A Particular Circumstance (13 page)

‘Why, Miss Grayson,’ Aurelia said with feigned sweetness. ‘I have not seen you since we visited the Bakers’ cottage. How are you?’ She didn’t wait for a reply but continued, ‘How fortunate to have met you. Perhaps dear Mr King would agree to us changing partners. Mrs West has decided not to have dance cards, so I hope you do not think it amiss if I solicit Mr King in the next country dance. You two are such old friends, I am sure you could spare him, dear Miss Grayson.’

Charlotte glanced quickly at Hugo Westbury and saw the same mocking smile that she had noticed before when they’d
encountered Aurelia Casterton. She struggled to contain her temper, but before she could think of a polite reply, Matthew smiled at Aurelia and said, ‘Of course you may solicit my hand in the next dance. I should be honoured, Miss Casterton. Miss Grayson and I are indeed such old friends she will hardly miss me. Your servant, Mr Westbury.’ He bowed to Charlotte and Hugo and, offering his arm to Aurelia, he led her away.

Charlotte stood rooted to the spot, absolutely outraged at Matthew’s uncharacteristic behaviour. She was still aware of Hugo’s quizzical gaze as she beat down the anger which was welling up in her and fought for control.

‘Should you care to dance, Miss Grayson?’ he asked gently. ‘Or should you prefer to walk on the terrace for a few minutes. It seems very warm in here.’

Charlotte watched Matthew attending Aurelia so
solicitously
and allowed Hugo to lead her into the dance. Their conversation was of necessity rather stilted and lacking in continuity as they parted for the different figures in the dance and then met with different partners, only to return once again to their set places.

At the end of it, by mutual consent, they moved over to the open doors where the light summer breeze cooled the air somewhat. The terrace was at that moment almost deserted as the musicians took a rest and guests drifted towards the supper room.

Hugo was aware of the tension about her and guessed that it had to do with her friendship for Matthew. He noted her shaking hands clasped tightly round the delicately painted fan and on an impulse he covered her hands with his own. He felt her instinctive resistance but at least she didn’t move away from him. Hugo Westbury was skilled in the art of seduction and knew how gently he had to proceed. He
studied
the shapely finger tips emerging so delicately from her evening gloves and he waited patiently for her to regain her calm.

Once, trading with some Portuguese merchants in Goa, Hugo had wandered down to the beach and had gazed at the myriad of seashells washed up on to the sands. The ones in particular which had caught his eye were of an opalescent pink, edged with pearly white. So like the perfectly formed nails on the ends of Miss Grayson’s elegant slim fingers, he thought. For all their delicacy, they were not weak or useless hands, but expressive and purposeful. He thought of the way she had so tenderly held the Bakers’ baby and of her gentleness with Lucy Baker. Very carefully, he parted each finger in turn and kissed it lightly. Then he raised his eyes to look into hers. ‘You have very beautiful hands, Miss Grayson,’ he said softly.

Suddenly, his gentle seduction was shattered when Charlotte snatched her hands from his. ‘How dare you, sir?’ she gasped.

He smiled slightly. He’d never imagined even the spirited Miss Grayson would be so indignant over such a trifle. So she wasn’t impervious to him after all. He stepped back a little and bowed politely.

‘I beg your pardon, Miss Grayson,’ he said. ‘I should not have taken such a liberty. Would you like to go into supper?’

He could feel that the hand she placed on his arm was still trembling, but his face remained blandly impassive as he escorted her silently to her mother and Kitty. Once they were in the supper room, he bowed and went across to greet Robert Thorpe and offer his felicitations on the betrothal. Charlotte had eaten very little dinner before coming out and had thought that she was more than prepared to do justice to the superb supper. Now, suddenly everything seemed to be
turning
to dust and ashes in her mouth. There was no sign of Matthew; she could only suppose that he was in the card room. She glanced covertly across at Hugo, who seemed to be laughingly trying to resist all solicitations from Robert Thorpe to join himself and Miss West at their table. There was still no sign of Matthew; perhaps he was no longer on speaking terms with her.

‘It would be a mistake,’ Hugo was saying disarmingly, ‘for a grumpy, confirmed bachelor such as myself to play the gooseberry on the eve of your betrothal celebration.’  

Both young people laughed and insisted, so eventually Hugo subsided gracefully into one of the vacant chairs, still smiling and protesting. It did not escape either Charlotte or her mama’s notice that Aurelia Casterton appeared suddenly, as if from nowhere, and slipped into one of the remaining chairs at Hugo’s side. Just as if it had been reserved for her, Charlotte thought bitterly, and pointedly ignored her. Almost immediately afterwards, Uncle Bertram, who had escorted Aurelia into the supper room but had paused to greet one of his friends, joined her. From time to time Charlotte caught Hugo’s eyes on her and refused to look away, but returned his regard steadily. It was obvious, she thought bitterly, that Aurelia Casterton was setting her cap at Hugo Westbury. Perhaps she was using Uncle Bertram to try to make Hugo jealous.  

And then, as though with deliberate insult, Hugo turned to Aurelia and gave her his devastatingly attractive smile and she, quite dazzled, gazed back at him adoringly. Charlotte and her mother both watched with interest as Aurelia
fluttered
her eyelashes and smiled demurely in response to all Hugo’s polite conversational overtures. Uncle Bertram appeared not to notice and instead engaged Ann West in conversation, but Charlotte was incensed at Hugo’s flirting.  

What a reprobate, she thought angrily and quite lost her appetite. Once the covers were removed and the hothouse fruits were produced, she merely toyed with a luscious peach and sipped her wine, furious with herself at letting the unpleasant Hugo Westbury affect her emotions like this.

Robert Thorpe’s cousin, Richard, begged to be allowed to join Mrs Grayson and her daughters and then Charlotte was able to exact some revenge on Hugo Westbury by flirting openly with a young man who was obviously already smitten by her beauty and eager to dance attendance on her, fetching
her chilled champagne cup, selecting dishes of sweetmeats, for her and begging earnestly for the pleasure of a dance with her after the interval. Charlotte was inclined to be gracious, bowing her beautiful head gracefully in acknowledgement of his admiration and thanking him prettily for every attention he paid her. Glancing under her lashes at Hugo Westbury, she was gratified to see that he had noticed her young admirer and the encouragement that she had given him and had forgotten his assumed pleasant, smiling expression, allowing a black scowl to dominate his handsome face. Flirting was not so difficult after all, she reflected, and it had certainly seemed to halt for the moment the effortless smiles that Mr Hugo Westbury had been bestowing on Miss Aurelia Casterton. Uncle Bertram now seized his opportunity and whisked Aurelia off for another dance. Charlotte accepted Richard Thorpe’s arm and they moved back to the ballroom. The musicians struck up and suddenly, feeling refreshed, the guests were ready to dance again and came out of the supper room in groups to take their places.

‘Would you care to dance, Miss Grayson?’ Richard asked humbly.

‘Thank you, sir,’ Charlotte said.

He was stiff with youthful nerves and embarrassment, but had been well schooled in the dance steps and didn’t hesitate or stumble. She smiled encouragingly at him and he seemed a little more at ease. As the dance progressed, they changed partners and to her surprise, she found herself taking Matthew’s hand as she moved down the set for the next figure.

He still seemed at odds with her, but as his fingers closed firmly around hers, he gave her his familiar open smile. ‘Well, Charlotte. I trust you’re feeling in a better humour now that you have had supper.’

‘Yes, Matthew. I … I am sorry I was so ungracious earlier.’

‘And I am sorry that I was not able to escort you to the party in person,’ he said.

And so they seemed to have patched up their
disagreement
, Charlotte thought, as they parted once more and the dance ended. Uncle Bertram begged for the pleasure of a dance with her and Charlotte was pleasantly surprised at how less pompous he was now that they were out on a social occasion. She’d noticed the attentions he’d been paying to Aurelia and it had given her food for thought. Although it is difficult to think of an uncle objectively, he was, she reflected, a good-looking man and not too old for matrimony. He was also very well dressed and an accomplished dancer. No wonder Mrs Casterton had been keen to have him on her guest list.

‘Shall you be staying to the end, Uncle Bertram?’ she asked, wondering if so countrified an entertainment as Ann’s betrothal ball would interest someone as sophisticated as he.

‘Of course,’ he replied heartily. As though reading the thoughts behind her question, he went on, ‘One can become very jaded with city life, my dear. The pleasures of one’s youth do not always satisfy a man’s deepest desires.’

‘Deepest desires, Uncle Bertram?’

‘Yes, Charlotte. There comes a time in a man’s life when the frivolous pleasures enjoyed by the
ton
begin to pall. A man wants substance. A settled home life … an established family… .’

‘A family, sir?’

‘Yes. Do not look so askance, Charlotte. You are still young. You still crave excitement. Balls. Pretty clothes. Romance, perhaps. But when you get to my age… .’

‘What then, Uncle?’

He laughed. ‘Stop encouraging me to speak like some old dodderer, niece. When you get to my age, even you will have calmed that fiery temper of yours, Charlotte, and you may long for the quiet haven of a happy marriage.’

‘Marriage, Uncle Bertram?’ And she gave him a mocking smile. ‘I shall only marry, sir, when I am too old to do anything else and am at my last prayers.’

‘We shall see,’ was all he said, as the dance ended.

She noticed that Hugo Westbury did not seem so
enamoured
of Aurelia Casterton that he could allow her to distract him from his interest in the card table. Mrs West had set up several card tables in a separate room, mainly for mature or married gentlemen, hoping that the younger and more
eligible
bachelors would offer their attentions to the young ladies. Hugo was aware of this, but had decided to avoid the
opportunity
to converse or socialize with any single young women, especially Charlotte Grayson. He had to admit to himself that he found her very attractive and was determined to keep up his cool manner with her. He set out to win as much of the modest stakes as he could and emerged from the card room an hour later, feeling pleased with himself, being several guineas in profit. He felt unaccountably furious to observe Miss Grayson in close embrace with Richard Thorpe, dancing the waltz, and turned away to address some civil remarks to Kitty, who was nervous of being asked by Andrew Preston and was sitting out this particular dance.

Hugo was not the only one to observe Charlotte and her partner. Matthew was also aware of her lively conversation and graceful movements. He sighed and sought out Kitty. In spite of her avoidance of the young curate, Kitty had not lacked for partners among the young men of the
neighbourhood
, who were only too willing to ask her for the pleasure of a dance. She was so sweet, so charming, her eyes so soft and gentle, and Matthew thought that the curves of her
girlish
figure were shown to advantage in her modest white gown. She was a good dancer, always keeping to the correct rhythm of the dance and never attempting to lead her
partner
, and as she placed her hand in his, Matthew was conscious of a feeling of satisfaction and the rightness of the two of them together as a couple. Soon, he completely forgot his disagreement with Charlotte in the pleasure of dancing with her sister.

It was half past midnight before the carriages were called and Hugo escorted the Grayson ladies from Mrs West’s triumphant soirée, Bertram having decided to make his own way home. Everyone agreed that it had been a great success and the whole occasion would be food for the gossips for weeks to come. After courteously handing the ladies in, Hugo remained sunk into his own corner of the carriage. Even Jane Grayson was silent and as for Charlotte, she was determined to press herself back into her own corner, resolving to offer no conversation, no intimacy towards a man who, she thought, found Aurelia Casterton’s person and her fortune so
irresistibly
attractive.

The truth was that Hugo was afraid to move too freely in case he should inadvertently come into contact with his
beautiful
companion. The overwhelming attraction that he felt for her should have been stifled long before, when she was displaying all her aggressive contrariness and when he still thought of her as a confounded nuisance. He realized now, especially when they’d been on the terrace and he’d captured her hands in his own, how strong the temptation had been to take her into his arms. To think that he could cold-heartedly entice Miss Grayson to develop a
tendre
for him while
remaining
cool and unmoved himself was the merest fairy tale, he told himself. Now that he recognized this, he regretted having spent the whole evening so far away from her and yet he had no intention of becoming involved with someone so forceful and opinionated, however beautiful she was.

If only Aurelia Casterton were so alluring, he thought. She was insipid and biddable and although she was rumoured to have £60,000 as her dowry, one would tire very quickly of such a moon-faced weakling. He sighed and stirred slightly in his seat, hoping that Charlotte wouldn’t notice his
restlessness
.

But Charlotte was only too aware of him. In the dim light of the carriage, she could see the outline of his head and shoulders and, as he glanced out of the opposite window, the
movement of his eyes. She refused to let herself think of the blueness of those blue eyes, their provocative humour and the intensity of his gaze when he’d kissed her fingers on Mrs West’s terrace.