Vintage Love (154 page)

Dora, surveying herself with a smile as Fanny worked at the buttons, said, “They say the Prince is charming and a ladies’ man.”

“You should soon know, miss,” Fanny said.

“I have seen likenesses of him. I would not call him handsome by our standards but he has a noble look and a regal bearing, I’m told.”

“Is he returning to India soon?”

“Yes,” Dora said. “His father is ill. He may soon to be the Maharajah and his friendship is important to the British East India Company. Otherwise you can be sure the Marquis would not go to all this fuss.”

Fanny finished and stood back. “There! You look ever so nice, miss!”

“Thank you, Fanny,” Dora said, smiling at her. “You must look in on the party tonight.”

“I shall be serving,” she said. “And then later some of the other maids and I will watch from the balcony where we won’t be seen.”

Dora stood up. “Believe me, you’re lovely enough to be a guest. And you speak so nicely. You really shouldn’t be a servant.”

Fanny said, “You mustn’t be deceived by my speech, miss. I have very ordinary origins. I’m in my proper station in life.”

Dora placed an arm around her. “My dear Fanny, my origins were no more notable than your own until the Marquis adopted me!”

“But you do have his blood.”

“So little of it he would like to see me marry one of his sons,” Dora said with a wry look.

Fanny was surprised. “Truly?”

“Yes. You mustn’t whisper a word of it to anyone else. But the Marquis thinks I’d make a fine wife for a minister. And I can’t abide that awful Kenneth! He’s such a prig!”

“I agree!”

Dora’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “I wouldn’t mind being his daughter-in-law if he encouraged a match between George and me.”

“The Viscount!”

“Yes,” Dora said. “He’s the pick of the three. I’m very fond of him.”

“What about Captain Charles?” Fanny ventured.

Dora shrugged. “He’s not like Kenneth. He has a good nature. But he lacks George’s brilliance and charm.”

Fanny smiled a little sadly. “I quite agree with you, miss.”

“So you have been taken with him too!” Dora exclaimed with delight.

Fanny smiled ruefully. “He’s the hero to every maid and scullery girl in the house. No denying the Viscount is the favorite.”

“I’m sure of that,” Dora said. And then confidentially, “Of course, the Marquis is playing politics again, even with the lives of those dear to him. He’s deeply anxious for George to marry Virginia Andrews, the daughter of Sir Matthew Andrews.”

Fanny found herself feeling shocked, as she had not heard of this before. She said. “Is she apt to make him a good wife?”

“She’s pretty enough,” Dora said. “But that’s about all. She is flighty and shallow! The sort who flirts with every man at a party but cares for none of them. She only cares for herself.”

“It doesn’t sound promising,” Fanny suggested.

“It’s a shame,” Dora sighed. “And the worst part of it is that Virginia just might entice George into marrying her!”

“I hope not,” Fanny said, surprised at how strongly she felt on the subject.

“So do I,” Dora said as she prepared to go down to the party.

• • •

The ballroom of the great mansion was filled. Fanny was doubling as a serving girl. She went to the kitchen where she hastily donned an apron and different cap and then, equipped with a tray of dainties, went up to the ballroom to serve the guests.

At one end of the room an orchestra was playing. The notables, including the Marquis, the Indian Prince Aran and Dora and Viscount George stood at the other end of the great room receiving the guests as they came. There were red and blue uniforms resplendent with gold braid and bands, in contrast to the more soberly hued formal coats of civilians and the ladies in flowing gowns of every shade of the rainbow.

Conversation was loud and animated. The Prince, in native costume of pale salmon-colored silk and a turban in the same shade, was the center of attention. He was a young man with a short black beard. His eyes were black and sharp in his narrow brown face and his nose rather pointed. He was not truly handsome by Western standards, yet he had a certain quality about him.

Fanny did not take her tray to him as the group were still receiving. But she found herself blushing as his glance fixed on her and his eyes seemed to follow her about the room. Her tray was empty and she was about to go downstairs when a hand caught her by the arm. She turned to see that it was Viscount George.

The young man guided her to an alcove off the ballroom and whispered intensely, “I must have a word with you!”

Startled by the sudden display of interest the young Viscount was showing in her, she looked up at him and asked, “What is it, sir?”

The handsome George smiled. “You’re trembling, Fanny. There is no need to be alarmed.”

The music was playing in the background and she felt that all the eyes of the elegant ladies and gentlemen must be upon them. She said, “I have my duties, sir. We’re ever so busy. You are keeping me back!”

He still kept her cornered in the alcove as he told her, “You’ll do no more serving this night!”

“What do you mean?”

“Prince Aran has taken an interest in you, which does not surprise me since he is a keen admirer of feminine charm,” George told her.

Her cheeks crimsoned more deeply. She recalled that the guest of honor had been rather greedily following her with his keen, black eyes. She said, “I’m much flattered. But I still have my work to do.”

“No, listen,” the young Viscount said. “Seeing his interest in you I told him of your talent for song and dance. And he has requested that you be included in the entertainment which is to begin in a few minutes.”

Her pretty face showed distress. “Oh, sir! You shouldn’t have said anything!”

“Too late now,” George said cheerfully. “Better make up your mind to put on your act for all of us.”

Becoming more uncomfortable as the moments passed, Fanny protested, “I can’t, sir! The Marquis would surely not approve of it. Nor would my cousin, Lily.”

“I can’t answer for your cousin Lily,” the amused George said. “But I can assure you my father is quite in favor of it. I have come here to make my request with his permission. You see, catering to the Prince ranks above everything else.”

She glanced beyond him at the crowded ballroom and told him, “I’d never manage! I’d be bound to faint!”

“We’ll take that chance,” George said. “I want you to put on your best dress and then take your place by the platform. When the time comes I will introduce you.”

“Must I? Please let me be free of it!” she begged him.

Staring at her George saw she was in earnest. “By Jove, you are the modest one!” he exclaimed. “But there is no way out of it now! The Prince is thin-skinned, easily annoyed. My father must encourage his every whim!”

“I have no proper dress!” she wailed.

“Never mind,” George told her. “I’ll fetch Dora and she’ll fit you into a gown of hers. You’re the same size!”

“Miss Dora!” Fanny said in dismay. “I can’t ask to wear her dress!”

“I’ll take care of it,” the Viscount promised.

And he did. Within the space of a few minutes she found herself whisked upstairs again in Dora’s company and with the help of one of the other maids being fitted into a fine yellow silk gown.

Dora stood back and studied her. “You do look really splendid, Fanny. We’ll just fix that flaming red hair a little. I feel sure that is what attracted the Prince’s attention. Dark haired girls are no novelty to him, so I’m quite out of the running!”

Fanny was almost in tears as she stood there with the two of them fussing over her. “And I’m quite out of my depth!” she said ruefully. “I shall make a proper fool of myself before all those people!”

“Nonsense!” Dora said as she expertly pinned Fanny’s hair on top of her head, allowing a few stray ringlets to escape in studied artlessness. “George tells me he witnessed your dancing and singing and you were very good. And he says your ambition is to be an actress?”

“Yes,” Fanny admitted. “My father was on the stage.”

“So that is why!” the other girl said with interest. “Otherwise I would discourage it! But if you wish to be an actress you must learn to face all sorts of people. Be glad the Prince is charmed by you! Go down to the ballroom and when your turn comes do George and me proud!”

Fanny managed a forlorn smile. “Well, if you feel that way, miss.”

“I do!” Dora said. “You’ll never look prettier, will she, Peg?”

The little maid said, “You’re ever so lovely, Fanny! No one would know you was just a maid!”

“I know!” Fanny said grimly. “Well, if I have to face it I may as well get it over with!” And she picked up her skirt so as not to have the hem trailing the carpets and getting soiled.

“That’s the spirit!” Dora cried and escorted her out of the room to the stairway.

The concert part of the evening was already under way when Fanny came to stand in the anteroom just off the ballroom, as a stout soprano was singing some frantic, high-pitched song about the beauties of an English garden. It went on for what seemed to Fanny an endless time, with the elderly male pianist anxiously accompanying the soloist with great energy.

The plump singer ended on a fantastically high note on which her voice noticeably cracked. Not taken back by this, the woman bowed to the loud applause which followed, giving a slight curtsy in the direction of the Prince. Then she marched off grandly, followed by her accompanist clutching his music. They went past Fanny without noticing her.

George suddenly appeared with a mild-looking older man at his side. He said, “This is the pianist with the orchestra. You describe your song and how you sing it and he will accompany you.”

Fanny knew fresh despair. She told the pianist, “It’s a number Little Nell made famous, called The Dairy Maid and The Squire’.”

The pianist nodded. “You’re in luck! I know it! You set the tempo and I’ll follow along for both the song and dance!”

George’s eyes showed a merry twinkle. “So you see! All your problems are settled!” And he marched out to the ballroom while she remained in the ante-room with the pianist.

George was greeted by applause. He smiled and accepted the good-natured laughter and ovation. Raising a hand, he began to speak; “Thank you, dear friends! I fear I must disappoint you. I shall not be entertaining you this evening. But I do have a special treat and surprise for you—a mystery lady who does a most spirited imitation of the famous soubrette, Little Nell! I have seen this pretty young woman perform and I can promise you some exciting moments! And some entertaining ones!” He bowed again and with a smile on his face came to the door, gloved hand outstretched, and led Fanny out to the brightly lighted ballroom. There was a loud burst of applause from the guests at the other end of the room.

Once on the stage she lost her nervousness. All she could think of now was her song and dance. The pianist had taken his place and was looking in her direction. She nodded to him and he played a short introduction to the comedy song.

Fanny had gone through the performance so many times before that she was completely at ease. The piano background was a big help, especially when it came to the dance steps. She sang and grimaced like Little Nell and was heartened by hearing the audience laughing at the right times. When she ended her lively dance the staid group went wild! She had to return four or five times to bow and the applause only ended when the orchestra began to play.

The first to reach her in the anteroom and congratulate her was the young Viscount. He seized her by both hands and smilingly told her, “I was proud of you! And the Prince seemed to be enjoying himself for the first time this evening.”

“I’m glad I didn’t trip on my skirt and fall down,” she said.

“No chance of that!” George declared. “And I must say you look damnably pretty in that gown!”

“Borrowed finery,” Fanny protested. “I must get upstairs and take it off. I have to return to work. They’re short of servers!”

The handsome Viscount shook his head. “Not at all! You have done your work for the night. Now the Prince wishes to personally congratulate you. I’m to present you to him!”

“Please, I’d rather not,” she said, weakly.

“You must or the Prince will be offended,” George warned her. “Then father will be upset and there’ll be the Devil to pay!”

Her eyes widened with concern. “What can I say to him?”

“Just answer him as you would anyone,” he said. “You speak nicely. Just be your natural self!”

It was not an easy request. And when George brought her before the brown-skinned Prince Aran she felt herself weak at the knees. Only the fact George was at her side gave her the courage to carry on. She felt that everyone else in the place was watching and whispering.

Prince Aran’s black eyes fixed on her with the same hunger as before but now there was admiration in his face and manner as he said, “You are most talented, Miss Hastings, in addition to being a beauty!”

“Thank you,” she said. “It was only a vulgar, comic song, hardly suitable for a gentleman such as yourself.”

The Prince smiled. “Truly I have too little comic relief in my life. I’m too sober a fellow. Your amusing song was just what the evening needed.”

“You are most kind, Prince Aran,” she said, lowering her eyes.

The Prince went on, “Most people are so in awe of royalty they are inclined to overlook the fact that we have average tastes. Or else, they think that Indian royalty must be savages, to be entertained only by dancing girls or trained cheetahs. This might be true of my father, the Maharajah, but I have remained in this country long enough to have cultivated Western ways.”

George told her, “Prince Aran and I attended Oxford at the same time.”

Prince Aran nodded. “George understands me. He is my good friend. Soon I will be returning to our kingdom in the hills of India and I shall much miss all this.”

Fanny said, “It is to be hoped you return soon again, Your Highness.”

“That depends,” the Prince said. “My father is old and not at all well. If I succeed to his throne I shall not be so free to travel.”