Reawakening Miss Calverley

by Sylvia Andrew

  ‘Very effective.’

  They danced in silence for a few minutes, then he began again. ‘Is your father fully recovered from his illness?’

  ‘Very nearly.’

  ‘I hear his return to London was delayed because of it.’

  Why did he have to keep returning to matters she was particularly anxious to avoid? Couldn’t he see that she didn’t want to talk about them? She forced herself to say quite normally, ‘He still tires easily, but I am sure he will soon have his strength back.’ Once again she steered the conversation to safer ground. ‘The…the orchestra tonight is remarkably good, don’t you think?’

  ‘Remarkably. But I am sorry.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘That your first acquaintance with England was so unfortunate. I suppose your father’s weakness forced you to make the journey to London in easy stages? That must have been tedious for you both.’

  They were separated once again by the dance. This time Antonia was really angry. He had to be doing this deliberately. There was something of a snap in her voice as she said, ‘On the contrary, it gave us an opportunity to admire the scenery!’ She lifted her chin, and gave him a bright smile as she continued, ‘I had not realised how lovely the English countryside can be, even in spring. We were both enchanted by it. Of course, the weather has been unusually kind.’ One more round, she told herself as she whirled away, and this interminable dance would be over. ‘Do you think it will hold?’ she said when they met for the last time.

  The music came to an end with a flourish and with the utmost relief Antonia curtsied to him and made to leave the floor without waiting for an answer. But he caught up with her and took her arm.

  ‘Come, Miss Calverley!’ he murmured, looking down at her reproachfully. ‘I am disappointed. You can surely do better than that.’

  She looked up, astonished. One eyebrow was raised and he had a distinct look of amusement in his eyes.

  Antonia stopped and demanded, ‘What do you mean, sir?’

  The ballroom had warmed up as the evening progressed, and someone had opened more of the windows leading onto the terrace. Now he drew her through the nearest one, but when she resisted he went no farther than the threshold.

  ‘If you don’t wish to talk about your journey,’ he said softly, ‘a young woman who has travelled the world so widely surely ought to find more interesting alternatives than Lady Carteret’s decorations, the merits of her orchestra, or, God help us, the weather! Any simpleton can fill the time with such trivialities.’

  Antonia’s throat was dry. This was more than chance. Lord Aldhurst had somehow heard something about her missing week and was fishing. Always at her best when she felt under attack, Antonia braced herself. ‘I am sorry if I bore you,’ she managed to say sweetly. ‘I thought I was suiting my remarks to my company.’

  James laughed out loud. ‘Well said, if inaccurate! You don’t really mean that. Why don’t you want to talk of your return to England?’

  Had one of her aunt’s servants been talking? Had news of those missing days begun to percolate via London’s servants’ quarters to the rest of society? A cold shiver went down Antonia’s spine—what if people started to put the same questions to her father? She now saw how dangerous it had been to come tonight without having first told him the truth. She said in a low voice, ‘You are perfectly right. I do not wish to talk of my return. Why will you not let the subject rest? It was a stressful, very stressful, situation, and I do not wish to discuss it.’ She clasped her hands together to hide the fact that they were trembling, but try as she might she could not keep her voice entirely even, as she went on, ‘You will oblige me by not questioning my father about it, either. He is still not perfectly well, and it will only upset him.’

  Till now he had maintained an irritating air of someone with a private source of amusement, but at this he grew quite serious. Taking her hands in his and holding them firmly, he said, ‘That is the last thing I want to do. I have no wish to upset either of you.’

  She felt strangely comforted. But there it was again—the consciousness of his hands round hers, the feeling that her blood was running faster through her veins because of it…That strange desire to be closer, held in his arms…She must be mad! ‘Thank you,’ she managed to say, taking her hands away.

  ‘But I should still very much like to hear more about your travels. Do you ride, Miss Calverley?’

  ‘Of course, sir. Though I haven’t yet been riding in London.’

  ‘Would you care to ride with me tomorrow morning? I could introduce you to Rotten Row in Hyde Park.’

  ‘Of course I won’t! I hardly know you.’

  ‘I’m hoping that time will remedy that. Please come! I promise to behave…impeccably!’ He was looking at her still with that little smile in his eyes, and once again she felt a strong pull of attraction. She would be mad to agree.

  He was waiting. ‘You look as if you are about to refuse,’ he said. ‘Would you prefer to go for a drive instead? Or…are you afraid, Miss Calverley?’

  ‘Afraid? Of course not! Why should I be afraid? What on earth is there to be afraid of?’ She could hear her voice rising and stopped and cleared her throat. She was ready to present him with a perfect excuse, until she looked up at him. How could a man smile and at the same time look so anxious? ‘Very well,’ she heard herself say. ‘Thank you, I should like to ride in Hyde Park. But I have something I must do first. Shall we say noon? And now I should like to rejoin my father, if you please.’

  * * *

  Croxton heard them walk back into the room. He stood thinking on the terrace for a moment, then left Marchant House without taking his leave of his hostess and went out into the night in search of Briggs.

  * * *

  Sir Henry had always been an early riser, and even after a late night he was up and finishing his breakfast by the time Antonia came downstairs to join him.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you so early, my dear,’ he said, rising to greet her with his customary courtesy.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep, Papa. And I wanted to see you before my aunt was up.’

  Sir Henry laughed. ‘She won’t be down for some time. Late to bed and late to rise—that was always Frances! What was it you wanted to see me about?’

  ‘Shall we go into the library?’

  Sir Henry was still smiling. ‘That sounds serious! Very well. As soon as you are ready, the library it is.’

  Once in the library Antonia closed the doors carefully, waited until her father was sitting back comfortably in his chair behind his desk and then stood facing him.

  ‘You’re looking extremely serious, Toni. What is it? You haven’t fallen in love, have you?’

  ‘No, Papa! Nothing like that. I don’t intend to become involved with anyone at the moment. I’m not even sure why I agreed to go for a ride in Hyde Park with Lord Aldhurst later this morning.’

  ‘There isn’t anything wrong with that, surely? You can’t come to any harm in Hyde Park, and Lord Aldhurst has my approval as an escort. The general opinion among my friends seems to be that he is sound. Why don’t you want to be involved? I thought that was behind the idea of coming to London.’

  Antonia was finding this more difficult than she had thought. ‘I…I…have a confession to make. I was waiting until you were quite well again. But it can’t wait any longer…’ She paused.

  ‘Well, don’t keep me waiting—what is it? It can’t be anything to do with Croxton—that’s all done with. What else can be so important?’ said her father patiently.

  ‘It is about what happened in Portsmouth after we left you.’

  Sir Henry sat up sharply in his chair and exclaimed in surprise, ‘Portsmouth!’ Antonia flinched. He looked hard at her, then said gently, ‘It can’t be as bad as all that, my dear. Sit down and tell me. Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. We always have. But you must tell me what it is!’

  Antonia sat twisting her handkerchief in her fingers. After a mom
ent she took a deep breath and began, ‘You may remember that when we arrived in Portsmouth you were so ill that you couldn’t travel to London straight away, and you stayed with the Turvills. Time was short so we decided it was safe enough for me to go on ahead to London with the papers for the Foreign Office.’

  ‘I remember that. So?’

  ‘We were wrong. Lord Croxton’s men were lying in wait for us when we landed, and after Lawson and I had left you at the Turvills they followed us. Lawson held them back for a while, but I knew they would follow me, so I gave Martha the papers and put her on the London coach just before it left.’

  ‘You were taking a big risk trusting a servant with my papers.’

  ‘It was the best we could think of, Papa. When you hear the rest you’ll agree I did the right thing. Martha got away safely, and we collected the papers from her last week.’

  ‘How did you escape?’

  ‘I didn’t. The men caught me.’ She paused and swallowed, then began again. ‘They took me to an inn in one of the back streets near the dockyard. I told them I didn’t have any papers, but they decided to search me.’

  Sir Henry exclaimed and started to get up out of his chair and she said quickly, ‘It was all right, Papa! The landlady wouldn’t let them. She said it wasn’t right—she would search me herself.’ Antonia gave a wry smile. ‘In return she took my pelisse, my dress and my shoes and gave me a cheap dress and boots to wear in their place. I was so relieved that she had saved me from the hands of those men that I wouldn’t have objected, even if I could! I was locked in a cellar for the night and the next day I was put in a coach to be taken to London.’

  Sir Henry got up angrily from his chair and came round to her. ‘Antonia! I had no idea! Why the devil didn’t you tell me this before? I would have seen Croxton hanged for it!’

  ‘Don’t, Papa, please! You mustn’t get too excited, it isn’t good for you. We all came through it safely and the papers were delivered in time.’

  ‘Lawson rescued you?’

  ‘Not…not exactly. The coach took a wrong turning and had an accident. It had turned up a lane off the main road, so Lawson couldn’t find it when he came to look for me.’

  ‘An accident?’ Sir Henry looked so pale that Antonia hurried along to finish her story.

  ‘That accident made it possible for me to escape. And…and eventually I got here two days after you. They told you I couldn’t see you because I had a cold, but in fact I wasn’t here.’

  ‘What? But it can’t have taken you ten days or more. Where were you all that time?’

  There was a silence. Then Antonia said, ‘That’s really what I have to tell you. I…I don’t know. I don’t remember anything between running away from that coach after the accident and arriving on the doorstep of this house.’ In spite of herself Antonia’s lips trembled. ‘I have completely forgotten two weeks of my life, Papa!’

  Sir Henry took her into his arms and comforted her, thanking God she was safe. Then he walked restlessly up and down, stopping every few minutes to question her, or swear vengeance on Croxton. He called Lady Pendell in and sent for Lawson, and demanded to know why they had kept Antonia’s disappearance from him.

  Sir Henry eventually calmed down enough to listen to them, but afterwards he and Lady Pendell knew they were threatened with catastrophe. News of Antonia’s missing two weeks would be perfect fodder for every scandalmonger in London! Her reputation would be in tatters and her chances of making a good match reduced to nothing. Long after Antonia had reluctantly departed for her ride in Hyde Park, her father sat with his sister in the library, trying to decide what could be done.

  Chapter Thirteen

  James had returned from the ball at Marchant House full of elated optimism. He had found Anne, but not only that, there was nothing to stop his marrying her—she had no husband, and, as far as he could tell, no other commitment. Compared with those two miracles everything else paled into insignificance. The fact that she had turned out to be London’s latest matrimonial prize was irrelevant. He wanted to marry her, whoever she was.

  His elation faded a little when he began to consider his next step. It had been a shock to realise that Anne had completely forgotten him, but now he could see that this was perhaps not so very unexpected. Her two worlds—her real identity and the one she had adopted at Hatherton—had somehow become completely separate. At Hatherton she had forgotten Antonia’s past life, and in London she had forgotten Anne’s. He called to mind the words of his friend in Guildford. ‘The loss of memory is probably temporary. Don’t tell her who she is. Let her remember it for herself.’ His friend had been right. Anne had remembered Antonia, though it was ironic that she had forgotten Anne in the process. Now, he supposed, he must be patient again. He must wait for Antonia to remember Anne.

  * * *

  After a while he began to be intrigued by the situation. He had fallen in love with Anne, and had won her love in return at a time when she had been completely dependent on him. Now it looked as if he would have to win her all over again, this time, no doubt, in the face of some keen competition. He might have started off rather badly, but he had at least persuaded her to ride with him the next morning.

  But whatever he decided to do about telling Antonia, he could not keep her family—more particularly her father—in ignorance of where she had been. He must seek an interview with Sir Henry.

  James began to plan his campaign with interest.

  * * *

  Antonia set out that morning to meet Lord Aldhurst, relieved that her father now knew the worst. But on the other hand it had been brought home to her how unlikely it was that her secret could be kept for ever—even a whisper or an unguarded remark would be enough to start rumours flying. Was that why Lord Aldhurst had been so persistent the night before? Had he some reason to suspect her? If only she could remember!

  Lawson had saddled her mare and was waiting for her at the stables when she came out. ‘The Park should be safe enough, but she’s fresh and feeling a bit skittish, Miss Antonia. Don’t take any chances with her—you don’t know her well enough yet.’

  ‘But she’s beautiful. Don’t worry—I’ll be sensible. When am I not, Lawson? Shall we go?’

  * * *

  But when she saw Lord Aldhurst waiting for her at the gate to the Park she was less sure of her ability to remain sensible. That little leap of the heart wasn’t very sensible at all! Nor the feeling of attraction, which was as strong today as it had been the night before. Neither his strange behaviour when they first met, nor her aunt’s warning, had apparently cured that treacherous little leap of her heart. Why was she so sure that he would never harm or upset her? And what if she was wrong? But she put these questions behind her as she drew up at the gate and wished him good morning as coolly as she could.

  ‘Good morning,’ he replied, giving her a small smile. If she hadn’t known him to be supremely self-confident she would have said the smile had an element of relief in it. Relief and something more…He was looking at her as if she was…precious.

  ‘It’s—it’s—a-a b-beautiful day,’ she stammered, trying not to allow that look to affect her. And why was his groom staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes?

  ‘It is now,’ he said. Her eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks growing warm. She had dealt with compliments far more blatant than that without turning a hair—why was she blushing like a sixteen-year-old novice? She bent forwards to pat her horse and said hastily, ‘Shall we ride?’

  They set off and rode sedately enough down to the Piccadilly end of the park.

  ‘It’s almost deserted here this early in the day,’ he said, ‘but if you were to come here at five in the afternoon you’d hardly be able to move for carriages and horses. This is Rotten Row.’

  ‘I’ve heard a lot about it,’ she said looking down the Row in front of them. ‘It looks very tempting at the moment, but my aunt tells me that galloping along it is frowned on?’

  ‘It is.
But who is here to see you, Miss Calverley? I won’t tell. Nor will Sam, here.’

  ‘All the same, I think I shall be circumspect for the present.’

  ‘Well then, we shall ride circumspectly. And you shall talk to me of places you have been to. I know Portugal, France and Spain quite well, but not many other countries.’

  ‘Were you in Spain with the Duke of Wellington?’

  They rode up the Row at a respectable pace, talking of Spain and France, and had almost reached the far end of it before they noticed it. When he chose, Lord Aldhurst could clearly talk interestingly with no nonsense, no flirtatious double meanings, and Antonia enjoyed listening to him. In fact, she was quite in charity with him by the time they came back to the gates, so much so that when he suggested another ride the next morning at the same time she readily agreed.

  He escorted her back to Upper Grosvenor Street and helped her dismount. Lawson led her horse away and she held out her hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I enjoyed the ride. I look forward to tomorrow.’

  ‘Will you be at Lady Fenwick’s tonight?’

  ‘No, my father is still living rather quietly at the moment. He mustn’t overtire himself, so he is staying at home and my aunt and I are going to a concert.’

  ‘May I escort you there?’

  Antonia shook her head. ‘Thank you, but Lord William Chatteris has already offered.’

  He frowned, then nodded and said, ‘In that case I shall see you tomorrow morning. Goodbye, Miss Calverley.’

  Antonia went in, wondering how to explain to her aunt that she had agreed to go riding again with Lord Aldhurst. But, she decided, of all the men she had met in London he was by far the most interesting. She had enjoyed her ride, and would not be put off from another one by any warnings of danger from her aunt. She had often lived with danger in her travels. It added zest to life.

  * * *

  Sir Henry spent the afternoon at the Foreign Office, but his mind was not on his work—it was full of bitter recrimination. He should never have put Antonia in such danger. Although she was safe and Croxton had been disgraced, his worries were far from over. He had made such plans for this visit to London with his beautiful daughter. After years of wandering the world, they should at last be able to find a suitable match for her, someone with whom she would be happy, and he would be able to settle down on an estate in the country and enjoy a peaceful retirement. He had planned to write…But now it might be better to take her abroad again. They would always be waiting for the scandal to break if they stayed here. Someone knew her secret. Someone somewhere must know where she had been!