Читать книгу Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 53

Katherine started nervously as the clock struck the half-hour, to be followed by a tap on the door. ‘It is only me!’ Lady Fanny called coyly.

‘Urn …’

‘I had better let her in,’ Jenny said, rolling her eyes heavenwards as she went to open the door. ‘You’ll have to go down some time, you know.’

‘I know.’ Katherine took a steadying breath and stood up as her chaperon fluttered in. Lady Fanny was wearing a surprisingly elegant, if subdued, gown of dove-coloured silk and a headdress that clearly proclaimed by its ruching and feathers that she was amongst the chaperons and dowagers for the evening.

‘My dear Katherine!’ She stopped in the middle of the room and threw up her hands. ‘Oh, my goodness!’

‘Is something wrong?’ She should have known—something was unsuitable, or insufficiently elegant or …

‘You look ravishing, Katherine, positively ravishing. Oh, to be twenty again.’

‘Thank you, although I have to confess to being rather more than twenty.’ Cheered, Katherine managed to smile despite the cloud of butterflies in her stomach. ‘Your gown is lovely, Lady Fanny.’

The spinster patted the silken folds tenderly. ‘I have to confess to a weakness for evening gowns and treat myself to a new one every year.! She made it sound as though she were revealing a serious addiction to gaming. ‘But truly, my dear, that gown is quite inspired. Is it only from a Newcastle modiste?’

‘Yes, one Nicholas recommended.’ Katherine began to pull on her long kid gloves, holding out her arms in turn for Jenny to fiddle her way down the row of tiny pearl buttons.

‘Well, I never.’ Lady Fanny looked positively roguish. ‘Of course, he would know all the most fashionable establishments.’ She fluttered a little under Katherine’s startled gaze. ‘You must know he was quite the rake as a young man—so good looking too, although I have to confess he has grown even more so. All the girls were after him, and not just the respectable ones, if you follow me. Still, he sobered up when he fell for that Somersham chit—not that that lasted long when Cousin Lionel came to hear of it. Still, that is all in the past now and here he is home to become respectable again.’ She beamed happily, apparently forgetful of Katherine’s ambiguous position in Nicholas’s redemption.

‘Why was she so unsuitable, the Somersham girl?’ she asked curiously.

Lady Fanny shrugged. ‘The family was well to do enough, but not good ton, you understand—gentlemen farmers for the most part. And her father was always in and out of debt; apparently a fatal tendency to gaming of all kinds.’ She handed Katherine her reticule and twitched her own skirts into order. ‘Now, where did I put my fan? Oh, yes, here it is. A very pretty child though, Annabelle, or Arabella, I cannot recall exactly. Big blue eyes, golden curls and she always looked helpless. Men seem to like that.’

There was plenty in that to digest, Katherine thought grimly as Jenny fussed round her. ‘Will you come back up after dinner, Miss Katherine?’

‘Yes, thank you, Jenny,’ she agreed absently. So, the Duke had disliked an alliance with the daughter of a gamester and had disapproved of a girl from a gentry family. That could be me, if one substitutes brother for father, she acknowledged. It was as she had known all along, her instinct that this marriage could not stand was well founded. But this evening I am not going to remember that and I am going to make very certain that Nick is going to recall more about a brown-eyed, practical lady than he does about a blue-eyed helpless one.

‘Shall we go down?’ she suggested, following one step behind her chaperon as an unmarried girl should.

Nick was standing in the Crimson Salon, the main reception room that led into the larger of the dining rooms, parrying the questions, subtle and not so subtle, that old acquaintances, neighbours and almost-forgotten friends were asking.

It was not an easy task to reveal very little while at the same time not creating an air of mystery that would provoke even more gossip.

‘Yes, indeed, Lady Jarvis, I have to confess to fighting as a common trooper; a most instructive experience.’

‘Brave man,’ the dowager barked, rapping him painfully on the forearm with her fan. ‘Eccentric, but at least you weren’t gadding about like so many young officers seem to. At Waterloo, were you? Bad affair that, for all that we won. What does the Duke say about it, eh?’

‘I believe he would agree with you in categorising my behaviour as eccentric, ma’am.’ Nick smiled and passed on to greet another guest.

‘Lady Fanny Craven, Miss Cunningham,’ the footman announced as Nick turned to look at the door. At first he did not see her; several of Fanny’s old friends had turned too and moved to greet her.

Then the space between him and the doorway cleared. There was Kat and he was back in the Assistant Governor’s office in Newgate with the force of that first impression catching the breath in his throat. And as he had seen then, she was beautiful. Huge brown eyes, wide cheekbones tapering to a pointed chin, a mass of dark blonde hair caught up into elaborate coils in a gilt net—lovely, terrified, brave.

He doubted anyone else could see the fear she was controlling so firmly, but he knew his Kat. At least, he corrected, staring at the slender figure in its exquisitely simple gown, he knew several Kats, but not this one. Not this poised, lovely young lady who was following her chaperon obediently over to greet his father. He had seen a cheetah once: beautiful, sleek, apparently passive to its handler’s leash, until it had stood up and walked towards him with a grace that spoke eloquently of its power and its danger.

It was not the domestic cat, the docile single miss that she was pretending to be that he saw, but a strong, resolute, unconventional wild version. Could anyone else see it? He glanced around and met Robert’s startled look.

His brother edged over. ‘Is my mouth open?’ he hissed.

‘No,’ Nick assured him. ‘Not now. Spectacular, is she not?’

Robert’s low whistle was answer enough. ‘I’m off to ask her for the first waltz.’

‘You can’t have it, and neither can I. We cannot risk drawing attention to her by neglecting our duty dances in her favour. We will both have to wait until after supper. Stay here, it will not do for both of us to descend on her the moment she appears.’

Nick strolled off, following a meandering path through the chatting guests until he appeared, as if by chance, where Katherine was being introduced by Lady Fanny to the Gun-ton sisters. They broke off, wide eyed, and curtsied to him.

‘Lord Seaton.’

‘Miss Gunton, Miss Amelie, good evening. I hope you had a safe journey over the moors? I see Cousin Fanny has introduced you to her friend Miss Cunningham.’

Kat turned to him with calm composure and dropped a slight curtsy. ‘Good evening, Lord Seaton.’

God, but she was lovely. Her skin looked like milk against the soft primrose of the gown; the crystal beads in her bodice shimmered with the rise and fall of her breathing and the subtle scent of lily of the valley and fern rose from her warmth. ‘Ladies, if you would excuse us, I have been asked to introduce Miss Cunningham to Lady Foxe.’

‘Why?’ Kat hissed as he took her arm and steered her back across the room.

‘Because I wanted to talk to you. Lady Foxe is not even here yet.’ He bowed to a small knot of gusts talking animatedly and strolled on. ‘You look breathtaking, Kat.’ He let his fingers caress the crook of her arm where he held her and felt her shiver.

‘Thank you, but it is this lovely gown. I am sorry I was ungracious about it.’

‘Kat, you would look lovely in a sack. The gown simply shows off the loveliness that it sheathes.’ He watched her blush, saw the pearl eardrops tremble and wondered how he was managing not to bend down and nibble the delicate lobe it was suspended from.

‘You should not be spending time with me.’ She sounded anxious and he saw she was watching his father, alive for any sign of disapproval.

‘I know. I will leave you here with Mr Crace. Kat, I cannot dance with you until later, after supper. Keep your card free after then.’

She smiled, a genuinely amused flash of humour. ‘I do not think that humble Miss Cunningham is going to have any problem doing that, Lord Seaton.’

Nick smiled too, at her ridiculous modesty. Was she really unaware that male eyes were following her from all corners of the room? And this was simply the fifty dinner guests.

‘Mr Crace, might I leave Miss Cunningham in your care? I believe you will be taking her in to dinner.’ He freed her arm and turned away abruptly, suddenly all too conscious that if he did not, he was going to find it impossible to leave her side.

‘Miss Cunningham, may an old man be permitted to say that you are in great beauty tonight?’ Katherine was startled out of the breathless state Nick’s sudden appearance, and as sudden departure, had left her in by the archivist’s gallant observation.

‘Why, thank you, sir.’ The tubby little man beamed at her.

‘Now, who can I introduce you to, I wonder?’ he mused. ‘Not the young men, they will find you quite of their own accord.’ He chuckled. ‘Let me see … ah, yes, Lady Laithwaite and her daughters. Charming girls, and not so plain that they will mind your company,’ he added wickedly. ‘Over here.’

Katherine accompanied him, reminding herself that this avuncular figure was also his Grace’s lawyer and therefore perfectly au fait with her scandalous secret. The whole scene was quite unreal, she felt, glancing round to find Nick. There he was, talking to an uncommonly handsome young lady with copper-red hair and a very lovely bosom. Which she is displaying to good advantage, Katherine thought cattily, reluctantly admiring the graceful shoulders and daringly low neckline displayed.

‘Who is that?’ she whispered to Mr Crace, who appeared to have lost sight of his quarry. ‘The tall, red-headed lady talking to Lord Seaton.’

‘Lady Camilla Wilde. A striking young lady, is she not? Niece and heiress of old Lord Polkington. Dotes on her and intends to dower her royally, they say.’

Katherine was saved from any further questions that might have revealed the jealous pangs she was experiencing by Heron throwing open the double doors into the dining room and announcing, ‘Dinner is served, your Grace!’

As a single girl, Katherine found herself midway down the table, Mr Crace on one side and on the other the handsome young man she and Jenny had spied from the bedroom widow. Mr Crace introduced him.

‘Mr Roderick Graham, Miss Cunningham. Mr Graham is a cousin of the Bishop of Durham.’

Close to, Mr Graham proved every bit as personable and attractive as the glimpse from the window had suggested. Katherine soon found herself engrossed in conversation with him about his recent impressions of London which, as a native of Edinburgh, he had visited this year for the first time.

‘I have only just returned, in fact,’ he explained. ‘My cousin was good enough to offer me his hospitality at the Bishop’s Palace for the summer. It is already proving as interesting an experience as my visit to London.’

‘Is it truly a palace?’ Katherine enquired. Mr Graham had explained that as a younger son he had been studying law and she gathered that his home was far more modest than that of his exalted relative.

‘Indeed it is,’ he agreed, smiling, ‘although not so deserving of the name as this edifice.’

‘I know,’ she replied with feeling. ‘I keep getting lost and I suspect that our entire London home would fit easily into this room.’

His speaking look around them encompassed the soaring ceilings, the mirrored walls, the length of silver-laden mahogany and Heron with his army of footmen, and was so comical that Katherine laughed.

As she did so, her eyes found Nick’s at the far end of the table. His brows rose, apparently in reaction to her animation. Good, the little voice of mischief whispered. Let him see me having a good time. She turned back to Mr Graham.

‘Have you lived in London all your life?’ he asked, listening attentively as she explained how they had moved from the country and how she and Philip had been left alone on the deaths of their parents.

‘My brother is travelling abroad at present,’ she explained. ‘Which is why I find myself here. Lady Fanny has been so kind,’ she added, telescoping events ruthlessly to give the impression her chaperon had invited her to stay. ‘What did you do in London, Mr Graham? Did you find society to your taste?’

‘I did not mix in very exalted circles,’ he admitted. ‘But I had secured some introductions and had a most pleasant time. I enjoyed visiting galleries and the museums as well, and attended scientific lectures. Out of professional interest I attended several trials at the Law Courts. I even went so far as to attend a public hanging at Newgate.’

‘You did?’ Katherine enquired faintly.

‘Yes. A most barbaric spectacle,’ the young lawyer said severely. ‘I was soon regretting my error of judgment in being there, but the crowds was so vast that I found myself effectively trapped.’

‘Horrible.’

‘Your sensitivity does you credit, Miss Cunningham. However, my ill-judged expedition did allow me to witness a most remarkable event: one felon was actually hanged and then cut down at the last moment and pronounced innocent—’ He broke off, looking alarmed, ‘Miss Cunningham, ma’am—please take a sip of wine. I do beg your pardon, it was most thoughtless of me to speak of such matters to a lady.

Katherine was faintly aware of him pressing a glass into her hand and took a distracted sip. ‘Thank you, no, please do not concern yourself, Mr Graham, I am quite all right.’ The dizziness passed. No one else around seemed to have noticed the blood leaching from her face or the slight sway she had given that so alarmed Mr Graham. No one, she realised, except Nick, who from half the table’s length away was watching her with a frown. He had put down his knife and fork and his palms were flat on the table as though he were about to rise. She shook her head slightly, saw him relax, and turned back to her concerned neighbour.

‘It was nothing to do with the topic, Mr Graham,’ she fibbed, the eyes of the hanged felon in question seeming to bore through her. ‘I was just feeling a little faint with the heat. I have to confess to being more than a little nervous this evening. I think that your feelings on such spectacles as you describe do you credit, and no one should shrink from discussing such barbarity. How else can we see things improved?’

The passion with which she spoke appeared to make an impression upon the young lawyer and she was startled by the warmth of his regard as he said, low-voiced, ‘I would like to discuss other matters of public policy with you, Miss Cunningham, if such things are of concern to you.’

‘But certainly, Mr Graham. However, if you will excuse me, I must not neglect Mr Crace.’

She turned to the archivist with a worrying feeling that she had perhaps over-encouraged Mr Graham’s interest. The rest of the meal passed uneventfully, even when, with the last remove, conversation became general and she found herself speaking to him again. With relief Katherine told herself that she was imagining things, only to have her hand pressed warmly as the ladies rose to leave the table.

‘I hope you will save some dances for me, Miss Cunningham.’

‘Of course, sir, I would be delighted.’ She smiled up at him and turned to find herself, once again, the focus of Nick’s attention. Or, to be more accurate, it was Mr Graham’s hand, just releasing hers, that seemed to be attracting his interest. Katherine smiled serenely, deliberately not meeting Nick’s eyes as she followed her chaperon out.

Instead of congregating in a withdrawing room, the ladies at once dispersed to their rooms and the attentions of their maids to repair whatever ravages dinner in a warm room had wrought.

Jenny, dabbing Katherine’s temples with cologne and whisking a hare’s foot dipped in rice powder over her face, professed herself satisfied. ‘It’s a mercy you don’t get all flushed up with the heat like some ladies,’ she said chattily, checking hairpins and patting Katherine’s glossy coils of hair into place. ‘I’ll be in the ladies’ retiring room all evening in case you need me.’

‘Are you sure?’ Katherine queried, concerned. ‘There will be maids on hand, and you have worked so hard all day. Have you had any dinner yet?’

‘Yes, thank you, Miss Katherine. But I am not going to miss this for all the world! And I am certainly not going to risk you not looking your best all night either. Now then, fan, reticule, dance card.’ She tied the card by its ribbon to Katherine’s wrist and checked that the little pencil was sharp. ‘I’ll wager it is full already, is it not?’

‘Mr Graham, that handsome gentleman we saw from the window, has asked me to dance,’ Katherine admitted.

‘Now that’ll make his lordship jealous,’ Jenny concluded smugly.

Katherine was guiltily aware that those were her sentiments too, so she could hardly reprimand Jenny for repeating them. ‘Mr Graham was in London and attended the hangings at Newgate,’ she said, sombre now that shock was recalled.

‘No!’ Jenny sat down on the edge of the bed with a thump. ‘Did he recognise you?’

‘Oh, no. I think there would be no danger of that. All eyes were on the hanged man, I am sure, and the Assistant Governor held me back. But it is a disturbing coincidence, is it not? Thank goodness Lord Seaton’s beard had grown, else he could hardly fail to be recognised.’

‘Has his neck healed?’ Jenny asked. ‘Is there still a scar?’

‘I have no idea,’ Katherine said with dignity. Even the other day when she had burst into his dressing room, disconcerting the tailors, Nick had an immaculate neckcloth in place. He would have to take great care for quite a while, she surmised, wondering what he had told his new valet.

The reappearance of Lady Fanny instantly ended all conversation on dangerous topics and Katherine once more found herself descending the stairs in her chaperon’s wake.

‘I do hope I have the duties of my charge right,’ Lady Fanny confided as they entered the ballroom, bypassing the receiving line where those not resident or dining were being greeted. ‘I have never been a chaperon before, you know.’ She looked anxious. ‘Should I perhaps have warned you about not dancing more than twice with any gentleman? And not drinking champagne?’

‘I expect so,’ Katherine said gravely. ‘And I think you should also warn me that you must give your approval before I waltz, that I must not romp during country dances and I must not go out on to the terrace unless you are with me.’

‘There, you know it all as well as I do,’ Lady Fanny said gaily, unfurling her fan. ‘Now, let us sit over there next to Mrs Cartwright—the general’s wife, you know—and their daughters. Such a nice family—’ She broke off with the approach of Mr Graham.

‘Ma’am, I have come hoping to solicit the favour of a dance with Miss Cunningham, if you will permit.’

Lady Fanny beamed. This was her idea of a well set-up young gentleman. ‘Of course, sir.’

‘Miss Cunningham? Might I hope for a waltz?’

Katherine received an encouraging nod and opened her empty dance card. ‘The choice is yours, Mr Graham.’

‘The first?’ He took her nod for assent and carefully wrote his name in the tiny space. ‘And a cotillion?’ Again he wrote, then bowed and effaced himself.

To her surprise, Katherine found her card filled rapidly, although she kept the latter part free, mindful of Nick’s words. Still, it seemed odd. He could not, obeying convention, ask her for more than two dances, nor could Robert.

The ballroom filled up rapidly, the band ceased playing light airs, paused to retune and then Katherine realised that the Duke with his sons had entered, were taking partners and sets were forming for the opening cotillion.

Nick, she felt predictably, was leading out the eligible redhead; Robert was with a middle-aged lady who was chatting to him in animated fashion and the Duke, looking extremely distinguished, had offered his hand to a formidably handsome lady.

‘Baroness van Elvestein,’ Mr Crace murmured, arriving to lead her out. ‘The ambassador’s wife. Now, this set appears to have a space for us.’

Soon Katherine was lost in the magic of the ball. It was not so terrifying after all, she soon realised. True, the setting was magnificent, the tone lofty, the company distinguished, but she had the satisfaction, regularly reinforced by compliments and admiring glances, of knowing that she looked well. Her upbringing and natural charm stood her in good stead with even the highest sticklers amongst the grande dames she encountered, and her full dance card was most gratifying.

The first waltz was next, she realised, glancing round from her position seated meekly beside Lady Fanny. She need not have worried, Mr Graham was at her side, bowing punctiliously to Lady Fanny before taking her charge by the hand and leading her out.

‘I am not a very experienced waltzer,’ Katherine confided, her cheeks slightly warm with the daring pressure of his hand at her waist.

‘What a relief! Neither am I,’ Roderick Graham admitted. ‘We will just take it carefully and hope your toes will be safe.’

In the event it was a pleasure. Mr Graham had a natural sense of rhythm and was too considerate to try any fancy steps, so Katherine circled the dance floor feeling perfectly at ease.

Mr Graham’s new-found expertise was not, however, up to timing his movements so as to deliver Katherine neatly back in front of her chaperon as the music stopped and they found themselves on the far side of the floor.

‘Do not worry,’ Katherine reassured him as he apologised for them having to circle back. ‘I was intending to sit this country dance out in any case.’

‘Miss Cunningham.’ It was Nick, firmly in front of them and looking, to Katherine’s appreciative, and somewhat nervous eye, distinctly saturnine.