Richard knew that if he wanted to speak to Mimi he would have to dance with her. But she’d been occupied all evening. He made the decision to stay near to where she was, skirting the edge of the dance floor so that when the music ended he could step in.
The Duke would not dance two in a row with Mimi. While the man had been showing her every attention since he’d arrived at the party, to dance two in a row or more than two was tantamount to making a public statement. A public statement that he was courting Mimi. And while it was quietly commented on that the Duke was courting her discreetly, it was not public knowledge.
Richard had heard stories about the Duke at the club. Hertford loved to chase women, and he delighted in breaking down their barriers, one by one. He enjoyed watching them wage war in their pretty heads over how they were expected to behave and how they wanted to behave. And the Duke could always manipulate the lady in question to behave just the way he wanted her to.
The stories caused Richard to worry a great deal about Mimi. He’d also heard that once the Duke had broken down a young lady’s reserve, he lost interest in her. The game was over, the Duke moved on to the next conquest, and the young lady nursed a confused and broken heart.
Worse yet, there was no one to stop the scoundrel. As soon as the Duke put his attentions on a pretty young lady, her mother would, of course, do all in her power to further the connection. It was no matter that the Duke had left a string of dissatisfied and angry matriarchs behind him. Each woman knew with all certainty that her daughter would be the one the Duke would fall madly in love with. And marry.
Richard made his way around to the far end of the dance floor. The dance was almost over. He was poised to step in and ask Mimi if his accompaniment would be welcome.
The song’s notes became softer and slower until the song ended. Everyone stopped dancing. Many were looking for a server to get some refreshment. The Duke stepped back from Mimi, looking around the room, presumably for his next victim.
Richard took the opportunity to move forward and enquire as to whether Mimi would join him or not.
“Have at it, Lieutenant,” the Duke answered before Mimi could say a word.
The two of them moved out onto the floor.
“How are you, Mimi? Uh, Miss Hancock?”
“I’m well. And you?”
“Fine.”
They danced in silence for what felt like forever. Not another word was spoken until the music died.
Before she could step off the dance floor, Richard asked Mimi why she was being so distant.
“Clearly you pay no attention to your own actions, Lieutenant.”
“I don’t understand, Mimi.”
“What I mean is we are, both of us, trying to better our places in society. If I married the Duke, I could take care of my mother forever. It is not distance, but concentration you sense in me.”
“So that is why you’re carrying on a flirtation with Hertford? You actually think he would marry a middle class goldsmith’s daughter and take on her unruly mother as well?”
“How dare you call my mother unruly. And how dare you imply that I am somehow deficient when it comes to the Duke’s affections. Who do you think you are?”
“I don’t think about who I am, Mimi. I know who I am.” With that Richard walked away from her. He crossed the dance floor and moved right towards Lizzie Stevens.
Mimi suddenly felt as if she would cry, and indeed, the tears welled up in her eyes. She cautiously looked around to ascertain if anyone had seen the way Richard had just cut her. Her eyes landed on Lavinia’s. For a moment, she thought she saw pity there, even from a distance. But then, Lavinia’s eyes turned icy, and she looked away from Mimi.
What was going on? Mimi didn’t recall having ever been so confused about anything. Richard had said he knew who he was. But he’d had to go away to find out. He’d had to join the army and go to battle and see all kinds of appalling and horrifying things to find out who he was.
And Lavinia didn’t know who she was just as Marie didn’t. Because each of them, all of them, wanted to be someone else. They wanted what they didn’t have and never would. They wanted to belong to something they deemed better. They wanted to be people they weren’t. People they never would be. People they never could be. A brass ring would always be a brass band no matter how many times it was dipped in gold.
Mimi stood quickly, the tears beginning to fall. She knew she needed to get out. She needed to get out of the room. She made her way to the door that led to the corridor.
The dull thudding in her head had become a gruelling throbbing. She wanted nothing more than to leave the party. She looked around trying to find her mother. The candle flames seemed to leap and jump along the walls, and a hand took her arm and wrenched her out to the dance floor. She looked up to see who her partner was. Who was he? Did she know this man? He looked like Duke Hertford, but his face was long and ghostly white. Then it was dead with black holes where eyes should be and grinning teeth that laughed at her confusion. The room swirled before and around her as all the while the mysterious dance partner leered at her. She felt short of breath, the colours of the ladies’ dresses blended into an impenetrable wall as she felt herself recede further from reality. A tunnel of darkness surrounded and swallowed her, and she saw nothing more. She heard nothing more.
*******
Mimi opened her eyes. The familiar pattern of the bed curtains on her four-posted bed greeted her. She closed her eyes and opened them again. She was in her own bed in her own chamber. Vaguely, she heard someone moving quietly around the room. She tried to speak, but no sound emerged from between her parched lips. Every part of her body ached with an almost excruciating pain. And she was cold. So, so, cold.
Quilts were piled on top of her, but her hands and feet felt cold and wet as if she’d dipped them into the ocean. But it was winter, not summer. She was not in Cromer. Or was she? She tried to move, and again, she was paralysed by the pain that swept through the joints of her limbs.
She lay there waiting. The soft sounds of movement within the room had disappeared. Was she dying? What had happened to her? Why was there no one at her bedside? Could it be possible that she was already dead? Was the all consuming pain she felt some sort of hellish punishment? But for what? What had she done wrong?
Her last memory was of dancing. Around and around until everything she’d looked at had become distorted and blinding. She had danced with a stranger. A large headed monster with thick warty skin and yellow teeth. A monster that had swung her as a rag doll all around the dance floor causing her to swoon and feel as if she might vomit.
While she’d fought for strength, for vision, for balance, the black tunnel had closed in on her until the twinkling lights on the walls had appeared as the tiniest of stars in the deep black twilight.
Mimi lay in the bed, eyes closed, shifting position in an attempt to ease the gruelling ache that reached into her very bones. She tried to block the hideous images that played behind her eyelids. Then, mercifully, the black tunnel closed in on her once more.
Chapter 12
“Please, Giselle. I must see her. If you stay in the chamber we will be doing nothing wrong. No one will ever know. You must help me. Please.”
“She is in and out of consciousness, Lieutenant. It’s influenza. The doctor is most worried about her. We all are. He said she needs complete rest. It’s … well, he said she’s not out of danger yet.” Giselle took her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.
“All the more reason for me to see her. Giselle, I would never forgive myself if Mimi were to, uh, if something were to happen to her. I must speak to her. I must. It’s most important.”
Giselle chewed her lip. “Hmm. Very well. Madame is resting. I don’t suppose it would hurt if you were to see her for a few moments. Maybe it could help. Come with me. And mind, be quiet as a mouse. We must pass by Madame’s chamber to get to Mimi’s.”
“I shall. Thank you, Giselle.”
She
led Richard up to the third floor and looked up and down the corridor. Seeing no one, she opened the door to Mimi’s chamber and gestured for Richard to go inside the room. She followed and stayed by the door.
Richard was across the room in two strides. “Mimi, darling.” He took her hand marvelling at how tiny and cold it was. “Please, Mimi. Wake up. I am so sorry I hurt you.” He bowed his head towards the bed and thought she tried to squeeze his hand.”
“Mimi?”
Her eyes were open and focused on him. She smiled wanly.
“Mimi! Please say you forgive me. I was hurt. I went away to the war so I could impress your mother. So that she would allow you to marry me. I acted like a cad at the party last night. I was trying to hide my true feelings.
I … I love you, Mimi. I want to make you my wife more than anything else in this world. I love you … I love you, my darling.”
Again, he felt it as she attempted to squeeze his hand.
“Don’t close your eyes, dear. Don’t slip away. Do you hear me? Mimi, I love you.”
Her lips moved but no words reached his ears. He leaned down towards the bed and put his ear to her mouth. He heard the softest, lightest, most fleeting whisper.
“I love you, too. Richard.”
He glanced towards Giselle who had looked away and was wiping her eyes with the edge of her apron.
His attention went back to Mimi. “When you are well, my darling, we shall make our love official. Would you like that, my love? Mimi?”
He stroked the dark curls away from her face. “Darling?”
“She’s fallen back to sleep, Lieutenant.” Giselle had walked over to the bedside. She placed her hand on Mimi’s forehead, and then cupped her cheek. “I believe the fever has broken. She seems to be sleeping naturally. Thanks be to God.”
“Yes, thanks be to God.” Richard laid his head across Mimi’s torso and wrapped his arms around her as well as he could.
“I love you, Mimi.” His tears began to flow. He might lose her yet. He wouldn’t be able to let her go. He didn’t think he could live if she were to die. “Please stay with me, my Mimi.”
Suddenly the door to the room burst open as if from a violent wind. Marie, her hair down and wearing a dressing gown and robe flew into the room.
“What is going on here? What is he doing here?” She pointed a long white finger in Richard’s direction. “I thought I heard a man’s voice. In Mimi’s bedchamber, Giselle? I’ll ask you again. What is going on here?” She looked at Richard. “I will demand that you leave here at once, Lieutenant Warren. This instant. Giselle, you and I will discuss this later.”
Richard had stood as quickly as his injured leg would allow and slowly moved away from the bedside.
I do not wish to see you at this house again, Lieutenant. Is that understood?”
“Mrs Hancock, you must ...”
“Don’t, Richard. My daughter is going to marry Duke Hertford. Don’t you go getting any grand ideas; do you hear me? My daughter is off limits to you. She is off limits to anyone not a member of the peerage. So leave. Now.”
Richard looked from Marie to Giselle. Giselle’s eyes were on her shoes, her hands folded demurely in front of her.
“Madame, please hear me out. None of this is Giselle’s fault.”
“Leave, Richard. I do not require any explanations from you. I only demand you leave this room and this house immediately. Please do not make me ring Jones to escort you out. And do not come back again. Is that understood? You are not welcome here.”
Richard straightened his back and slowly walked out of the room.
“Am I clear, Richard?” Marie was standing in the doorway, calling after him. “Do you understand me?”
Richard walked to the stairs and down the four flights to the servants’ hall. The door to the back area was next to the hall. He exited and walked over to the mews.
“Who’s there?” The groom was standing in the stable yard.
“It’s Lieutenant Warren. I’m returning to my home by the back way. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“Oh no, Sir. You haven’t disturbed me. Not a bit. May I assist you with something?”
“That won’t be necessary, although I thank you.”
“Very well, sir.” The groom went back to whatever it was he’d been doing, and Richard made his way, slowly and painfully, to the back of his parents’ home.
Once his family moved to Wimpole Street, Richard reckoned he would need to find his own lodgings. Maybe his father would sell him the Jermyn Street townhouse. It originally would have gone to his older brother, George. But since his family was moving up in the world and George was still residing in Cambridge, Richard didn’t think his brother would want to keep the London townhouse. It was in the wrong neighbourhood.
Richard had found himself repelled with what he considered to be the gross hypocrisy of his parents. They were prepared to reinvent themselves as people who came from money. Of course, the real members of the ton would always know who was who, and who was not. But that didn’t seem to matter to his parents or anyone involved in the hustle of trying to look and act as part of the ton.
It was the appearance of gentility that mattered to them. It was the appearance of status that mattered to everyone in London. It angered Richard and saddened him at the same time.
*******
Two weeks had passed since Mimi had come out of the fever and could sit up in bed. Her appetite was back, and Marie had been feeding her every manner of nourishing foods. Blanque mange, seed cake, and pound cake would all serve to put the weight that Mimi had lost back on her frame.
“So tell me again what happened, Giselle? It’s all so hazy. The pain was so great I thought I was to die. Indeed, I prayed for death to visit me, and I thought sometimes that I was dead.”
“It was touch and go, Mademoiselle. Your fever raged for five days then lowered for two. We thought you were on the mend, and then the fever went up again. Your skin was so hot to the touch, yet you shivered and chattered your teeth. You went in and out of sleep, fitfully. Finally, during the seventh night of the second round of fever you began to breathe easy. The fever had finally broken. We had to change your sleeping clothes and move you to another room so everything in here could be washed. The room itself has been freshly painted.”
“How odd. I don’t have any memory of the fever. I can vaguely remember being moved. But other than that, I remember only one dream I had.”
“A dream? What did you dream of, Mademoiselle?”
“First there were many faces. All leering and glaring at me. They laughed and pointed at me. I had nowhere to run, but then a man in a red jacket came to me and took my hand. When he touched me, my pain dissipated a little bit. He smiled at me. Hmm. That’s all I remember. Fever dreams, I reckon.”
Giselle was quiet. Nancy had prepared a posset for Mimi. And Giselle wondered if she should tell her mistress about Richard and his call. It seemed that a part of Mimi’s memory had held onto his visit. Something inside of her must have known Richard had been to see her.
“Do you think he was the Duke, Giselle?”
“Mademoiselle?”
“In my dream. Do you think the man in my dream was the Duke?”
Giselle thought a moment before answering. She knew that Marie would punish her if she found out that Mimi was told Richard had been to the house.
Giselle had been punished severely for permitting Richard into Mimi’s bedchamber. For the next two months she was to lose her half day of Saturday off. And she was required to go back to work on Sunday directly after Church. It was a deprivation of personal time that Giselle felt keenly. But she was relieved and grateful that she still had a position in the household.
“Well, do you? Giselle? Have you been listening to me?”
“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle. I’ve been a little preoccupied of late.”
“Do tell. You know how much I like a good story. And I’ve been so bored.”
Gisell
e smiled. She hoped Mimi would soon sleep so she’d be spared the making up of a story. She handed Mimi the posset.
*******
Before Giselle could say another word, there was a flurry of noise and activity from the street. It floated up to the front window of the upstairs hall. Giselle exited Mimi’s bedchamber and hurried down the hall to the window.
Outside a grand coach had pulled up to the front of the house. There was a coat of arms on the doors of the vehicle, and the grooms were attired in hunter green and ochre.
Giselle’s hand went to her lips. His Grace, the Duke of Hertford was assisted from the coach and headed towards the front door. Giselle ran back to Mimi’s bedchamber.
“Mademoiselle!” She burst through the doorway.
The Lost Love of a Stunning Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 15