Melinda Hammond (8 page)

‘Oh, you have caught my dog - thank you,’ she panted, as she approached. ‘He slipped his lead, you see.’

‘Did ‘e now? Well, that was very clever of the little fellow.’

‘Perhaps you will hold him while I put his collar around his neck—’

‘Not so fast, young miss.’ The other man stepped forward, putting up one dirty hand. ‘Seems to me we’ve rescued this dog of yours, and that should be worth somethin’, eh, Jacob?’

Eustacia stopped. ‘I’m sorry, I do not understand you.’

‘Well, it’s clear this is a very valuable little animal, and ‘is family should be grateful to get ‘im back.
Very
grateful, wouldn’t you say, Jacob?’

The other man’s eyes gleamed, and a black grin split his face.

‘Aye, Mack, grateful enough to pay a reward, I do reckon.’

A reward!’ exclaimed Eustacia. ‘I am sorry, but I have no money with me.’

‘Well, if you ain’t got no gelt on ye, then it’ll have to be that fine string o’ pearls around yer neck . . .’

Anger sparkled in Miss Marchant’s eyes.

‘My pearls! How dare you? This is blackmail! I insist you hand over my dog immediately.’

‘Insist?’ declared Jacob. ‘You hear that, Mack? The little lady
insists.
It seems she don’t want her dog back. But p’raps she’ll change ‘er mind when he starts to yelp a bit . . .’

Eustacia’s flushed cheeks paled. ‘You wouldn’t hurt a little dog!’

‘Oh yes they would, my dear,’ drawled a voice at her shoulder. ‘But if they value their skins, I think they will give you back your dog now, and unharmed.’

Eustacia spun round to see Mr Lagallan standing behind her, his swordstick drawn from its case and glinting wickedly in the pale sunlight. The two men stopped grinning.

‘We was just ‘aving a joke with the lady,’ said the one named Jacob, putting Snuffles on the ground and stepping back, his eyes never wavering from the swordstick.

‘Aye, we never meant no ‘arm,’ averred his companion, slowly retreating.

‘Then I suggest you go on your way, and we will say no more about the matter.’ Vivyan spoke pleasantly, but the swordstick waved gently to and fro before him, a silent menace.

Muttering, the two men turned and hurried away, and had disappeared by the time Eustacia had fastened Snuffles’s collar securely about his neck.

‘Vivyan, thank you!’ she exclaimed, rising and shaking the dust from her skirts. ‘I was never more pleased to see anyone in my life —  except when I was stuck in a tree, of course!’ She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling. ‘You are forever rescuing me.’

‘It is becoming a habit! Here, let me hold that leash while you put on your hat. Then I will escort you home.’

‘Thank you.’ Eustacia retrieved her bonnet, which was hanging behind her, secured only by the ribbons that had knotted about her neck. ‘I wore this to cover my hair,’ she explained, bundling her tangled locks into the hat’s crown. ‘But it was not secure, and flew off when I started to run. There - do I look more respectable?’

‘A very little!’ retorted Vivyan. He handed her the dog-leash and pulled her free hand on to his arm as he escorted her out of the alley.

‘I think it would be best if we went this way, into Green Park,’ he said. ‘It would not do to go back into St James’s Street. And perhaps you would like to tell me just what you were doing, running about in that hoydenish fashion?’ He glanced down at Snuffles who, exhausted by his exertions, was trotting along quietly at Eustacia’s heels. ‘But perhaps I can guess most of it.’

‘Well, there was a cat.’

‘Ah. Then, of course, everything becomes clear.’

‘It hissed at Snuffles, and he slipped his collar and chased after it.’

‘Naturally,’ said Vivyan, solemnly.

‘Well, it is natural for dogs to chase cats,’ argued Miss Marchant. ‘What could I do? I could not leave Godmama’s pet to lose itself in these streets. I was obliged to run after him.’

‘Through St James’s Street?’

That was unfortunate,’ she conceded, ‘but since so few people know me yet, perhaps it is not so very bad.’

‘That may be true, but I, on the other hand, am extremely well-known, and I was obliged to race after you. Pray spare a thought for
my
reputation.’

Miss Marchant stopped and looked up at her escort, anxiously scanning his face. Then, seeing the amused gleam in his dark eye she relaxed.

‘Oh, were you on the strut, sir?’ she asked him, innocently. ‘I had no idea you were a - a
Bond Street beau.
It would, of course, accord ill with your status to be seen running.’

‘No, my sweet saucepot, I am not a Bond Street beau, and it will accord ill with my status to be seen strangling you, but that event will very likely come to pass if I have any more of your insolence!’

Eustacia laughed, and squeezed his arm.

‘I am so glad you were at hand to rescue me, Vivyan! It was very wrong of me to bring Snuffles so far from his home, and I am cross with myself for not checking his collar was secure, but thank you for not scolding me, and telling me how foolish I have been, for I am very well aware of it, I assure you, and could not be more sorry!’

‘And may one enquire why you were in that vicinity in the first place, brat?’

Eustacia bit her lip.

‘I — I was looking for Rupert. I did not mean to go down the street at all,’ she hurried on, ‘I was walking Snuffles here in the Green Park, but the guidebook showed me several roads leading through to St James’s Street, so I thought I could walk as far as the corner and ... and
look,
just in case Rupert should be in sight. And everything was going so well, until we came upon that cat! Vivyan, do — do you think I have done irreparable damage to my reputation?’

He suppressed a grin.

‘Not irreparable, my dear, but that carrot-top of yours is distinctive. Fortunately, you have lived very secluded, so few people will recognize you, and it is to be hoped that when Lady Bilderston introduces you into society, no one will connect the decorous Miss Marchant with the red-haired minx seen racing through Town today. When is your first party?’

‘Five days’ time. Lady Trentham’s ball.’

‘Five days — a lifetime! Don’t fret, my little nymph, anyone who saw you today will surely have forgotten the incident by then!’

Miss Marchant was not so confident, but she said nothing of her adventures to Lady Bilderston, and even found the escapade fading from her mind as preparations for her first outing into society drew near.

* * * *

On the evening of the Trentham ball, Miss Marchant stood before her mirror, gazing in wonder at her reflection. ‘Godmama, it is perfect!’

Lady Bilderston smiled over her shoulder. ‘The gown is very beautiful, and so are you, my love.’

Eustacia turned, tears making her eyes shine an even deeper green. ‘How am I ever to repay you for all you have done for me? This gown is twice as grand as anything I have ever had before — better even than the gown Aunt Jayne chose for my presentation!’

She smoothed her hands over the material. The thin silver gauze hung like gossamer over the underdress of green satin, dainty green slippers peeped out from the edge of her skirts, and Cardwell had presented her with a pair of green gloves to complete her toilet. An emerald ribbon was threaded through the red-gold curls, and Lady Bilderston herself was obliged to blink away a tear.

‘Now, don’t cry, my love,’ she said, patting Eustacia’s hands. ‘You don’t want to make those pretty eyes of yours red. Eliza — Lady Trentham — is a very good friend of mine, and the world and his wife will be filling her salons tonight, so it is important that you are looking your best. Do you know, I am enjoying your visit much more than I ever thought I would, and I am very glad I had Celeste make up this gown for you. I am sure that your Aunt Jayne is an admirable creature, but when your trunks arrived, and I saw those abominable pinks she had chosen to trick you out in - and with your colouring, too! It was no wonder you did not
take
when she presented you.’

Miss Marchant’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

‘But Godmama, everyone knows that pink and white are the
only
colours for a debutante!’

‘Aye, if she’s a brunette!’ came the retort. ‘They serve only to make your complexion look sallow. No, we were very right to pack them all away, and I have told Celeste she must have at least three more of your gowns ready by next week.’

‘Oh, Godmama!’ Eustacia hugged her ruthlessly. ‘I feel just like Cinderella!’

Lady Bilderston gave a fat chuckle.

‘Well then, my dear, the carriage will be at the door at any moment: let us get you to the ball before all your finery turns back to rags!’

Chapter Seven

Trentham House was already full when they arrived and, glancing at the coaches lined up behind them, Eustacia wondered how they would ever fit so many guests into the house. Their hostess greeted them with a triumphant smile.

‘Such a dreadful squeeze, my dears, I declare we shall be excessively uncomfortable. It will be such a success!’

Miss Marchant was a little awed by so many strangers, but her spirits lifted when she spotted Major Lagallan and his wife across the room. Making a mental note to seek them out later, she gave her attention to the young man being introduced to her, and as he led her on to the dance-floor, she forgot her own nervousness and attempted to put him at his ease. Lady Bilderston nodded and smiled her encouragement, and went off to join her friends for a cosy gossip, confident that her young charge would not be without a partner for the best part of the evening.

* * * *

When Mr Lagallan arrived, shortly before eleven, he found Eustacia in high spirits. During a break in the dancing, he made his way towards her.

‘Well, Miss Marchant, are you enjoying yourself?’

The glowing face that was turned towards him gave him his answer. He grinned.

‘I suppose I am too late to claim a dance with you?’

‘Heavens, yes. I am engaged for every dance! But you can expect nothing else if you will arrive so late!’

‘Shrew!’

Her eyes sparkled.

‘No, how can that be when I am merely telling the truth? But, Vivyan, tell me honestly, do you like my gown?’ She stepped back, spreading her skirts and twirling before him. Vivyan grinned inwardly as those nearest raised their brows: it would seem Miss Marchant was unaware that fashionable young ladies should never display such enthusiasm at a party! ‘It is very beautiful, don’t you think? Godmama had it made up for me.’

He raised his glass to study her. ‘Very fetching.’

‘Is that the best you can do?’ she demanded. ‘You should know, sir, that I have received some very fine compliments this evening.’

‘I’ll wager you have, you abominable brat! Very well, you look like. . . .’

She waited expectantly, her ready smile hovering on her lips.

‘A frost-coated plant.’

She gave a gurgle of laughter, and put one hand up to her red curls.

‘A marigold, perhaps, or even a carrot! Look, my partner approaches for the next dance, so I leave you, Mr Lagallan.’ She tossed her head, her eyes dancing. ‘You do not deserve that I should talk to you!’

Smiling, he watched her skip away to join the next set, and wandered off in search of refreshment.

* * * *

After two energetic dances, Miss Marchant left her partner and went to find her godmother. As she pushed her way through the crowded rooms, she came upon Mr Lagallan. He was talking to a willowy young lady in a gown of celestial blue. Eustacia hesitated, not wanting to intrude, but even as she began to turn away she heard Mr Lagallan addressing her, and she turned back, smiling.

‘Pray, do not let me interrupt you.’

‘No, no, we were just talking of you.’ Mr Lagallan’s dark eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘You know Miss Pensford, I believe?’

‘Of course, we are neighbours,’ the tall young lady affirmed, turning her blue eyes upon Miss Marchant. ‘How do you do, Eustacia? I had no idea you would be in Town.’

‘N-no. My godmama invited me, at short notice.’

Miss Pensford’s gaze rested on Eustacia’s flushed countenance.

‘You are heated from your dancing. How thoughtless of me to keep you standing here. Perhaps Mr Lagallan would procure some lemonade for us?’

Vivyan bowed. ‘Of course. I will leave you two ladies to enjoy a little gossip!’

Smiling, Miss Pensford linked her arm with Eustacia’s and led her to an empty sofa.

‘I wish you had written to tell me you were in Town, we could have met earlier.’

‘It - it was very much a surprise when Godmama invited me to join her, it was very unexpected.’ That much at least is true, thought Eustacia. ‘But what of you, Helen? I thought you were to remain at Combe Charlton until the New Year.’

‘And so we were, but - circumstances changed.’ A faint blush suffused Miss Pensford’s pale cheek. ‘Papa decided we had been in deep mourning long enough — it was not a very close relative, after all - and we have lived very retired at Combe Charlton these past months. Mama is not yet wearing colours, of course, but she thought it would not be unseemly to bring me to Town. Of course, we shall only attend a few select parties.’ Remembering the press of people in every room, Eustacia thought privately that Lady Trentham’s ball could scarcely be considered a
select
party. Miss Pensford’s gaze rested again upon Eustacia. ‘How is it you know Mr Lagallan?’

‘Oh, his - his sister-in-law, Mrs Philip Lagallan, escorted me to town.’ Eustacia held her breath, but her answer seemed to satisfy her companion, who merely smiled.

‘He is very agreeable, is he not?’

‘I — I hardly know him,’ muttered Eustacia, feeling very uncomfortable.

Miss Pensford’s smile grew. ‘We met last season, and when we stood up together everyone said what a handsome couple we made.’ She lowered her voice, leaning closer to her companion. ‘He visited Papa at Combe Charlton a few weeks ago, and we came to an
understanding.
Nothing has been announced, of course, for Papa thought it would be best to wait a little while, for we do not wish to offend our dear cousin’s family by appearing to cut short our mourning, but still, I am sure it must be all over the county by now, so I can see no harm in you knowing.’