Mayfair Rebel

by Mayfair Rebel (retail) (epub)

  Archie clapped his hand to his head in an exaggerated gesture of despair.

  ‘No, worse than that!’

  ‘Worse than Sir Robert – I don’t believe it!’

  ‘In a way, yes, because he’s young and good-looking, but he is rather a prig. I’ve got to admit that, even though he’s a friend of mine. And he altogether disapproves of wealthy young ladies of fashion.’

  May protested, ‘But I’m not a fashionable young lady.’

  ‘You’re certainly rich, though. I saw him at the Club earlier today and told him I’d done my best for him, and that he’d be escorting in the Frears heiress. He just looked down his nose and said, “Really?” – and he’s got an awfully long nose,’ Archie added thoughtfully.

  ‘Come on, Archie, now you’ve told me the worst, perhaps there’s still time to do a swap.’

  Archie shook his head. ‘Not a hope. He’s old Pennington’s son, and you know how Grandmamma’s still trying to marry you off – plenty of money there, too, on his mother’s side. You must have heard me mention Tate, May, we were at Oxford together. Decent chap, old Tate, straight as a die, not that we had much in common – he used to read books, you know – still, no one’s perfect, and I don’t suppose he meant to get a First.’

  ‘You’re just jealous, because you only scraped a Pass degree, and everybody gets one of those.’

  ‘That’s right, May, everyone does – so why did Tate have to be different? A good rider, though – you should see him follow the hounds.’

  May had decided by now that the rich, studious, priggish son of the Earl of Pennington was not going to provide the high spot of the evening’s entertainment – after all, he could hardly demonstrate his prowess in the hunting field by vaulting over the epergne halfway through the meal.

  She turned to Archie and asked briskly. ‘What is Chef preparing for us tonight?’

  By the time Archie had reached the confiture of nectarines May had decided that Archie’s friend Tate could look down his elongated nose as much as he liked, as long as he left her free to enjoy her dinner.

  ‘Chef is wonderful,’ she said fervently to Archie. ‘I don’t know how he thinks of his dishes – I can’t understand why no woman has ever snapped him up.’

  Archie rolled his eyes in mock excitement. ‘That’s it May, that’s the man for you, right on the premises. Why ever hasn’t Grandmamma thought of that?’

  May reached up and pinched his earlobe. ‘I could do worse – you, for example!’ Archie went into mock squeals of pain until Lady Andover appeared.

  ‘Children! Will you never grow up?’ But May saw her eyes were smiling, and she complimented May on her appearance. ‘How right you are to leave those fussy frills behind.’

  The guests began to arrive and the drawing room became a mass of vivid colours, intermingled with black and white.

  ‘Good evening, Miss Winton.’

  May spun round and there was Lord Hindlesham, his brown eyes alight with affection and pleasure. As she took his hand she noticed the new dusting of silver in the sleek dark hair at his temples, but otherwise he seemed unchanged by his ordeal. He had always looked older than his years, May suspected, and now others had caught up with him while he stood still.

  ‘You look very well, May – nursing obviously suits you. We missed you last Season.’

  May smiled at him. ‘I was on nights, and just starting work when you idle denizens of the West End began to play.’

  His eyes crinkled up. ‘You sound very like your friend, Miss Carter. And how is Miss Carter? I saw her last winter, you know.’

  May said, ‘Yes, she told me. She claims you restore her faith in the aristocracy!’

  He gave a smile, but there was sadness in it. He spoke softly, ‘I think she restores my faith, too – you know she has the happy knack of being both serious and light-hearted.’ Then his voice rose back to its normal level. ‘But May, she seems so frail – can she really cope with the heavy work I know you do?’

  May laughed outright. ‘Don’t be misled by Ellen’s fragile appearance – she’s as strong as a little Shetland pony. She’s only had two weeks’ sick leave in all the time we’ve been at St Katharine’s, and that was just a poisoned finger, which everyone gets. As soon as they’d opened it up she was as right as rain.’

  Lord Hindlesham winced and May remembered where she was. She must watch her choice of words – people were squeamish outside of hospital.

  He asked, ‘So she is set on making a career of nursing?’

  May hesitated, then spoke slowly. ‘I don’t know. Ellen is so good with the patients, they think the world of her, especially the children.’ May was conscious of Lord Hindlesham listening intently – what a kind man he was, so concerned about everybody, even a chance acquaintance like Ellen. She continued, ‘But in nursing you get to a stage where you have to tell other people what they should do – order them about – and Ellen doesn’t like doing that: she believes too much in people’s freedom, or perhaps she’s just too gentle. She was engaged once, you know, before she came to St Katharine’s. Her fiancé died very suddenly of pneumonia. Sometimes, for all she seems to enjoy nursing, I wonder if she wouldn’t have been happier married, and with children – though I would have missed her had she never come.’ May ended confusedly.

  Lord Hindlesham said in an odd tone, ‘I’m sure you would, May, I’m sure you would.’ His face had become withdrawn and distant, and May berated herself for talking of marriage and children to a man in his position.

  She said quickly, ‘But have you heard what Chef has in store for us tonight? Archie has told me all.’

  At once Lord Hindlesham shed his introspective mood. ‘No, tell me. I have heard that Chef’s contributions to the diet at St Katharine’s have been discussed in Very High Places!’

  May began to laugh, and to tell him about the Royal Visit.

  She was still chatting to Lord Hindlesham when she saw her grandmother begin to move amongst her guests, discreetly sorting them into pairs. Wherever had this dull Tate of Archie’s got to? Then she caught a glimpse of her cousin edging through the throng towards her, before she turned back to her companion.

  Then Archie was beside her. ‘Ah, run you to earth at last. May, may I present my friend Tate?’ May turned with her hand extended, and found herself looking straight into the dark eyes of Walter Lisle. Archie’s friend Tate was the young vicar of St Barnabas’.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  They both stood absolutely still. The noise and bustle of the crowded room faded, so that May could hear only the drumming of her heartbeats in her ears. Then a large, satin-clad bosom came to claim Lord Hindlesham, and at his murmured farewells May unfroze, and managed a smile in his direction, before turning back to the tall, immaculately-tailored figure before her.

  She held out her hand. ‘How do you do, Mr Lisle?’

  Archie’s voice was surprised. ‘You don’t know each other already, do you?’

  May said, ‘We have never been formally introduced – is that not correct, Mr Lisle?’

  Walter Lisle finally found his voice. ‘No, no we haven’t, Miss Winton.’ At last he took her hand, grasping it firmly as he shook it.

  May felt a wave of acute embarrassment wash over her. She remembered that parting scene in the vicarage hall, and Mrs Tranter’s words seemed to echo round the elegant drawing room. It was clear from her companion’s expression that his thoughts were very similar. His face, which had drained of colour when he first saw her was now a fiery red, and May felt a matching tide rise into her cheeks. Archie, obviously totally bemused by their extreme reactions to each other, and realising there was a problem, moved in helpfully.

  ‘’Fraid you’ll not get much social chit-chat from May tonight, Tate old boy, she’s only come for the food, you know. My grandmother had to bait the trap with quenelles and soufflés and well-hung game, otherwise we’d never get her west of Aldgate pump.’

  Walter Lisle picked up the cue gratefully. ‘I m
ust admit, Miss Winton, that the memory of Chef’s luneheons has been a powerful inducement to me – I didn’t know you would be here.’ He realised what he had said, and stopped abruptly.

  May saw Archie raise his eyebrows behind Mr Lisle’s shoulder, and jerk his head towards the door. The procession for dinner was forming, and Lady Andover was trying to catch their eye. She began to move. Walter Lisle remembered himself and extended his arm to May and she placed the silken fingertips of her gloved left hand on the fine black cloth of his sleeve. They walked slowly towards the dining room. One by one the escorting gentlemen pulled back their partners’ chairs, and, all too soon for May’s peace of mind, she was sitting at the white damask with its gleaming expanse of silver and glassware; with Walter Lisle beside her and not one single conversational gambit in her head. What did you say to a young man whom you scarcely knew but whom on your previous meeting you had been loudly accused of seducing – and by a Bishop’s relict, no less? Mrs Tranter’s ‘shameless hussy’ rang in the air between them, and settled like lead on Chefs fragrant consommé. May picked up her spoon and with the first mouthful transferred the lead weight to her stomach. This couldn’t go on; she must say something. She put down the spoon, turned to her companion and spoke.

  ‘Mr Lisle, I am deeply sorry for what took place at our last meeting,’ she faltered, then gathered her courage again. ‘For seizing hold of you, and shaking you like that – and putting your visitor under such a terrible misapprehension.’ The final words came out in a rush.

  It was obvious that Walter Lisle wasn’t enjoying his soup either. He said, in a tone that was almost desperate, ‘Miss Winton, I feel responsible for the appalling manners of that dreadful woman.’ His voice shook. ‘She had no right to make those comments, and besides, it was all my fault. You had every justification for giving me a good shaking. I fully deserved it – however could I have let myself make such an indelicate remark to a young lady!’ He gave an involuntary glance at the swelling chiffon folds of May’s décolleté, then said loudly, ‘I was totally mistaken.’

  May, whose confidence had been rising at the undoubted sincerity of Walter Lisle’s words, blinked at his final statement, and must have looked slightly hurt, because he suddenly dropped his spoon with a splash and said, ‘Dammit, I mean it was a mistake to say it!’

  May turned and looked directly at him. His face expressed such bafflement and confusion that she felt the beginnings of a schoolgirl giggle well up inside her. He looked back desperately, seeming to sense her amusement. May controlled herself, put her hand on his arm and said, smiling up at him, ‘Mr Lisle, if you were indelicate, then I was immodest – I should never have seized hold of you in the way I did. Let’s forget all about it.’

  Walter Lisle slowly relaxed. He looked at her searchingly for a moment, then smiled back. He put down his napkin and held out his right hand to May.

  ‘Is it “pax”, then, Miss Winton?’

  May nodded, and they shook hands solemnly.

  When May looked round she saw that they had managed to miss the whole of the first course with their peace negotiations: the footmen were deftly removing the plates. She gazed in horror at her untouched soup, then leant towards Walter and under cover of his shoulder whispered to Robert behind her.

  ‘Oh, don’t tell Chef, please.’

  A flicker of acknowledgement passed across Robert’s well-trained face and May breathed a sigh of relief. She looked into Walter’s amused eyes and explained.

  ‘He takes such a pride in his creations – whatever will I say? We usually discuss the entire meal, course by course, before I leave: he has an exaggerated respect for my palate.’

  Walter smiled, then nodded across the table. ‘You’ll have to ask George Hindlesham, he’s the expert.’

  ‘Of course, you’re right, I will. I couldn’t bear to upset Chef, not after all the food hampers he’s sent us at St Katharine’s.’

  Walter Lisle grinned. ‘I envy you. Mrs Lewis is a good plain cook, but plain is the operative word, I’m afraid.’ He leant towards her. ‘I went to see Hetty again, but she said you’d been transferred.’

  ‘Yes,’ May replied lightly. ‘I’m on Elizabeth, the children’s ward. Temporary Acting Staff Nurse, no less – but only until Jameson’s recovered from the measles.’

  ‘I’m so pleased.’ Walter’s approval was warm and so obviously genuine that she blushed with pleasure. He went on, earnestly, ‘Tell me, with your experience in the hospital you must be in a position to make a judgment: what are your views on the Drink Question? Are you a supporter of Prohibition, or do you believe in more liberal methods of persuasion?’

  Unfortunately, at this interesting point in the conversation the Society Beauty on the other side of Walter, who had been eyeing his elegant profile in a predatory manner since the dinner began, finally pounced, and his attention was diverted. May in her turn found herself the object of the determined advances of the middle-aged bon viveur on her left, whose tactical manoeuvres she had been carefully ignoring up to this time. Still, at least she could give her full attention to the entrées now, since her neighbour only really wanted a pretty audience. What had the fish course been? She did hope Lord Hindlesham had been concentrating, or she would never be able to look Chef in the face the next morning.

  The iced asparagus arrived while May’s righthand neighbour was in full bore. However Walter had detached himself and he nudged May’s elbow – deliberately? – so that her plate slipped slightly and in the ensuing apologies she was able to make her escape in turn.

  Over the game course they thrashed out the Drink Question to their mutual satisfaction – they were in general agreement against Prohibition, but there were enough points of difference between them to add spice to their discussion.

  Their respective neighbours claimed their attentions for most of the sweet course, but this time May cut her bore short with a swift, ‘I think Lady Canning wishes to speak to you. Sir,’ and turned back and smartly rapped Walter’s wine glass so that it rocked dangerously and he had to steady it. The Society Beauty retreated, rebuffed. May had a quick glimpse of Lord Hindlesham’s simian face creased up in amusement across the table as he watched the little pantomime, and she felt herself blushing. He winked at her as he raised his spoon to the ramekins, and she began to feel it might be rather embarrassing to have to ask him for details of the finer points of the dishes she’d failed to savour. Still, it had to be done: she could never let Chef down – with his Latin temperament he was easily upset. As these thoughts were flashing through her mind she was smiling into Walter Lisle’s dark eyes.

  He said, ‘You know, I can’t get over the amazing coincidence of meeting you here tonight.’

  ‘Well, Archie and I do share a surname.’

  ‘But I still had no idea. The wretch quite deceived me – he kept burbling on about “my cousin May”,’ he looked self-conscious as he spoke her Christian name, but repeated it firmly, “‘My cousin May, the Frears’ heiress” – and talking about the shipyards. Why on earth did he call you that?’

  May looked down at her plate. She said in a small voice, ‘My mother was Mary Frears.’ She felt Walter Lisle’s eyes on the back of her neck.

  He said slowly, ‘And you still went to do the work of a general servant in the East End – because that’s what it is, certainly for the first year, they work you like drudges. I admire you, Miss Winton.’ His voice was warm and respectful, and May felt she had to put him right. She spoke quickly.

  ‘Nursing is much more than mere drudgery, even at the beginning – there are the patients, you see. Besides, I was no Florence Nightingale. I was bored, totally bored – I’m not a good dancer, and my father won’t let me hunt. There was nothing heroic about it: I went on an impulse.’

  Walter said softly, ‘But you stayed, didn’t you?’

  May, embarrassed, hit back. ‘What of you, then? There are plenty of delightful country livings I’m sure you could have been introduced to.’

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nbsp; Walter looked back at her, and suddenly grinned. ‘I’d be bored, Miss Winton, totally bored.’ They both began to laugh.

  They had to do their duty to their neighbours over the ices; then, all too soon it seemed to May, Lady Andover caught the ladies’ eyes. At their anticipatory rustle the gentlemen sprang to their feet and drew back the chairs. As he did so Walter Lisle said, quite clearly, ‘I’ll see you later, Miss Winton,’ and out of the corner of her eye May saw the Society Beauty direct at her a glare of pure envy. It struck May that Mr Lisle was undoubtedly the best looking man in the room. Feeling pleasantly smug she followed the Beauty’s gleaming white shoulders from the dining table. Unfortunately she found herself standing beside her at the coffee cups, where her grandmother presided. The Beauty, gesturing towards May said with an adder’s tongue to Lady Andover, ‘I see your granddaughter has still not made some lucky fellow happy, Melicent?’

  Melicent Andover handed the cup in a manner which subtly suggested its contents were pure cyanide. Her smile was brilliant.

  ‘Why no, Mrs Farquhar. Darling May has risen above the fashionable world, she has a vocation; she nurses the sick and suffering poor of the East End.’ Then, with a deft twist of the knife, ‘That’s why I was so anxious for her to meet young Mr Lisle; I knew they’d have so much in common.’

  Mrs Farquhar retreated, and went to sharpen her talons on poor Louise Canfield.

  May asked suspiciously, ‘Did you really bring Mr Lisle here tonight just to meet me?’

  ‘Goodness me no, my dear.’ Lady Andover’s face was surprised and ingenuous. ‘It was Archie’s idea; you know they’ve been friends since Oxford. And I knew his father well at one time – such an attractive man.’ Her lips curved in a reminiscent smile. ‘Unfortunately his son is just a little too high-minded – but I knew you could cope with him, dear.’

  May began to suspect that her grandmother had intended to display her to Walter Lisle as a frivolous Society butterfly, let him indulge in his prejudices, and then spring her profession on him unawares. How typical of Grandmamma! May felt quite indignant on Mr Lisle’s behalf; then it struck her that, unintentionally, that was exactly what she herself had done. She repressed a smile.