The Landower Legacy (17 page)

“I shall do no such thing. I shall cower behind it until the moment I take it off.”

“How cruel! I grow more and more intrigued with every passing moment.” He had drawn me towards the garden wall. We leaned out, looking across the Park.

“What a beautiful night!” I said.

“I am finding it more delightful every moment.”

This was flirtation, I recognized. I quite enjoyed it, and I had to confess that I was finding the cavalier’s company very stimulating.

He said suddenly: “You are different … from the other girls.”

“Every human being is different from every other,” I replied. “That is one of the wonders of nature.”

“Is that so? I find a rather boring similarity in many of the young ladies I am called upon to escort.”

“Perhaps that is due to your own lack of vision.”

“I wish it could serve me better tonight. I should like to look behind the mask. Still, I intend to possess my soul in patience. I shall discover on the stroke of midnight when I am determined to be at your side.”

A faint tremor of uneasiness swept over me, but I dismissed it. It was early and I had not yet had the fun I intended to have this evening. I wondered fleetingly how Olivia was faring.

“You are a very mysterious lady,” he went on.

“Well, is not mystery the theme of this gathering? It is intriguing to talk with people and not know who they are. It should make one very cautious.”

“It is supposed to have the opposite effect of making us all careless, throwing off our inhibitions. What does it matter what I do tonight? No one will know who I am … until midnight.”

“Unless, like Cedric the Saxon, we make discoveries.”

“Oh, some are obvious. Did you see Marie Antoinette? I’d be ready to swear she is Lady Massingham. I thought to myself the lady has acquired a little avoirdupois—and after her stay in the Conciergerie! And the gentleman who is our host … who is he? It is harder to
guess who he is supposed to be than who he really is. Is it Dr. Johnson? Or Robespierre? Surely one should be able to tell the difference between these two gentlemen—but I’m dashed if I can. You dance divinely.”

“And you pay empty compliments. It is quite impossible to know how one dances in a crowd like this.”

“Please, dear enchanting Queen of Egypt, whisper your name.”

“It is against the rules.”

“Do you always obey rules?”

I hesitated. “Ah,” he said quickly. “You do not. You are a rebel. Just as I am. How far do you rebel against the laws of society?”

“You would not expect me to admit my indiscretions to you, would you?”

“Why not? I don’t know who you are, and do you know me?”

“One should never admit to indiscretions even to people one does not know.”

“Oh, you are very profound. Perhaps when you know me better

“Tonight I cannot be anyone but Cleopatra and you are Rupert of the Rhine.”

“I have a feeling that tonight is only a beginning.” He gripped my hand suddenly and brought his face close to mine. I was aware of light blue eyes glittering through the mask; they studied me intently.

“Dear Serpent of the Nile,” he said, “I have a feeling that you and I are going to know each other very well.” For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me and I half wanted him to. I was reckless on this night. I certainly was enjoying the world of romantic glamour into which Olivia had the right to enter, while I was an intruder.

He touched the necklace at my throat. “What a clever touch to bring your asp. I hope you don’t decide to carry your interpretation too far. Oh … I believe I have seen that asp before. It’s really rather unusual. I remember seeing it on the neck of a young lady. Ah … yes, I have it. It was Lady Jane Grey … in other words Moira Massingham. And you are not Moira Massingham, are you? A clue! You are a great friend of that young lady and she has lent you her necklace. Collusion, dear Queen. Conspiracy. Who is Miss Massingham’s friend of the moment? I fancied it was Miss Olivia Tressidor. I saw you come in together. I noticed you at once. In spite of your mask you looked excited, ready to enjoy every moment. None of that blase indifference which so many young ladies affect. You came in with Miss Olivia Tressidor when you were accosted by the crude Saxon. I was watching you, you know.”

I was growing more and more uneasy. I turned away from the Park. I said: “I believe they are serving supper in the dining room.”

“They are. Let me escort you.”

It was glittering and so exciting. I was amused and happy. I did not want the evening to end. I found my companion exhilarating, and the fact that I was afraid he would discover I had no right to be here only increased my enjoyment. What if he did discover? He would laugh, I was sure. He would never betray me. Not tonight perhaps. But later he would laugh over the incident with his friends.

We grew very merry. He told me I had chosen wisely for I was possessed of infinite variety. It was a pity all that beauty should be destroyed by a venomous snake.

“We are a tragic pair. Poor Rupert, you found disgrace … in Exeter, was it?”

“Your historical knowledge is greater than mine. You are gracious to have elevated me to the rank of Prince and commander when I entered this house as a humble cavalier.”

So the badinage continued.

I drank champagne and felt myself light-headed. We danced; we talked; he was at times earnest. He wanted us to be friends. “I await midnight with impatience,” he said, “and yet I don’t want the evening to end.”

I certainly was not looking forward to midnight when I should be in the carriage worrying about getting into the house unseen. Most surely I did not want the evening to be over; it had been one of the most exciting I had ever known, and I did not want to say goodbye to my companion.

Servants, presided over by a splendid gentleman in blue and gold livery, stood behind a table laden with dishes; duck and chicken sizzled over braziers. Cutlets of salmon were laid out on dishes garnished with watercress and cucumber; and there were patties containing all sorts of delicacies.

When we had been served we took our plates to one of the tables for two and there we ate and talked again.

He said: “Your eyes are green. I don’t remember ever seeing such green eyes before. You are a mystery woman. But soon I shall know. Do you realize that within an hour that mask will no longer hide your face.”

“Within an hour!”

“Dear Queen, it struck eleven some time ago.”

He was looking at me intently.

“Why are you so scared?” he asked.

“Scared? Of course I’m not scared. Why should I be?”

“You may have your reasons. Do you know, I am beginning to wonder if you should not have come as Cinderella. She was the lady who had to leave the ball before midnight, wasn’t she?”

I laughed, but I did not think my laughter was very convincing. Now I had to concern myself with planning my retreat, which was not going to be easy, for he was going to be very watchful.

“Let us dance,” he said. “Shall we go down to the garden?”

“No,” I said firmly, deciding it would be easier to escape from the crowded salon than from the garden.

There was a big clock in the salon. It had been decorated with flowers and put there for the occasion. It struck the hours and I could imagine the scene when it came to twelve.

It was now half-past eleven.

I looked about. I could see nothing of Olivia. Was she equally nervous? We danced. The hand was slowly creeping up. Twenty minutes to go. At ten minutes to twelve Thomas would be there waiting. I had to find Olivia if I could. She would certainly be there—perhaps she was crouching in the porch waiting for me already.

A quarter to.

I dared not wait any longer.

“I need a drink,” I said. “Could you get me a glass of champagne?”

“Are you bracing yourself for the revelation?” he asked.

“Perhaps. But please do get it for me.”

“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

The bar was in a corner of the salon. I had to be quick. I hurried through the crowd … down the staircase to the hall. The door was open and Olivia was in the porch.

“I thought you were never coming,” she whispered.

“It was difficult to get away.”

“Thomas is already there. Here.”

We ran. Thomas was opening the door of the carriage and we got in.

“All present and correct?” he said, laughing.

We started up. I lay back in the seat—relieved, yet deflated because it was now all over.

“What was it like?” asked Olivia.

“Wonderful. What did you think?”

“I’m glad it’s over.”

“Did you dance much?”

“Quite a bit.”

I said: “The salmon was delicious and the champagne …”

“You didn’t drink too much, did you?” she asked anxiously.

“What is too much? I only know that I felt light-headed and very excited and that it was the most wonderful evening of my life.”

“Here we are, ladies,” said Thomas.

Olivia said: “You’ll be all right. Rosie will be waiting to let you in at the back door.”

“It’s all arranged,” I replied. “Perfect strategy. This is an example of expert organization. It went without a hitch, I think, though I was pursued by a very inquisitive gentleman.”

“It’s not over yet,” warned Olivia. “I shall be on tenterhooks until you are out of the costume.”

Thomas alighted and went up the stairs to ring the bell.

The door opened and Olivia went in.

“Now we’re off,” he said.

In a few minutes we were at the mews and I was running across to the back door.

I stood in the shadows, waiting for Rosie. I waited. Nothing happened. Surely she would have come straightaway to let me in. That had been the plan. I began to feel cold, then a little anxious. What had gone wrong? Where was Rosie? What could I do, locked out of doors, dressed in this absurd costume?

Suddenly the door opened. But it was not Rosie who stood there. It was Olivia.

“I couldn’t get away before,” she whispered.

“Why? Where’s Rosie?”

“Come in quickly. I’ll have to make sure no one sees you.”

We made our perilous way to our bedroom. Olivia would not speak until we were there. She was pale and trembling.

“Something happened. Rosie isn’t here.”

“Where is she then?”

“I don’t know. One of the servants let me in. She didn’t know where Rosie was, so I had to come and open the door for you.”

“It’s most unlike Rosie to let us down.”

“I can’t understand it. She was so interested. Never mind. We’ll hear in time. You’d better get out of those things quickly. I shan’t feel safe until you do.”

It was an anticlimax to a wonderful evening. What had happened to Rosie? She had always seemed an unusual person. No one would have suspected she was a domestic servant when she went off on her evenings. There had always been a fear at the back of my mind that one day Rosie would leave us. I knew that several of the menservants eyed her with relish. She would marry, I was certain. Indeed I wondered sometimes if she had not done so already. There was a brooding speculation about her. Secrets in her eyes, little spurts of laughter—most of all when she came back from her evenings off.

There was nothing to do now but undress quickly. How sadly deflated I felt shorn of my royal garments. I was no longer an exciting woman, hiding behind a mask. I was myself—a girl, not yet “out,” insignificant, far removed from that fascinating woman I had believed myself to be a few hours before.

That man had fostered my belief. Rupert of the Rhine! I laughed to myself. I wondered who he was. Surely I should soon be brought out into society. I was only just turned seventeen, but it was time, as everyone said.

I slept little that night.

In the morning there was a certain tension in the household. I learned from one of the maids that Rosie had gone.

“Gone!” I cried. “Gone where?”

“That’s what we don’t know, Miss Caroline.”

“Didn’t she come home last night?”

“Well, Mrs. Terras said she did come in. She was the only one who saw her. She’s gone now though.”

“Gone without saying goodbye.”

“Looks like it. Her things has all gone … all her lovely clothes.” * It was incredible.

I was so taken aback that I tried to question Miss Bell. I doubt whether she would have told us had she known, but it was obvious that she was as much in the dark as the rest of us.

Our father had not gone to the bank that morning. The carriage had come round and been sent away. He was in his study—not to be disturbed.

There was a strange atmosphere throughout the house. But perhaps I imagined that as I was so sad because Rosie had gone.

I was in the schoolroom reading with Miss Bell—Olivia had come in and sat with us as she sometimes did—when there was a knock on the door and one of the servants entered holding a dozen red roses.