Melinda Hammond (18 page)

‘I am feeling so much better today, Godmama! In fact, I have asked Merlow to bring Bianca round in twenty minutes.’

‘My dear child, you cannot be thinking of riding today!’

*Why not? I am not in the least tired now. You must not fret, ma’am, I shall be back in plenty of time to prepare for tonight’s party.’

‘Oh, but I was this minute writing to Lady Addingham with our apologies. I had quite forgotten to tell her that we would not be attending.’ She saw Eustacia’s blank look, and added: ‘You will remember that we decided we would forgo the party tonight, for you were looking so worn out, and when I suggested we should rest you agreed—’

‘Oh, heavens, did I really? Pray do not send it!’ cried Eustacia. ‘Dear ma’am, I have promised so many people that I shall be there, I could not possibly cry off!’

‘But, my dear, you have been looking so pale of late—’

‘But I am not pale now, Godmama, am I?’

‘Well, no, but—’

Eustacia fell to her knees before her godmother and clutched at her hands.

‘Dearest
Godmama, pray tell me that we may go! I have been so looking forward to this ball, and besides, you yourself told me you wanted to wear the new lilac crepe that so becomes you, and what better occasion than this!’

‘Oh . . . very well, if you have set your heart on it, my love, but after this, you must promise me you will give up at least some of your engagements. If you go home looking positively haggard your grandfather will lay the blame at my door.’

Eustacia felt the hot tears pricking at her eyes.

‘You may be easy, then,’ she said. ‘I promise you, everything will change after this evening!’

* * * *

With so much to plan and organize, Miss Marchant wasted no time in fruitless speculation about the future, and an hour later she was trotting across Westminster Bridge and following her groom south on the Brighton road.

Nan’s visit to Bruton Street the previous day had elicited the information that Mr Lagallan would be returning directly to London from Worthing, and was expected to arrive in town mid-afternoon. Her groom assured her that she was travelling on the main route into Town, and she could only hope that nothing had occurred to change Mr Lagallan’s plans. She passed the turnpike at St George’s, trotted quickly past the asylum, and set off across Kennington Common. As the last of the houses disappeared, her groom brought his horse alongside hers, looking nervously about him.

‘There is no need to worry, Merlow,’ she remarked with more confidence than she felt. ‘Surely it is much too early for highwaymen?’

‘I’d be happier if we was back in the town, Miss.’

‘And we will be, hopefully, before too long! You did say this is the main road from Worthing, is it not?’

‘Aye, Miss, it is, but why you should want to ride out so far is a mystery to me.’

‘And so it shall remain, but not for much longer, I hope, for I am growing uncomfortably hot!’

‘Well, that’s hardly a surprise, Miss, if I may say so!’ declared Merlow, casting an eloquent glance at the heavy redingote she was wearing over her riding-habit. Feeling the sun on his own back, Merlow looked up at the cloudless blue sky and silently shook his head at the mysterious ways of the gentry. Ignoring him, Miss Marchant squinted into the distance, putting up one hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

‘Is - is that a coach coming towards us? I - I think . . . yes!’

She sighed with relief as she recognized Mr Lagallan’s high-stepping bays. The carriage was approaching at speed, and she brought her mare to a halt in the middle of the highway, waving frantically at the coachman.

The horses checked, and as the equipage came to a halt she saw Vivyan’s dark head appear at the window. Throwing the reins to her groom, Eustacia slipped easily to the ground.

‘Good afternoon, Vivyan! How fortunate I should come across you.’

‘Is it?’ Mr Lagallan’s dark eyes glinted at her as he jumped down from the carriage, but she met his suspicious gaze with her own innocent look.

‘I have been exploring, you see, but the sun is so hot, and I had just begun to feel a little faint.’

‘Well, no wonder at it, when you are wearing that dashed heavy surcoat! Here, let me help you take it off.’

‘I thought it might rain,’ she murmured, not meeting his eyes as she unbuttoned the coat.

‘Then you would have done better to stay at home!’ he retorted.

She did not reply, but swayed slightly against him. His face softened.

‘Come along then, brat, you’d better let me take you back.’

In a fading voice, Eustacia instructed Merlow to take her mare back to the stable, and allowed Mr Lagallan to help her into the carriage. Vivyan threw the offending surcoat on to the seat then climbed in beside her. Eustacia glanced at him from under her lashes, noting his stern expression.

‘It is very good of you to come to my assistance.’

‘It is my pleasure, ma’am.’

She began to pull off her gloves. ‘You are angry with me: you always become punctilious when I have offended you.’

‘You should not be here, alone in the carriage with me. What tricks are you playing now, Stacey?’

‘None, I assure you. Is Caroline quite settled in Worthing?’

‘Yes. She and the boys are comfortable enough. She has some thoughts of buying a house there, and plans to start looking for a suitable property once Philip joins them at the end of the month.’

‘And will you go back?’

‘No. I have an appointment with Miss Pensford’s father tomorrow, to draft out the notice of our engagement.’

There was an uncomfortable silence. Eustacia’s eyes roamed around the coach, looking everywhere except at her host — at the thickly padded squabs, the carriage-pistols gleaming in their leather holsters, the polished brass handles on the doors. Aware that Vivyan was watching her, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. The carriage rattled on, and she heard him sigh.

‘What a damnable coil!’

She did not move, but her heart went out to him: she was more determined than ever that her plan must succeed.

* * * *

As the carriage pulled into Fanshawe Gardens, Eustacia stirred and opened her eyes.

‘Oh, are we here so soon?’

Vivyan was already jumping down from the carriage. Eustacia rose and shook out her skirts, and as she did so her fine leather gloves flew out on to the flagway.

‘Oh, dear — I had forgotten they were in my lap! And my surcoat!’ As Vivyan stooped to retrieve the gloves, she turned back to gather up her coat before descending from the carriage.

With her coat draped over one arm, and her gloves held tightly in her free hand, Eustacia could only smile at Vivyan.

‘Forgive me if I do not shake hands with you, but pray believe that I am truly grateful to you for helping me! Will I see you at Lady Addingham’s tonight?’

‘No, I think not.’

Eustacia digested this information with no visible signs of disappointment: in fact, it suited her better that she would not have Vivyan’s percipient gaze upon her that evening. She looked up at him, trying to fix every detail of his dear face in her memory.

‘Goodbye, Vivyan.’ She hesitated, as if she would say more, then turned and ran lightly into the house.

It was not to be expected that Lady Bilderston would remain in ignorance of Eustacia’s return in Mr Lagallan’s carriage, but Eustacia waved aside her godmother’s concerns and insisted upon preparing for the party, declaring that she had never felt better in her life. Lady Bilderston could not deny that her god-daughter was indeed in quite her best looks; there was a healthy glow to her cheeks, and her green eyes sparkled as she sat before her mirror while her maid skilfully fixed a number of creamy rosebuds amongst her curls.

Lady Bilderston looked a little perturbed when Miss Marchant came downstairs with her thick travelling-cloak over her arm, but if she preferred to shroud herself in its heavy folds rather than a more elegant silk wrap, my lady felt unequal to the task of arguing. Instead, she merely shrugged her plump shoulders and led the way to the waiting coach.

* * * *

Later, in the grand ballroom of Addingham House, Lady Bilderston watched her god-daughter whirling around the dance-floor, and had to admit that the child showed no signs of her earlier malaise. Indeed, she thought she had rarely seen her so animated, laughing at Mr Alleyne who, by contrast, was looking unusually solemn. Lady Bilderston thought, too, that Miss Pensford was not in her best looks, but that might have been due to Mr Lagallan’s absence. Rumour had it that the couple were about to announce their engagement, so it was no wonder if the poor child was missing her beau!

Miss Pensford’s lack of spirits had not escaped Eustacia’s notice as she moved through the dance, and she remarked upon it to Rupert, asking in a teasing voice if he had quarrelled with her.

‘I? No, of course not!’ replied that gentleman, startled. The dance had ended, and he glanced over Eustacia’s head towards Miss Pensford. ‘Perhaps — perhaps I should speak to her, just to ensure that I have not unwittingly been uncivil.’

Miss Marchant’s green eyes gleamed. She said solemnly, ‘Yes, I think that’s a good idea, Rupert.’ Noting his worried look, her own eyes softened, and after a moment she said, ‘But before you do so, I think we should talk. Come with me, Rupert, it is important.’ She led him towards the tall windows that opened out on to the terrace. ‘Let us step out into the garden, where we may be private.’

‘Stacey, I am not sure we should,’ murmured Rupert, hanging back. ‘The proprieties—’

‘Oh, to the devil with the proprieties! It’s too late for me now!’ she added quietly to herself, thinking of her plans for later that evening. She tugged at his hand. ‘Believe me, Rupert, this is very important! Pray don’t be prudish.’

She dragged him down the shallow steps and into one of the shadowed walks that ran off at each side of the wide lawn. The clear sky was darkening, and the first stars twinkled above them. Only when Eustacia was sure they were alone did she stop and turn towards him. She stared up at him, meeting his puzzled look with her own determined gaze.

‘Rupert, I think it is time for the truth. I am releasing you from our engagement.’

Even in the dim light his confusion was evident.

‘R-releasing me? I - I don’t understand.’

‘Dear Rupert, I am sorry, but I find I don’t love you, after all.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘When we were in Somerset, I was sure I did — I think you swept me off my feet! But, but once I arrived in London, everything changed.’

‘Stacey, there is no need for this! You are confused, perhaps, because everything has happened so quickly.’ Rupert took her hands, giving her a tight smile. ‘Have I been a little distant recently? I am sorry.  I promise you, I don’t mean to cry off.’

‘Oh, how kind you are,
dear
Rupert! But we should not suit, you see. I am far too careless of convention for your taste, I know that, and you — well, you deserve better than to be tied to someone who cannot make you happy.’ She squeezed his hands before letting them go. ‘I have known for some time that my feelings have changed: I was going to tell you the day my grandfather came to London, but, but once you had declared yourself, and Grandpapa accepted so readily, I was too much overcome to tell you. But now — well, I know it would never work out, and I am releasing you.’

‘Stacey, I — I don’t know what to say. . .’ Rupert ran his hands through his carefully disordered locks. ‘My dear — if I have given you cause to think—’

‘No, no, you have been most punctilious in your attentions, but I do not love you, and you, I think — no, I am certain — your heart belongs to another.’ She smiled at his swift protest. ‘No, don’t deny it, Rupert. You love Helen, do you not?’

For a long moment Rupert said nothing, then with a sigh he turned away and, sinking down on to a low wall, he dropped his head into his hands.

‘With all my heart,’ he groaned. ‘We — I had hoped to conceal it from you.’

‘Don’t reproach yourself, Rupert. Perhaps if I had not fallen out of love with you, I would not have seen it. And Helen loves you, too, does she not?’

He sighed. ‘I — yes. But it cannot be. She is to marry Lagallan.’

Eustacia sat beside him on the wall, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘You must persuade her to cry off.’

‘She will not.’

‘But, Rupert, you must try! I know Mr and Mrs Pensford would not wish her to marry against her heart. And you are not ineligible; your fortune may be less than Vivyan’s, but you are not a pauper!’

He shook his head. ‘Helen - Miss Pensfold — has a strong sense of duty.’

‘Duty!’
exclaimed Eustacia. ‘There is no love between them; Vivyan knows that, but he cannot — will not — cry off, knowing how ruinous that would be to Helen’s reputation! Helen must be persuaded, Rupert. If she doesn’t love Vivyan, it is wrong of her to make him unhappy!’

Rupert raised his head and looked at her, sudden understanding dawning in his eyes.

‘So that’s it! By God, it’s Lagallan you care for!’

‘If Helen marries him, all three of you will be unhappy!’

‘But would you be quite so concerned if Vivyan Lagallan was not involved?’ He read the answer in her eyes. ‘Devil take it, Stacey, surely you don’t think he will marry
you?’

She flinched at the incredulous note in his voice.

‘Of course not, but I will do anything within my power to spare him pain. Persuade Helen to cry off, Rupert; there is no sensible reason why you two should not be happy.’

He looked at her. ‘Do you think so, truly?’

She smiled. ‘Truly.’ She gave him a little push. ‘Go and find her now.’

She followed Mr Alleyne back into the ballroom, and watched as he made his way to Miss Pensford. He spoke to her, then they moved back to sit on a small sofa that had been placed in one of the alcoves. Even from a distance, Eustacia could see that they were in earnest conversation, their fair heads close together, and she held her breath, willing Rupert to succeed, but after a few moments Rupert jumped to his feet. Miss Pensford averted her face, and raised one white hand in a gesture of dismissal. Rupert, his lips tightly compressed, stalked away.