The Meridian Gamble (29 page)

Roland looks off, over the crowd of
dancers and partygoers, and his eyes find the handsome, dark-haired man. And
the stranger looks back, connecting their gaze. And for a brief moment, it
feels unsettling somehow, that something passes between them.

I can see the handsome man leave
the party to walk out toward the garden, where Marjorie went.

Within moments, the music starts
again, and Roland offers me his hand. Though I am exhausted, the joy of being
near him and the excitement of being able to openly enjoy his company empower
me, and we begin dancing once more.

Soon after, I see my sister walk
back into the party on the arm of the brunette stranger. By some magic, she is
smiling, and they begin to dance.

Immediately, Gregory Lawlor’s face
flashes anger toward the couple, which makes Marjorie smile even more widely.
And I cannot help but to smile too.

“Who is that man dancing with
Marjorie?”

“That is my brother, Adam,” Roland
says. “So rude of me, I should have introduced him sooner. But you will meet
them all soon enough.”

And I realize I know so little
about his family.

And I wonder exactly how flighty
Marjorie is. Because already, she seems to have forgotten about Gregory Lawlor.
She seems truly happy to be with this new young man.

“How fortunate he has asked her to
dance. Her spirits already seem to be lifting.”

“It is more than just good fortune.
I asked him to dance with her.”

“When was this?” I say.

Was I right? Did some unspoken
communication pass between them?

“When we were preparing for
tonight’s event. I assumed she might be a bit upset, to see her younger sister
marry first, as uncharitable toward her as that might sound. And he is a very
charming young man. I asked him to help lift her spirits, if the need arose.”

“You were exactly right,” I say,
filled with wonder. “That was quite kind of you.”

And I smile. In this moment, I know
that Roland is truly magical, to have anticipated my needs before they were
even spoken. Truly, he is a blessing.

As perfect as this moment is, to
see Marjorie happy and Gregory Lawlor annoyed, to be dancing with the love of
my life, I cannot help but to feel a pang of discontent to watch his brother,
Adam, dancing with my sister. And I am not sure what it is. It most certainly
cannot be jealousy, because I wish for nothing more than for her to find a love
of her own.

And when he looks over at me again,
I feel a chill. Because I know him from somewhere, I have heard the name
before. But from where? Have I seen him at another party? Have my friends
gossiped about him?

Looking up at Roland, I realize the
obvious, that he seems familiar to me in the same way, that perhaps we have all
met somewhere before this. Which makes no sense. But I know it will come back
to me, and I will come to understand the nature of these feelings.

But for now, the night is a
wondrous occasion which I will remember for the rest of my life. The only thing
on which I need to dwell is the pleasantness of my dance with Roland and the
newfound joy he will undoubtedly bring into my life. And perhaps the greatest
happiness of all that he has brought me is knowing that my family’s fortunes
are restored, and that only good luck and contentment seem to lie on the
horizon for us all.

It is several days later, after my
debut at the Admiral’s Ball, and Father seems happy as we all sit at the
breakfast table. He is a transformed man, and I don’t need anyone to tell me
that it is because his business is back on track. Even Marjorie seems to have
recovered from the announcement of Gregory Lawlor’s marriage. She spent the
night on the arm of one eligible bachelor after another, twirling about the
dance floor, though I am sure she still feels a quiet longing for her true
love.

And I, of course, am daydreaming
about Roland. He has been forced to take a short trip to Ireland, to attend to
company matters. Already, I am experiencing what it is like to be an important
businessman’s wife, and I long to be with him again. I have asked Mother to
expedite our wedding in any way that she possibly can, and she seems receptive
to the idea, even though extensive arrangements must be made for the event. But
in the meantime, I am left to wait.

As we eat, our maid, Cecily, enters
the room carrying a card. I am surprised, as the girl knows better than to
interrupt our morning meal, and Mother scowls at her.

“I am sorry, Madame. But it is from
le Bennett family. I thought that perhaps it was important.”

Marjorie takes it from her.

“It looks like an invitation.”

“Well, at the very least let
Caroline open it. He is her fiancée, after all,” Mother says.

My sister hands it to me with a
scowl on her face, and I tear open the envelope. There is, in fact, a card. And
a note from Roland inside.

“It is an invitation. The Bennetts
are throwing a party. They wish to present themselves to London society before
our engagement celebration.”

What I don’t tell them about is
Roland’s message to me. He sends regrets that he won’t be able to see me before
the night of the party, and says that he eagerly awaits the moment when we are
together again. It, of course, makes my heart flutter.

“A party. That sounds absolutely
delightful,” Marjorie says.

“Of course, you will send an
acceptance on our behalf,” Mother tells me.

And I wonder
what it will be like, to finally meet my future family-to-be.

The night of the party quickly
arrives, and Roland sends a carriage for my family. But what pulls up to our
home is unexpected; a grand vehicle, drawn by six horses. It is jet black and
has decorative embellishments and curlicues carved into its side that are
golden in color. And for a moment, I suspect it is more than just paint, and
that the designs are made of actual gold.

From our position at the curb, you
can see the red velvet padding that lines the inside of the cabin, and Mother
raises her eyebrows, questioningly. I’m sure she finds it to be garish, but the
carriage is nonetheless impressive and most certainly expensive. She cannot
completely disapprove. The vehicle reminds me of something a storybook princess
would ride in, and once again, I feel as though I am living within a daydream.

Its extravagant nature impresses
Marjorie too. Her eyes expand to the size of saucers, and she leans toward me,
and whispers.

“This carriage looks like the one
the Queen rides in! It’s brand new! It must have cost a fortune.”

“Well, Roland’s family has just
moved back to England. It would only seem logical that they would need new
things.”

“If these are the sort of new
things that they buy, then you have done well for the family, indeed, sister,”
she says, full of glee.

We step inside, and begin our ride
into the heart of London. Madeline has not come with us tonight, as she was
feeling ill, but it does not seem to matter. Marjorie and I are suddenly fast
friends, more so than we have ever been in the past. The shock of Gregory
Lawlor’s engagement has quickly faded, and news of our company’s survival has
improved her prospects dramatically. She and Mother have been invited to one
tea party after another by respected matron’s across the city, all eager to
negotiate their sons’ marriage to my sister. And Marjorie has come to see me as
having value, a kind of perceived power from my connection to Roland’s wealth
and influence.

Yet, it makes me sad to think that
my sister has only learned to like me as part of a strategic alliance.

“Do you think Adam will be at the
party tonight?” she asks.

The mention of his name shocks me,
like a slap across the face.

“It is a family event. I imagine he
would be,” I say.

“I do hope he’s not away on
business,” she says, absentmindedly. “You should have sent Roland a card to
inquire. I would most like to see him again.”

“Why is that? I thought he did not
sway your heart.”

“That is not true,” Marjorie says,
filled with mock shock and dismay. “I would very much like to get to know him
better. Adam is quite handsome, and he seems to have an equally large share of
the family business. Perhaps, very soon, the Caldwells will have the entire
Bennett fortune in the palm of our hands!”

Marjorie rolls back her head and
laughs giddily, as Father smiles, pleased with her bright demeanor.

The thought of Marjorie seducing
Adam annoys me, though I’m not sure why. Is it envy, that her romantic
prospects no longer seem crushed, as they had once been? This cannot be, as I
have Roland, who is far more appealing than any of her suitors. But I’m not
quite sure what my strange feelings for his brother are. Roland gave us only
the most brief of introductions on the night of the Admiral’s Ball, and Adam
spent the rest of the evening dancing with all of the eligible women, along
with Marjorie. And Roland has been so loving to me, I could never so much as
look at another.

But then, what do I know of love? I
have been thrown into marriage at a young age, and have little experience with
romance, beyond the stories that have unfurled in my imagination.

I think my displeasure most likely
stems from the thought of seeing Adam’s life wasted on someone frivolous, like
my sister. But it seems best to put his fate out of my mind, as it is at best
tangential to mine.

Looking out the window, I expect to
see our carriage traversing one of London’s fashionable districts, and perhaps
spy the homes of some of my friends. But we seem to be directed toward the
water, an area that is downtrodden and dangerous. The dockyards are there, a
place where criminals dwell, a home to the lower classes. In fact, I can see a
hint of the water between the buildings we pass, and it makes no sense that we
would be headed this way.

Mother seems to notice too, and
looks to Father with questioning eyes. But he seems unperturbed.

“Where is it that we are going,
exactly?”

“Coventry Park.”

“Coventry Park? And the Bennetts
live there?” Mother asks, with a hint of dismay.

“They most certainly do.”

I am likewise shocked, and am
tempted to ask if the driver can turn back. Coventry Park is just west of the
dockyards, a place where scurrilous people dwell. And it is as bad if not
worse. It seems strange that Roland would even live there, and I cannot help
but to wonder if this is right.

“The Bennetts are an enterprising
family,” Father says. “They are buying up large parts of Coventry Park, and
intend to rehabilitate the area. Soon it will be one of the most fashionable
districts in all of London.”

“And as noble as that effort may
be, perhaps it would be best if we visited when their task is complete.”

“But it is too late,” Father says.
“We are already here.”

He chuckles, and it would seem our
beloved patriarch finds great amusement in his family’s discomfort. The
carriage slows to a stop and its driver quickly steps out. We tentatively
venture outside, and even the man who has driven us here seems to notice the
hesitation on our part.

“Don’t worry, young miss. You won’t
be bothered here. The locals wouldn’t dare.”

And he winks at me in a most
inappropriate manner, which I find unsettling. The driver is young and
handsome, far more so than most servants I have seen, with dark hair and a chin
that juts out with an appealing dimple at its end. He has gleaming white teeth
and seems healthy, unlike some of the working class, who tend to wheeze and
sputter. And I wonder what brought him to this low place in life. Even Marjorie
notices his appeal, and gives him a smile that she would normally reserve for a
gentleman of her class.

I try not to stare, but my eyes
dart back to the man with a will of their own. Beyond his pleasant features,
there is an odd gleam to his eye, and a certain sharpness of his teeth that I
find to be unnatural. And I have to force myself to look away.

Instead, I spy our surroundings,
and concerns over the driver quickly disappear from my mind.

We look up, and I know the others
are as dumbfounded as I am by the sight before our eyes. We have been brought
to a huge mansion, the likes of which Coventry Park has never seen before. Its
scale dwarfs even our own home. Huge white columns stand like sentinels
guarding its front, which has rows and rows of windows. The building looms high
before us, and I feel as though I am looking up the face of a cliff. A home
next to it is equally spectacular in scale, and next to that is an empty lot,
which is filled with carriages from the night’s event, far more than I would
have imagined. It would seem that the environs have not scared off any of the
other guests.

I am dumbfounded. This cannot be
the same Coventry Park we have heard spoken of before.

Father looks up at the manor and
beams, and Marjorie smiles in a way that shows she clearly approves.

“Did I not tell you the Bennetts
are developing Coventry Park? It will not be long before all of your friends
are fighting to live here.”

Yet, not all parts of the
neighborhood are quite so appealing. Sections of the block across the street
still lie in disrepair, and it gets worse the further you go. And when I peer
across the way, I can see the glowing eyes of questionable characters who lurk
in the shadows, just out of the reach of the street lamps. But the mansion
seems far more inviting than the area that surrounds us, especially at night,
and we quickly walk up its steps.

Father knocks on the front door. A
butler opens it for us, and we are confronted with another strange sight. The
servant holds a collection of masks that each rest on the end of a stick. They
are beautiful creations made of white porcelain and feathers, with decorations
of gold. And though we are confused as to their purpose, we each take one from
his hands.