Sir Philip Ryan came up to them soon, giving Edwina a longing look. Alastair was cold but correct. He knew the young fellow was still seeing Daphne Porter. He was no man for Edwina. Thank goodness Edwina had found another beau, a man she liked better. The beau, Ralph Hastings, soon discovered her and took her off to dance. He had no title, but Alastair had come to know and like him. He was self-made, in the City, a shrewd broker with much common sense. Edwina could do worse, for he had a good heart and came from a fine family in the country.
Alastair clasped Sonia about the waist and led her into a set. Several guests spoke to her warmly. “Where have you been? You have been ill? All the summer? How sad. How fine it is that you have returned. You still look a bit wan. Was it the fever?”
Sonia met their looks and words with quiet composure, and answered very briefly. She gave herself earnestly to the set, following the steps agilely. After the dance, Alastair anxiously took her off to a corner near the dowagers.
“Now, you are not to get weary, or you shan’t come again for a time,” he said, bringing her a glass of cold punch. She thanked him with a glowing look.
“I am fine, Alastair. I shall not overtire myself.” Then she glanced past him, and her face seemed to set. He looked around casually after a moment.
Daphne Porter was coming towards them. She was in a sensuously clinging gown of crimson satin, her green eyes mocking them.
“Alastair, my dear,” she cooed, when she came to them. Alastair eyed her dispassionately. How overblown and coarse she looked, next to the delicacy of Sonia. Had she gained much weight, or lost her looks, or had he never seen her so clearly? “I have not seen you for a week!”
“It has been much longer than that,” said Alastair curtly.
“It seems like that!” she agreed, with a trill of a laugh.
Sonia’s eyes had gone cold and grey like a marble statue. Alastair felt her stiffness and stillness next to him. Daphne turned to her.
“And you have been ill, one hears! All the long summer and autumn! How curious! What kind of fever was it?” Her shrill voice seemed to penetrate the warm perfumed air. Several dowagers, in their blacks and purples, turned to listen, their heads forwards and their eyes alert.
“The doctor did not say,” said Sonia warily. “But I am quite recovered now.”
“Splendid! Then you can work on a commission for me, can you not? I wish to order some jewellery. It will have to be done quickly, you know, for I wish it for a ball with the Prince Regent!” Her loud insolent tones were those of a lady with a tradesman. Sonia’s face went even more pale.
“I regret I have no time for more commissions,” said Sonia. And she looked past the woman as though she did not see her any longer. Her face was set, her mouth had lost its sweet curve and seemed bitter. And Alastair noted her eyes, how grey and cold they looked.
Daphne seemed inclined to argue. “But this would take you no time at all! A gentleman friend has found some splendid emeralds for me, and I wish them made into a long necklace.” She glanced coyly at Alastair, and said in a softer tone, “Gentlemen can be so very — kind — can’t they?”
The implication was that Alastair had given her the jewels. Alastair stirred, angry with her, yet he could not show it. He was furious with her, and with himself for having had anything to do with this greedy female.
He said in a chilly tone, “Lady Fairley has no time to take on any commissions, Mrs Porter. I advise you to go elsewhere.”
The thin eyebrows lifted. He noted she had coloured them. Her very blonde hair — had she dyed it, or had it always been that brassy hue? “Well, if you are going to be difficult,” she pouted. “I can tell you, Lady Fairley, you won’t get much business if you are so rude to your patrons!”
Sonia looked past her, as though she had already left them. Alastair took her arm and moved her away from Mrs Porter. The woman stared after them, a malicious smile on her lips. She had shot some poisoned darts into vulnerable places, she thought.
Edwina came up to them, radiantly lovely, clinging to the arm of Ralph Hastings. As they were introduced, Sonia did not regain her colour or her smile. Edwina looked at her with anxiety.
“Are you too weary, my dear Sonia?” she whispered. “It is such a crush here.”
“We will leave early,” said Alastair. “A few more turns about the room, then I will take Sonia home.” He held her possessively to him. He felt she had moved a distance from him, and he resented it bitterly.
Ralph Hastings bowed to her. “May I have the pleasure of a dance first, my lady?”
He was so nice, so calmly understanding, that her mouth relaxed and she nodded. Alastair gazed after them as they moved into the set.
Edwina took his arm. “Don’t worry, Alastair. When she is tired, she will say so, she is a sensible girl. Now, do say how much you like Mr Hastings! Isn’t he a dear?”
CHAPTER 17
As Sonia grew stronger, the puzzle of where she had gone haunted Alastair all the more. Her cousin Jacob and his wife Beryl came to call. They seemed devoted to each other. Alastair watched jealously for any signs of special closeness between Sonia and Jacob, and thought he could find them.
“My dear cousin, how are you?” Jacob greeted her affectionately, holding her hands. He kissed her cheek.
“Well, thank you, Jacob. And you?” Her gaze seemed to search his face anxiously. Jacob did seem thinner, and his cheeks seemed rather sunken.
Where on earth had they gone together? They seemed to have no sense of shame about it! Yet, Beryl was warm and loving to Sonia. She kissed Sonia’s cheek, squeezed her by the waist, and spoke of her child.
“You must come and see us soon. You will not know the baby! How he grows! And he is the image of Jacob!” Beryl was glowing, plump and motherly-looking now with her hair tied up in a chignon and a bonnet set back on her head. She was short, dark, not nearly so lovely as Sonia, thought Alastair. Had her husband left her openly for Sonia, for a time of three months? No, he knew these people — they were devoutly religious and moral. He had spoken to them, listened to them, become more acquainted with them. What had happened, he could not imagine.
Meyer Goldfine had come that evening, unusually for him. He was wrapped in a black velvet cloak as he entered, shivering against the early December cold. Mist and fog swirled outside the windows and came into the hallway whenever the big doors were opened.
It was a family evening, and Sonia’s face glowed pink with excitement. Maurice was there, and Edwina and Henrietta, a little quiet and shyly interested in their Jewish guests. Sonia had arranged the meal. Alastair was not certain if the foods were special or the usual fare. They had talked and chatted over the meal, of events in the city, of cousins of Sonia’s newly arrived from Vienna, of the gazettes and their reporting of political events.
Jacob and Meyer seemed as keen as Sonia about national and international affairs. Alastair found himself arguing with Jacob, in a good-natured way, about the outcome of the war on the Peninsula.
If General Wellington had really won the battle of Bussaco, why had he retreated before the French? And why did he not engage them in battle if his forces were superior? What kept him inert there in the mountains?
Meyer finally said mildly, “I am sure the general has his reasons.” His German accent was strong tonight. “We do not know all that goes on down there… it is far away.”
“Two friends of mine, from my former regiment, have returned to London,” Alastair said, frowning slightly. They had both been wounded. He had gone to visit them, and had come away sickened and vowing to aid them in any way he could. One had lost a leg and was still feverish. The other had lost an arm up to the shoulder, and had an immense red scar across his formerly handsome young face. The tragedy of war! How it brought home to him the foolish ways of men with each other.
“Oh, yes, Alastair, you were going to tell me how they are getting on. Shall I send a footman with more delicacies? And has my doctor been to them?” Sonia’s quick
sympathy had gone out to the two young officers she had never met.
Alastair nodded. “All is being done that can be. Ah — but we were talking of the war. I do not understand why Wellington does not move against the French.”
“He is a brilliant man, well versed in warfare, and he knows the French,” said Jacob, his dark eyes sparkling with interest. “I am sure he has motive for what he does.”
“You speak as though you had met him,” said Maurice idly, with a smile. “He has made his mistakes, he was recalled —”
“He has his enemies and detractors,” said Jacob sharply. “But I am sure we could have no more splendid general there.”
Sonia gently turned the conversation to a play that had opened. Jacob and Beryl had attended, and had something to say of the acting and the movement of the plot.
When they were thus engaged, Alastair moved over to sit beside Meyer Goldfine. “I have been wishing to speak to you,” he said in a low tone.
The mild dark eyes studied his. The aging hand reached up to stroke his grey beard thoughtfully. “Yes, my son?”
It gave Alastair a curious pleasure to be called that. Even his father had not — he had been stern and harsh of temper, expecting all to bow meekly to him. His rebellious older son would not, and there had been many a scene between them.
He spoke quietly. “I have tried to discover from Sonia where she went those three months. She refuses to tell me. She says she might be able to tell some day, but not now. I am growing weary of her excuses. Can you tell me now where she went?”
The dark eyes narrowed, still studying him. “My dear Alastair, I cannot. You must be patient. I have told you, she is a good girl, a noble girl, with much courage and devotion to duty. Is that not enough? There must be trust between you… I have told Sonia that.”
Alastair frowned. “Trust between us? She has no cause to mistrust me,” he said sharply. “But what about those three months?”
“Since she said she will tell you when she can, you must wait and believe her. Patience! Young people have no patience. The years drift by, and I am old. Still, I remember how hot-headed I was as a youth. Time could not move swiftly enough for me! And here I am near sixty, and time has sped,” he said with a smile and a sigh.
His shoulders were stooped, and he seemed frail in the big chair. Alastair drew back. The man would not tell him, and he could not push him. His angry look went to Jacob. The man was laughing, animated. Beryl looked up at him proudly, with a slight happy smile on her pink lips.
The evening went swiftly by. Maurice had threatened Alastair that he would leave when he became bored, but he did not go. He was enjoying his arguments with Jacob, for they could jest and laugh together in spite of their differing upbringings and beliefs.
Edwina and Beryl seemed to have much to discuss. Alastair saw his sister’s blonde head bent close to the dark one, and they were murmuring seriously. He caught the words, “Husband — babies — devotion — prayers —” and he smiled a little. Edwina was becoming quite serious about her Mr Hastings by the looks of it! She seemed to have matured a great deal this past year.
Henrietta sometimes listened to them, sometimes turned to Sonia, asking her for an opinion. Sonia answered with a smile, her patient look gentle on Henrietta’ s young head. Even Henrietta did not seem so silly and flighty as she had been. Having Sonia to confide in had been good for her also. As Alastair watched, Henrietta tossed her head, and Sonia laughed softly. Her face was bright, her grey eyes were luminous and sparkling. He enjoyed looking at her oval face, the red mouth. How much better she was now! He still shuddered when he remembered how pale and wasted she had been on her return from the “holiday” trip.
The clock chimed eleven. Meyer looked up at it. “Eleven o’clock! I must go home. I am always in bed earlier,” he said, mildly concerned.
“You say you are in bed earlier. But when I look into your room, I find the lamps burning while you are still absorbed in a book,” said Jacob, scolding him with a smile. “I know you. You pick up a book and forget the time!”
“You are wicked to give me away,” said Meyer with a boyish grin. He managed to get to his feet. Alastair sprang to assist him with a hand under the old man’s arm. “Come now, I must go. Call my carriage, if you will. You have been too entertaining, and I have quite forgot myself.”
“We must go also,” said Beryl firmly. “The baby will be wakening soon.” She blushed charmingly. “I still feed him,” she confided softly to Edwina.
“You do? You do not have a wet nurse for him?” asked Edwina. She seemed to hang on the answer.
Beryl shook her head. “No, I love to feed him, and it is no trouble. I will not have a wet nurse for him. Some are careless and given to drink.”
Alastair saw them all to the door, saw the affectionate kisses between them and Sonia. Certainly Beryl had only respect and love for her husband’s cousin. It was all the more puzzling.
Edwina and Henrietta went up to bed. Maurice decided to remain at home for a change, and picked up a book to study for an answer to an argument he had had with Jacob. Sonia glanced about the room, straightened a drape automatically, then smiled good night to the two brothers.
“Wait, I will come up with you, Sonia,” said Alastair, catching her up at the foot of the broad stairs. The butler and two footmen were extinguishing the torches at the door and the candles in the front drawing room. Maurice continued to read by the light of the fire. His valet would wait up for him.
Sonia felt light on his arm, but not so fragile as she had been. “It was a fine evening, was it not?” she asked as they ascended.
“Splendid. It went very well,” he said absently. “Jacob seems to follow the gazettes closely.”
“Yes, he does, and so does Uncle,” she admitted. “It is our country, as well, you. know. We are deeply concerned about — matters, and how the war goes.”
She sounded slightly defensive. He smiled down at her. “Of course, it is your country,” he said, and then remembered an argument in the House of Lords about admitting Jews to the Bar. The few wishing to do so had been overwhelmed by the opposition. He frowned slightly. Until he had begun going to the sessions, he had not dreamed there was such prejudice against Jews in Parliament itself. Royalty received Jews privately; some dukes and other titled persons patronized Jews as musicians and artists, or went to Jewish money-lenders. But they could not accept them as doctors, lawyers, generals, or friends. How much they missed, thought Alastair, thinking of the conversation this evening, and the good sense and thought of Sonia’s relatives.
“I like your people,” he said abruptly, following the train of thought.
“I am glad.” Her face glowed as he went into her bedroom with her. The candles were burning. Leah was seated in a straight-backed chair, her feet planted firmly before her, waiting for her mistress. “Good night, Alastair. Thank you — for being so kind to Uncle and my cousins.”
“I shall come in later,” he said calmly, smiling down at her. “I don’t want you having nightmares!” He was pleased by her blush. She was sensitive to him, and he enjoyed making her more aware of himself. He was humming off-key as he went into his bedroom where his valet waited.
He dressed, waited a bit, then went to Sonia’s room. It was in darkness save for a candle near the bed. She was sitting up, a sketch pad in hand, drawing. Her dark head was bent intently over her work, and he saw how the white lawn of her delicate nightdress showed the curves of her breasts and the creamy whiteness of her shoulders and arms. How lovely she was.
She raised her head. The grey eyes were absent, then focused on him. “Oh — Alastair —” she said, on a breath.
“Working — so late?” he teased. She grimaced and set aside the pad.
“I promised two sets of jewellery, and have done little on them,” she said, simply, lying back on the pillows. “I must really do some work tomorrow. Perhaps I should go over to my house.”
“This is your house, Sonia,” he said de
cidedly, climbing into bed beside her. “If you wish, bring your things over here and work. I shall be better pleased if you are here and can lie down when you tire. I know — I shall have Edwina keep an eye on you. She won’t let you do too much, if I ask her to guard you. Leah lets you do too much, she has no will power to withstand you!”
“Now, Alastair,” she rebuked gently. He took her into his arms and lay back, feeling her slight rounded form against his. “You know she has my welfare at heart.”
“Yes, but you bully her,” he said, laughing softly against her throat.
“I do not bully her!”
“Yes, you do. You have a very obstinate will, my dear!”
“Oh, how can you say that —”
He ran his hand over her shoulder, down to her arm, then to her rounded breast, cupping it in his palm. All desire to tease fell away from him. Passion was rising in him; it had been so long since he had loved her.
“Sonia,” he said, against her ear. She went still as a mouse.
“Umm?”
“I want you tonight. Are you — you aren’t feeling ill, or anything? I was going to wait until you were stronger —” The urgency in his voice did not seem to alarm her. Her arms went up and about his neck.
“Oh, it has been such a time, my dear,” she said simply. She was generous in her loving; she always had been. He bent over her, his mouth going hungrily to her lips.
Her mouth parted, the soft pink well-shaped lips opening before his onslaught. He tried to be gentle and slow, but passion was rising so swiftly in him. He forced himself to go carefully. She had been ill such a long time…
He nibbled at her shoulder, teased at her arms, moved his lips over her chin, down to her throat, and then to her breast. He remained there for a time, his lips moving over her bared breasts, feeling her hands threading tenderly through his hair, caressing the back of his neck. Her slim sensitive fingers went to his back, and moved slowly over the muscles there, thrilling him. Oh, she was so delightful, so full of delight, he thought hazily.
Star Sapphire: Love and wild adventure in Regency England Page 21