virtually impossible to withdraw politely, Dorothea and the even more reluctant Ferdie were forced to accept the change with suitable grace.
At the pleasure gardens Lady Rothwell had hired a booth facing the dancing area, gaily lit with festoons of coloured lanterns. The younger folk joined in the dancing, while Dorothea and Ferdie stayed in the booth, watching the passing scene. Lady Rothwell sat keeping a shrewd and motherly eye on all her young charges.
Dorothea had heard that Hazelmere was expected to have returned that day. Speculation on their next meeting was consuming more and more of her time. Glancing at her pensive face, Ferdie recalled his cousin’s message. He could hardly deliver it in Lady Rothwell’s hearing. ‘Would you like to view the Fairy Fountain, Miss Darent?’
Dorothea had no wish to view the Fairy Fountain but thought it odd that Ferdie should imagine she would. Then she caught the faintest inclination of his head, and, intrigued, agreed. Lady Rothwell made no demur to their projected stroll and Dorothea left the booth on Ferdie’s arm. Once out of sight and sound of her ladyship, she lost no time. ‘What is it you wish to tell me, Ferdie?’
Thinking she had a bad habit of making it difficult to lead up to things by degrees, Ferdie answered baldly, ‘Met Hazelmere this afternoon. Gave me a message for you.’
‘Oh?’ she replied, bridling.
Not liking the tone of that syllable and fast coming to the conclusion he should have told his high-handed cousin to deliver his own messages, Ferdie was forced to continue. ‘Said to tell you he would call on you tomorrow morning.’
‘I see. What a pity I shall miss him! I do believe I have to visit some friends tomorrow morning.’
‘Told him so.’ Ferdie nodded sagely. Under Dorothea’s bemused gaze, he hurriedly explained, ‘Told him you would very likely be engaged.’
‘And?’
Liking his role less and less, Ferdie took a deep breath and continued manfully, ‘He said to say you would do better to meet him in private rather than in public.’
The undisguised threat left Dorothea speechless. Seeing her kindling eyes, Ferdie decided it was time to return to safer and more populated surroundings than the secluded walk they had entered. ‘Take you back to her ladyship,’ he volunteered.
Seething, Dorothea allowed him to take her arm and they retraced their steps. She was incensed. More than that, she was
Shortly after Dorothea and Ferdie had left, Lady Rothwell was joined by Cecily, thoroughly enjoying herself, accompanied by Lord Rothwell. Noticing Cecily’s high colour, her ladyship sent her son for some ices from the pavilion. Cecily sat down beside her and was in the middle of a delighted description of the sights when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
At her ladyship’s command, an individual in attire proclaiming the respectable gentleman’s gentleman entered the booth.
‘Lady Rothwell?’
‘Yes?’
‘I have an urgent message for Miss Cecily Darent.’ The man proffered a sealed letter.
At a nod from Lady Rothwell, Cecily took it, broke the seal and spread open the single sheet. Reading it, she paled. Reaching the end, she sat down weakly in the chair, allowing her ladyship to remove the letter from suddenly nerveless fingers.
‘Good heavens!’ exclaimed Lady Rothwell, quickly perusing the missive. ‘My dear, I’m so sorry!’
‘I must go to him,’ said Cecily. ‘Where’s my cloak?’
‘Don’t you think you should wait for Dorothea and Ferdie?’
‘Oh, no! They might be half an hour or more! Surely there can be no impropriety? I must not delay. Oh, please, Lady Rothwell, please say I may go?’
Her ladyship was not proof against Cecily’s huge pansy eyes. But it was with definite misgiving that she watched her disappear down the walk to the carriage gate in the company of Lord Fanshawe’s man.
Ten minutes later Ferdie and Dorothea regained the booth. Lady Rothwell had sent her son away and was trying to rid herself of a strong suspicion that she had erred in allowing Cecily to leave. She looked up with relief.
‘Oh, Ferdie! I’m so glad to see you. And you too, my dear. Cecily received a most disturbing message and has gone off with Lord Fanshawe’s man.’
Neither Ferdie nor Dorothea understood much of this, but, seeing the letter her ladyship was holding out, Ferdie took it.
To Miss Cecily Darent,
I am writing on behalf of Lord Fanshawe, who is currently in my surgery, having sustained serious wounds in a recent accident. His lordship is in a bad way and is asking for you. I am sending this note by the hand of his servant and I hope if he finds you you will allow this individual, who his lordship assures me is trustworthy, to escort you to his lordship’s side. I need hardly add that time is of the essence.
Yours, et cetera,
James Harten, Surgeon.
‘Oh, dear!’ said Dorothea.
‘Gammon!’ said Ferdie.
‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Dorothea.
‘This letter,’ he explained. ‘It’s a hoax.’
‘But how do you know?’ wailed Lady Rothwell.
‘Because I know it’s Alvanley’s dinner tonight and then they always go on to White’s. Every year, always the same. So wherever Tony is, Marc’s with him. Bound to be. And Marc would never allow this. You may not know, but I do. Devilishly starchy on some things, Hazelmere.’
Dorothea, knowing this to be the truth, gave voice to her thoughts. ‘But if it is a hoax, to what purpose?’
Ferdie realised they had all made a mistake in forgetting there were two Darent sisters. Dorothea and Lady Rothwell were obviously expecting him to answer. ‘Sorry to have to say this, but I’m afraid she’s been abducted.’
‘I knew there was something wrong,’ wailed her ladyship. ‘Oh, dear! Whatever shall I tell Hermione?’
‘Ferdie, what should we do?’ asked Dorothea, wasting no time in histrionics.
Ferdie, whose brain could, under stress, perform quite creditably, paused for a moment. ‘Who else knew of this letter?’
‘No one,’ answered Lady Rothwell. ‘William was out getting ices at the time and I didn’t like to show it to him.’
‘Good. Dorothea and I will leave and return to Merion House. If any demand or message is sent, that’s where it’ll be. Lady Rothwell, you’ll have to tell everyone Dorothea was feeling unwell and that Cecily and I took her home.’
Her ladyship, reviewing this plan, approved. ‘Yes, very well. And Dorothea, tell Hermione I’ll keep silent about this. I feel responsible for letting Cecily go and I dread to think what your grandmother will think of me, my dear.’
Nodding, Dorothea murmured thanks and reassurances before she and Ferdie left for the carriages.
In spite of the coachman’s best efforts, the journey to Cavendish Square took twenty tense minutes. Admitted to Merion House by a surprised Mellow, they found, as suspected, a recently delivered letter addressed to Dorothea. Lady Merion was attending a card party at Miss Berry’s and would not be home for hours.
Ushering Dorothea into the drawing-room and shutting the door on Mellow, Ferdie nodded to the letter. ‘Best open it. Have to know what they want.’
Dorothea broke the cheap seal and read the contents of the single sheet, Ferdie looking over her shoulder.
My dear Miss Darent,
