and swarthy, dressed in black, hurried out as Beth entered. Katie was asleep in her room across the tiny landing, and knew nothing of what was happening. Carrie’s fair hair had been brushed neatly and spread upon the pillow, and her face was ghostly, the unnatural flush having faded from her cheeks and the brightness from her hollow eyes. ‘Forgive me, Miss Mannacott, but I must speak with you.’ Her voice was feeble, and there was a rattle in her lungs.
‘There is nothing to forgive, Miss Markham.’ Beth sat on the edge of the bed in her exquisite green silk gown with its silver threads and tiny pearls.
Carrie gazed at her. ‘You’re so beautiful, I can see why he loves you, but you’ve danced at midwinter, and can never light the darkness that will haunt you now.’
Star-Crossed Summer Page 29
