Valerie King (23 page)

When Robert went to Lady Sandifort’s sitting room to inform her there was to be a ball after all, he later reported to Lucy that she threw a ceramic vase at his head. Fortunately, he ducked and the vase shattered forthwith on the hearth.

 

 

At noon Lucy, Valmaston, and the family, save for Lady Sandifort, had gathered about Mr. Frome. Even Anne, with her puffy eyes, felt compelled to join in saying farewell. His new brown pony was harnessed to his caravan, he held the reins in check, and with a warm smile and twinkling gray eyes he set the horse in motion.

Lucy dabbed at her eyes more than once as the caravan lumbered across the uneven grass in the direction of the stables, which were not far. The party followed after him, the ladies waving kerchiefs, the gentlemen their hats. Only William, with his strong young legs, kept pace until the caravan left the stableyard entirely.

“I feel as though I have lost a very dear friend,” Hetty said, undoubtedly expressing the views of all.

Lucy could not credit he was gone. To some degree, she felt as though she had lost her father all over again. She supposed in that sense Mr. Frome had indeed been a parent to her in his many kind words and helpful suggestions. She would miss him, but as he said, he had more work to do, this time building a boat. Regardless, she felt it would be some time before her sadness would begin to abate.

 

 

That evening Anne and Alice walked down the stairs together, arm in arm. Lucy thought that never had a young lady recovered so completely as Anne. Though her eyes were still a trifle red-rimmed, she was in a glow of happiness, enhanced by the exquisite nature of her hair bearing its beaded band. She wore a gown of white silk covered in spangled gauze and pearls dangling from her ears and draped about her neck.

Alice was equally as pretty in her lavishly embroidered white muslin, but since her interest in the affair was not even half of her sister’s, she did not have the same sparkle in her eye. She did, however, evince a great deal of confidence, largely because she had performed quite well at the assemblies a fortnight prior.

Hetty led them to look at the garden where the orchestra had already assembled on a portion of the west lawn. As they stepped onto the terrace, the delicate strains of Mozart commenced, drifting with the soft evening currents. Lucy went with them, wanting to see just how the young ladies would respond to how beautifully Mr. Quarley and all the household servants had transformed the already pretty gardens into a wholly magical place.

Anne held her hands to her cheeks. “Why, it is like paradise!”

Hetty laughed. “I think the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens never looked so pretty.”

“I wonder how many Chinese lanterns there are and where did they come from?” Alice queried.

Hetty turned to Alice and smiled softly. “The lanterns were Valmaston’s notion. He had been to a fete at Lord Hurstborne’s in late June. He remembered that the garden had been lit in just this way and sent a servant to inquire if Hurstborne would permit us to make use of them. You see his generous answer before you.”

“We must write a note of appreciation,” Anne said, “for I vow I have never seen anything so lovely.”

“You may tell Lord Hurstborne as much when he arrives,” Hetty said. “I made certain Valmaston extended the invitation to your ball once I knew he meant to ask such a great favor of him. I received a missive the next day saying he meant to attend.”

The terrace had been arranged with small tables and chairs, not just for supper later but for viewing the dancing as well. On the lawn, a makeshift floor had been built of finely milled lumber and afterward sanded and rubbed with beeswax to a smooth sheen. A great number of chairs, tied festively with blue ribbons, lined the long floor, which Lucy thought appeared to be at least twenty yards in length.

In the distance, toward the maze, servants were setting up a row of flambeaux that when lit would lend a truly festive backdrop to the ball.

Alice said, “I think this might even be prettier than the ballroom.”

A few minutes later, dinner was served. Except for Lady Sandifort’s obvious absence, there was joyfulness in the air, of congratulation to the twins and of the pleasure of being together, that extended through every thread of conversation.

More than once, Lucy found Robert staring at her. She could only wonder at his thoughts, for he still had not spoken to her from his heart. She wondered if he ever would.

As the second remove appeared, and Lucy was sliding a fine piece of roast beef onto her plate, she noted that Alice and Henry opposite her were staring at the doorway and appeared rather shocked. Lucy realized Lady Sandifort must have finally arrived. She turned to look as well and promptly dropped the large serving spoon, which clattered first onto her plate, then banged against the side of her chair and finally landed on the floor. Even the footman did not at first move to retrieve it. Lucy could hardly blame him, for she did not know when she had seen such a disgraceful gown.

Scarlet
, she thought,
and more wicked than anything she had ever before witnessed.
The décolleté was so severe that Lucy touched her own bosom quite absently as though to make certain she was covered. There was nothing left to one’s imagination with regard to Lady Sandifort’s figure. The white undergown clung to her, a circumstance that led Lucy to believe she had actually dampened her gown!

“I see I have given you all a shock!” she cried out gaily. She extended her arms. “Do you not like . . . my gown?”

No one uttered a single word.

No one seemed to know what to say or even do.

Finally, Valmaston rose and approached her, offering his arm. “May I escort you to your seat?”

“Of course,” she said, though pouting a little. “I do hope you have not taken our little disagreement of last night too seriously?”

Valmaston smiled. “I cannot imagine to what you might be referring.”

“How very gentlemanly of you to say so.” As she sat down, she looked up at him. “I trust you mean to dance with me.”

“I have no other object in mind.”

She smiled happily. “Then I am content.” She turned to look at Robert and lifted a brow.

Lucy saw a hard light enter his eye and a very strong suspicion struck her in that moment, that Lady Sandifort was in pursuit of him and probably had been for a very long time! Of course! How much of her conduct, even of her remaining at Aldershaw, was explained in this moment! Even her desire to have Valmaston in the same house took on a new meaning. Worse was the realization that, since Lady Sandifort had power over Anne and Alice, the girls had undoubtedly been her principle choice of weapon in all her dealings with Robert. She thought back specifically to her original refusal to allow the come-out ball, how Lady Sandifort had cast Robert such a look! Lucy could recall it even now as though it was but yesterday, and yet that was so many weeks ago, nearly ten by now. She could only imagine just how many times she had threatened to do some injury to the girls in an attempt to gain control of Robert.

She glanced at the twins and saw that Anne was staring at her plate, her joy having dimmed greatly, but that Alice was regarding her stepmother rather speculatively. She was the first to resume eating.

“Have you seen the gardens, my lady?” Lucy asked. Because there was nothing to be done about Lady Sandifort in this moment, she chose instead to attempt to divert her attention. “Lord Hurstborne lent us a great number of Chinese lanterns. The entire lawn is in a glow.”

“How lovely,” she returned, but she sounded bitter. “And how clever that there is to be a ball after all. Was that your doing, Hetty?”

All eyes turned upon Hetty, who in turn lifted her chin. “Will I take credit for it? No, but I am certainly grateful that this miracle has been achieved for my sisters. In the end, I would say we all contributed.”

“Indeed, we did,” Henry cried. “I helped make the floor. I have never hammered so much in my life.”

“You did not!” Anne cried, laughing. “Oh, my dear Henry! How difficult it is to picture you with a hammer. A pen, yes, but a hammer, no!”

“I was never so sore,” he stated, rubbing his shoulder.

Alice, who sat next to him, said, “And I am very appreciative.”

“Anything for you, dearest,” Henry said, chucking her chin. “So, you are having your come-out ball at last. You are now officially grown and I daresay you will both be married quite soon.”

“Indeed, yes,” Lady Sandifort said. “I hope to see both the girls wed before they become spinsters like one particularly ridiculous female at this table whose name I need not mention.” She cast Hetty a darkling look over the rim of her glass of champagne.

Anne gasped. “How can you speak so?” The words were out before she could check them.

Lady Sandifort glared at her then ordered her wine glass to be refilled with champagne.

Lucy was afraid that her presence would dim the exuberance of the party, but save for this single arrow aimed at Hetty, Lady Sandifort apparently had chosen to be on her very best behavior. She especially offered more than one compliment to Robert and insisted upon keeping him company in the receiving line.

The guests started arriving at just past seven and since over two hundred had been invited, Anne and Alice remained with Robert and Lady Sandifort greeting all their guests for well over an hour. Once their duties were fulfilled, however, Henry graciously made it his purpose to keep Lady Sandifort entertained and away from the twins.

He found partners for her for dancing and more champagne for drinking, though Lucy knew he had no pleasure in it. “But at least,” he said, having sent Lady Sandifort onto the makeshift ballroom floor with an older gentleman who was obviously delighted to be dancing with her, “it is something I can do for my sisters so that they may enjoy the night.”

“You are a good brother,” Lucy said. She glanced at the doorway. “I see Lord Hurstborne has arrived.” Alice appeared to be engaged in conversation with him at present. She was speaking with him quite intently, as was her way, probably thanking him for the generous use of his lanterns. She watched the younger of the twins thinking that Robert had much to be proud of in the girls.

The most recent dance ended and Lucy felt a pressure on her elbow. She turned and saw that Robert had found her. “The next is a waltz. Remember your promise?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. She again thanked Henry for his sacrifice.

“What sacrifice?” Robert asked as he led her onto the floor.

“Have you not noticed?” she queried. “He has devoted himself to your stepmother nearly the entire evening thus far.”

He glanced at Henry and saw that he had indeed hurried to Lady Sandifort’s side and was even now wrapping her arm about his. “How very good of him. I ought to relieve him at some point.”

“I would not recommend it, for I have not failed to notice that you seem to be an object of hers as well, or am I mistaken?”

He was silent for a moment then said quietly, “Do I understand you to have apprehended my greatest difficulty at Aldershaw?”

“I do not know why I did not see it before, nor can I comprehend how you have borne her presence here.”

He sighed. “In that I had no choice.”

“No, I suppose you did not.”

The dancers assumed their positions. Robert took her hand in his and slipped his arm about her waist. Lucy felt very odd suddenly, as she so very often did when she drew close to Robert, even though this was merely a dance. She chuckled inwardly, for she recalled hearing that Lord Byron had once said the waltz was merely an excuse for hugging. Perhaps he was right, but a very fine excuse after all. She looked up into his eyes, the music began, and from that moment she knew herself to be completely and utterly lost.

Her concerns at Aldershaw were many, but they were forgotten. The quarrels she had had with Robert were too numerous to be counted, yet she could not recall even one to mind in this moment. Lady Sandifort’s worsening state should have been her primary object, instead she felt as though no such lady even existed. Up and back, round and round he moved her and turned her. All the while her gaze was fixed to his, and during those few minutes he was the only real part of her life. Everything else was a distant, faint memory.

Robert held Lucy’s gaze as though he was holding her soul. Even in the flickering light of the flambeaux he could see the sparkle of her eyes, that quality which best reflected how she confronted her world, wherever she happened to be. He was in awe of her, for she never seemed daunted and always contrived a solution, however creative, for any difficulty she encountered. The fact that he was dancing with her now was a perfect example of what she was able to accomplish with seemingly little effort. Here was not only a come-out ball for his sisters, something that had been previously forbidden them, but even with a fire that morning a veritable dream had been created in his own gardens.

“Thank you,” he murmured, twirling her round and round, up and back.

“For what?” she inquired, seeming surprised.

“For this ball, for tonight, for a garden full of people and dancing, and for the happiness of my sisters.”

“But I did so little,” she countered.

He could only smile. “Perhaps it appears that way to you, but you are undoubtedly unaware that it is your
joie de vivre
that has moved through this house so that, even in the face of a fire meant to ruin the ball, we are yet dancing.” He laughed.

Lucy felt her heart grab and hold. How she loved to see Robert laugh. He had been so dark, so serious in his obligations when she had first arrived in June, but now delight was in his eyes.

Perhaps it was the music, or the moon overhead, or the evening breeze that swept her skirts against Robert’s legs, or perhaps simply that she had known him since childhood, but Lucy acknowledged freely, at least within the confines of her own mind, just how much she loved Robert Sandifort.