He thought he saw her smile a little in the darkness. ‘Oh, I have no chaperon to take care of me,’ she said, with bitter amusement, ‘but I thank you for your concern, sir.’
Simon stared at her through the darkness. Her words suggested that she was married or worse-better?-that she was a Cyprian who had attended the masquerade in the hope of attracting a rich protector. It was scarcely unknown, but Simon’s whole being rejected the idea. She neither spoke nor acted like a courtesan and she had had every opportunity to try to engage his interest earlier, yet she had made no push to do so. Nor, indeed, had she encouraged the drunken overtures of Lord Hewetson, whom he had just seen off…
‘Who are you?’ Simon asked abruptly. ‘You must be here as part of a party, you must have some protection! Let me escort you back inside-’
‘I thank you, but no.’ The girl’s voice was low but firm. There was some kind of accent that gave it an added charm, elusive but very sweet. ‘You misunderstand me, sir. I am quite alone, but I have no need of your escort. Please excuse me…’ And she walked away, her footsteps fading away across the stone terrace.
Simon followed more slowly, determined to keep her within view and puzzling over what she had said. He had completely forgotten his intention of finding Jane and Sophia and escorting them home.
The girl could be seen hurrying along the edge of the ballroom towards the main door, her torn domino flapping behind her. She kept the hood up, held closely about her face, but her long silver-gilt hair streamed behind her. For the first time Simon reflected that she might have told him the literal truth when she had said that she was attending the ball alone. If so, she
A scream pierced the air. Startled, Simon saw that the girl had checked in the doorway, restrained by the clutching hands of the Duchess of Merrion. The girl was pulling in one direction and the Duchess in the other, and they were making a comic spectacle of themselves. The Duchess was still screaming.
‘My dress! She’s wearing my dress!’
Everybody was staring. The Duchess had a very loud and penetrating voice. Simon tried to push his way through the gathering crowd.
‘Dear ma’am, there must be some mistake-’ he heard the girl say as she tried to prise herself free. Her hood had fallen back and strands of the silver fair hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her face was thin with high cheekbones, like a drawing from a fairy story. She still had her mask on and behind it her eyes shone with a blue fire. Simon stared, completely bewitched.
The old Duchess clung tighter. ‘Mistake! I promised a fortune to Celestine for that dress! The only one, she said! It was to be delivered tomorrow! Where did you get it from? Who are you?’
With a gasp the girl wrenched herself free and ran into the hall. Her jade green domino slid from her shoulders and crumpled on the floor.
‘Stop her, she’s stealing my dress!’ The Duchess shrieked, completely over-excited. For a moment no one moved, then a babble of conversation broke out, but no one made any move after the girl.
‘Kitchen maid tricked up in her mistress’ dress…’ someone said.
‘Dashed pretty girl…’
‘Any old riff-raff at these events…’
People began to move away. Simon bent to pick up the discarded jade green domino. A faint sweet scent still clung to its folds, immediately evocative of its wearer. Simon was astonished to feel desire stirring in him. He knew that he had to find her. Whoever she was, he had to see her again.
Chapter Six
The trouble with the Season, Jane thought, as she prepared for yet another evening’s entertainment, was that it gave one so little time to think and plan. She could well believe Miss Brantledge’s smug assertion that she had attended fifty balls, twenty-six dinners and fourteen picnics the previous year. Miss Brantledge would be sure to have counted every one. And since the object of the entire exercise appeared to be to wear oneself to a thread as well as find a husband, Jane could see that it worked very well. However, the social demands gave her no chance to develop her scheme for avoiding the marriage with Lord Philip. Jane snapped her fan together sharply in frustration, causing one of the struts to splinter. That evening they were to be the guests of the Duke of Delahaye for a concert at Vauxhall Gardens. Jane’s natural pleasure in visiting so exciting a place was tempered by the thought of close chaperonage and the embarrassment of being in Alex’s company for the first time since the masquerade.
The memory of that evening a week ago was still disturbing to Jane. She had promised herself that she would think of it no more, but she could not help herself. There had been a moment, there in the darkened study, when Jane had been sure Alex was about to kiss her. The look in his eyes, compounded of exasperation and tenderness, had held her rooted to the spot. And she had wanted him to kiss her, had quite ached to be in his arms, with a desperation that puzzled and worried her. Surely it was not at all refined to be subject to such strong feelings? The mutual respect and comfort she had hoped to find one day in marriage were pale and cold in comparison.
Yet evidently Alex had not felt the same. He had had plenty of opportunities to seek her out in the past week- even if it was only to ring a peal over her for her conduct-and he had not chosen to do so. Clearly she had read far more into his behaviour than he had ever intended; the flirtation that she had found so exciting had no doubt seemed tame to him, a diversion quickly forgotten. It was shaming now to remember how his touch had stirred her senses and how much pleasure she had taken in his company.
Besides, Alex was now too occupied with the odious Lady Dennery to have a moment’s thought for Jane. The whole of society was talking about them; they had been seen driving in the Park and Alex squired her to any number of events. Sighing, Jane tried to fix the splintered struts of her fan together again, then cast it away in exasperation. No doubt Lady Dennery would be there that evening and the prospect did not entice.
In one respect only were matters shaping quite well. Lord Philip and Sophia were clearly smitten with each other and therefore quite willing to give Jane as much tacit support as she needed. It only required for her to suggest that she and Sophia exchange partners for a dance, or escorts for a walk, and the substitution was accomplished. However, this could not be achieved as often as Jane would wish under Lady Verey’s beady gaze. She was obliged to endure several tedious dances with Lord Philip during which he spoke in monosyllables, if at all. Jane decided that she would soon need to seek his more active participation in her plans.
They approached Vauxhall by river that evening and the gardens looked remarkably pretty in the fading dusk, with their lantern-lit walks and arbours. Jane thought that it looked very romantic and her sense of humour was tickled at the thought of their ill-assorted party. Lord Philip and Sophia were surely the only true romantics in the group and even if Lord Philip’s intentions were of the purest, he could not declare them openly. Lady Dennery was hunting Alexander Delahaye with a single-minded concentration that had very little to do with romance, as far as Jane could see. Simon seemed forlorn and quiet, and she herself felt quite out of step with the brightly coloured illusion all around.
The concert and the supper were both excellent, despite Lady Dennery’s somewhat sharp asides.
‘What charming children!’ she had said to Lady Verey when first introduced, for all the world, Jane thought, as though she and Sophia were still in leading-reins! Lady Dennery then took it upon herself to intersperse intimate little remarks to Alex with observations on the conduct of young ladies, until Jane was heartily sick of her.
‘Why, Miss Verey, you have a most robust appetite!’ she said archly, picking at her dessert and smiling at Alex. ‘You will find that the gentlemen prefer young ladies who show less partiality for their food! No doubt Lord Philip will bear me out!’
Philip, who had been gazing soulfully at Sophia and had not heard the comment, grunted non-committally. Jane’s cheeks flamed. Lady Dennery’s laugh tinkled out as her sharp gaze appraised Jane’s neat figure. ‘Lud, Miss Verey, I think you should restrain yourself now! Over-indulgence at the table is often a sign of a sadly unsteady character! There is no knowing where such a lack of discipline will lead you later!’
Lady Verey and Lady Eleanor exchanged a horrified look at such vulgarity. Fortunately Jane and Sophia were both looking quite blank, for neither of them had taken her ladyship’s coarse allusion. Simon, catching his mother’s eye, got up and suggested a short stroll in the interval before the concert resumed. He offered his arm to Sophia and in short order Jane and Lord Philip had joined them. The others declined the exercise, making Jane almost burst
