The Chocolate Debutante (8 page)

There were many in the crowded ballroom who had heard of Susan but not yet seen her. Everyone simply stared, quite openly, many fumbling for their quizzing glasses to get a better look.

Charles Courtney led Susan into the first dance and Harriet found a seat behind some potted palms. Through the leaves she could catch glimpses of Susan and yet be partially screened and not feel obliged to make conversation. She was very surprised to find a young captain, therefore, bowing before her and asking her to dance. Feeling slightly startled, she accepted and joined a set for the quadrille just as the dance started. Harriet had been taught by an excellent dancing master but at first was frightened she might have forgotten the steps. However, she performed very well and found she was enjoying herself. The captain, when they were promenading after the dance, introduced himself as Captain Preston and, to Harriet’s surprise, escorted her back to her chair and went to fetch her a glass of lemonade. He had returned with it and one for himself and was drawing forward a chair to sit down next to Harriet, when Lord Dangerfield walked into the ballroom.

His eyes rested curiously on Harriet and her young gallant, and then he was lost to her view.

“You are the aunt of Miss Colville, London’s latest beauty, are you not?” asked the captain.

“Yes,” said Harriet with a sympathetic smile. She felt perfectly sure this captain was cultivating her company with a view to getting to know Susan. “I am very proud of her. She looks very well.”

Captain Preston’s eyes rested on Harriet’s face. “Such dazzlers make me feel uncomfortable. I would rather sit here with you and drink a toast to your beautiful emerald eyes.”

“Sir, you flatter me.”

“I tell only the truth. But I am not going to enjoy your company for very much longer. Here comes Lord Moulton.”

To Harriet’s increasing bewilderment, she was led off to dance the waltz by Lord Moulton, who she judged to be also much younger than herself. He was a tall, gangly young man, quite shy, who blushed furiously when he put his hand at her waist, and so Harriet, who had never danced the waltz with anyone but her dancing master, felt suddenly happy and confident. She could not believe she was actually dancing and having fun. She wondered who Susan’s current partner was. He was a dark-haired, swarthy man with wolfish good looks and he seemed to be keeping Susan well amused.

“Who is that man dancing with Miss Colville, my niece?” she asked Lord Moulton.

“Miss Colville is the beauty?”

“Yes.”

“That is Sir Thomas Jeynes.”

Dangerfield’s rival for the charms of Mrs. Palfrey!

“Is Mrs. Palfrey here?”

“You heard that old scandal? No. Mrs. Palfrey is invited some places but not here, for the Trowbridges are very high sticklers.”

At the end of the dance Lord Moulton asked if he might have the honor of the supper dance. Harriet hesitated a little. Perhaps Lord Dangerfield might have forgotten his invitation. But then she said, “No, I regret I cannot. I have already promised that dance to Lord Dangerfield.”

He bowed. “Perhaps we shall have another dance? And may I call on you?”

“Gladly,” said Harriet. He must be interested in Susan, of course. No sooner had he left than a middle-aged colonel solicited her hand for the next dance. Harriet was gratified but bewildered. With the exception of that supper dance, she had not expected to dance at all.

And then finally the supper dance was announced. For a few dreadful moments she thought the earl had forgotten, but suddenly he was at her side, smiling down at her and saying, “I claim my wager, Miss Tremayne.”

After they had performed the cotillion, he led her into the supper room. Susan, Harriet noticed, was being partnered by Charles Courtney. Nothing to worry about there.

“I believe,” said Lord Dangerfield, pulling out a chair for her, “that you truly did not expect to be a success yourself.”

“Most of my partners have been quite young,” said Harriet. “They all want to call, no doubt, to get to know Susan better.”

“Can you really underrate yourself so much? Did you not notice that few of your partners solicited Miss Colville for a dance?”

“Yes, but that is because they cannot get near her. I notice you yourself have not managed to secure a dance with her.”

“I did not even try,” he said, his eyes dancing. “I prefer to admire Griselda from afar.”

“When did Griselda, your Griselda, die?”

“What on earth gave you the idea she was dead?”

“When I pointed out to you that you were pining over a dead girl, you did not correct me.”

“Ah, that is because she is dead to me.”

“But she is not dead?”

“No, she married a worthy squire and has ten children.”

“Ten!”

“It is not unusual.”

“And has all this childbearing marred her looks?”

“Sadly. She is very fat and quite weatherbeaten.”

“Why weatherbeaten?”

“She lives on the Yorkshire moors. Everyone who lives on the Yorkshire moors becomes weatherbeaten.”

“My lord, I have a sudden feeling that you are lying to me, that this Griselda is a figment of your imagination.”

He drew a small miniature out of his pocket. “Cruel Miss Tremayne! There is my Griselda.”

Harriet studied the miniature. A beautiful girl, very like Susan, and wearing a blue gown, smiled up at her.

“Why did she turn you down in favor of a mere squire?”

“Alas, I was sent to the wars with my regiment, and when I returned, she was already married.”

“And Susan reminds you of her?” asked Harriet nervously.

“To a certain extent. But my Griselda did not have Miss Colville’s amazing capacity for chocolates. But enough of my love life. What of yours?”

“Mine? My lord, I am a lady of independent means who has foresworn that side of life.”

“That I cannot believe.” His gaze fell to the whiteness of her breasts exposed by the low neckline of her gown. “That stylish gown of yours is the envy of every lady, particularly the poor debutantes who are forced to wear white.”

“Ah, but it was designed for me by the dressmaker with the help of Lady Dancer.”

“But you wear your new clothes with ease. Confess, unbend a little, you are enjoying frivolous society.”

Harriet gave a reluctant laugh. “Yes, I am.”

“And you will enjoy it even more if you eat something.”

They ate in silence for a few moments.

Then Harriet said, “I note that Sir Thomas Jeynes danced with Susan.”

“You have been listening to scandal.”

“And when we were at Hyde Park toll yesterday, was that…?”

“Miss Tremayne, I would much rather talk about us.”

“But what is there to talk about?”

He sighed sentimentally and put his hand on his heart with a theatrical gesture. “We have built up memories, you and I. There is the meal we shared at the inn, the books we read, tea in the garden in Chelsea. Do you not feel us drawing closer together?”

“My lord,” said Harriet, her color high, “I am unaccustomed to flirtation, and you are embarrassing me.”

“I am not flirting. I tell only the truth, and concentrate on me and stop peering down the table at Miss Colville. She is safe with Courtney.”

Susan had eaten a hearty meal and was enjoying a floating island pudding. But her beautiful eyes were fixed on a centerpiece. It was made of toffee, marzipan, and spun sugar. It was King Arthur’s castle, complete with the knights of the round table and Queen Guinevere. The candlelight shone on the purity of the sugar. Susan’s mouth watered. “When do they serve that?” she said, and it was as well that Harriet’s attention was being engaged by Lord Dangerfield, for Susan rudely pointed at the centerpiece with her fork.

Charles Courtney laughed. “I have never known the Trowbridges to serve any of their famous centerpieces. It is my belief that they do not like to ruin it. It is there only for show.”

Susan pouted. “I want some.”

Charles blushed. He signaled to a footman and whispered, “The young lady wishes some of the centerpiece.”

The footman bowed and moved away. Susan gave Charles such a radiant smile that he felt he could die for her. But when the footman returned and murmured that the centerpiece was only for show, Charles felt miserable. “I am afraid that’s that,” he said to Susan. “I am so sorry.”

“
I
think it’s silly,” said Susan moodily. “It’s all made of sweet things, and what’s the point of it if it cannot be eaten? Why does she not just have it made of plaster of Paris?”

“I do not know,” said Charles miserably, wishing he had the courage to stand up, walk over to the creation, and cut a piece of it. And just a moment before, he had been sure he could die for her, and yet he could not stand up to his hostess over a confection.

Susan took her resentment about King Arthur’s castle back to the ballroom. Her hand was claimed for the waltz by Sir Thomas Jeynes. He tried to flirt with her, but those blue eyes only looked vaguely up at him.

“Is something troubling you?” he asked.

“Yes, it is,” said Susan forthrightly. “That wonderful King Arthur’s castle is
not for eating
! Pooh, it is so ridiculous. I would have loved a piece.”

“It is well known that the marchioness likes to display the confectioner’s art without serving any. Did you not have enough to eat?”

“No,” said Susan bluntly. “I asked nice Mr. Courtney to try to get me a piece, but he could not.”

“You should not ask callow youths to help you.”

“Meaning you can?” Her eyes sparkled.

“After this dance, instead of joining the promenade, we will repair to the dining room and you may eat your fill.”

“And what will the marchioness say?”

“She will not be there.”

“Perhaps King Arthur’s castle has been removed?”

“I doubt it. Most of the servants leave to have their own supper.”

“And you are not afraid of abetting me in such a venture?”

“I am afraid of nothing.”

As soon as the last strains of the waltz died away, they walked together to the dining room.

There was no one else there. Sir Thomas gave his wolfish grin and waved an expansive arm toward the castle.

“All yours, dear lady.”

He expected it to be a sort of girlish prank. Miss Colville would eat one of the little figures and giggle a bit at her temerity and then they would return to the ballroom before their absence had been remarked on.

But Susan pulled forward a chair and sat down in front of the castle and rubbed her little hands. She carefully lifted up Sir Lancelot and ate him. “Delicious,” she murmured.

Sir Thomas watched amazed as little figure after little figure disappeared into that rosebud mouth. It was when Susan began on the battlements that he became worried. “I think we should return,” he said.

Susan paid him not the slightest bit of attention. Sir Thomas strolled to the door of the dining room and looked out. He saw that although sets were forming for a quadrille, Susan’s aunt, Miss Tremayne, was saying something to that rat Dangerfield, and they were looking his way. He quickly reentered the ballroom and asked a young lady to dance.

“Where can she be?” Harriet was asking the earl. She turned to Charles Courtney, who was in the same set, and asked, “Have you seen my niece?”

“Not since supper.” Charles hesitated and then said in a rush, “I disappointed her dreadfully.”

“How so?”

“Miss Colville wished to taste the centerpiece, but it is for show only.”

Harriet turned to the earl. “You must forgive me, my lord. I must stop Susan.”

“The centerpiece?”

“Yes.”

“I will come with you.”

They walked together into the dining room.

“You have to admire an appetite like that,” declared the earl.

There was very little of the centerpiece left.

Susan was dreamily shoving a little drawbridge into her mouth when Harriet walked up to her.

“Susan! How could you be such a pig? How could you disgrace yourself so thoroughly?”

Susan smiled angelically at them. “It was for eating.”

Harriet took out a handkerchief and dipped it into a jug of water, and taking Susan’s face firmly by the chin, scrubbed all the sugar crumbs from it.

Then she looked at the earl. “There will be an outcry when this is discovered. What am I to do?”

“Take Miss Colville back to the ballroom immediately. Go along. I will think of something.”

Harriet hustled Susan off. The earl looked about him. Then he saw that the fire in the large fireplace at the end of the room was burning low but the embers were hot. He lifted the remains of the centerpiece on its base and thrust the whole thing into the glowing embers. When it had started to burn, he took several logs from the log basket and piled them on top. Better it should have disappeared entirely than be found to have been eaten.