by Meghan Sloan
She leant against the window, her breath fogging on the glass. She didn’t just like him. Her body had acted in an alarming way when she had been close to him. Trembling, and flushing. She had never experienced anything like it before in her life. Whatever could it mean?
Suddenly she stilled. A fog was rolling in, tumbling down the street, and in the midst of it she could see a dark figure, slowly walking. The figure of a woman.
She gasped, rubbing her eyes. When she opened them, it had vanished completely. The fog was still rolling, but the figure was gone.
She felt the hair on the back of her neck prickling with unease. She was not superstitious in the least. But she could not ignore the chill that had gone down her spine when she had seen it.
Was it a warning? A premonition of doom?
A dark figure of a woman. A fiancée who had disappeared without trace. And she was in the midst of the mystery now, whether she liked it or not.
What had happened to Marina St. George? And would she ever be able to utter her name, to her new fiancée. Or would the lady be forever like an open wound between them?
Chapter 6
The day was chilly and the wind bitter, tearing along the street like a dervish, as Alice and Charlotte made their way down Milsom Street. Both young ladies were forced to stop for a moment on their way to The Honeypot Tea Rooms, clutching each other, squealing in mock terror.
Charlotte’s hand was on her head, trying to keep her bonnet in place. Alice grinned. They had inadvertently stopped outside Mrs. Lampitt’s Milliners. She pointed in the direction of the shop window, at the bonnets and hats displayed through the glass atop white model heads with necks almost as long as swans.
“We can always duck in here if you lose it,” she said in a loud voice, over the wind. “I will buy you another.”
Charlotte laughed heartily. “Oh, my dearest, you are simply too kind. But I think we should brave it. The tea rooms are not far, are they? I am simply dying for a hot cup of tea.”
Alice nodded. They linked arms tightly, continuing until they got to The Honeypot. The air was warm and a welcome relief as they opened the door. They found a table against the window, so they could gaze out at the street as they sipped their tea.
Alice sighed with pleasure once the tea was served and their cups had been poured. They had spent the whole morning shopping on Milsom Street, and her feet were aching. They had only another half an hour before she had to be home and she and Charlotte must separate.
It was the first time they had managed to catch up since the night of the dinner party. Charlotte had been forced to leave early the next day as her mother required her company at an exhibition, and they had not had time to talk about the evening, really. They had not had time to talk about the announcement of the engagement either, which had appeared in the local newspaper just two days earlier. This was their time now, and Alice was eager to hear Charlotte’s thoughts.
“Did you see it?” she asked, putting her cup down in its saucer. “The announcement in the newspaper?”
Charlotte nodded. “Indeed, I did. Mama showed me over breakfast. She told me to extend her congratulations to you, by the way.” She paused. “How do you feel about it all now, my dear? Has it hit home, that you are indeed an engaged lady now?”
Alice pondered this. It had all happened so quickly that she still didn’t truly believe it was real, in some ways. “I do not feel engaged,” she said quickly. “How is an engaged lady supposed to feel?”
Charlotte shrugged as she sipped her tea. “Ecstatic? Radiant? I hardly know. As long as you are not unhappy with it, then all is well, I suppose.” She studied her friend closely. “Are you still beset by doubts about Mr. Wilmington’s moodiness and that it may signal his broken heart is not truly mended?”
Alice sighed. “It is a worry. But his mood did improve with the song. I was furious with you when I realised what you had planned. But it did break the ice between us again.”
“Just call me matchmaker,” said Charlotte, smiling playfully. “He has a wonderful singing voice, by the way. You did sound lovely together.”
Alice was silent, remembering the mysterious dark figure that had appeared through the fog that night. Her skin prickled, remembering it.
It had been easy to dismiss in the cold light of the next day, and she had managed to push it firmly from her mind since. She must have imagined it, she decided. She was tired and there was barely any light on the street. But still, the vision of it would come back to her now and again, when she least expected it.
Was it a vision from the grave? Was Marina St. George dead and restless? Had she decided to walk down her street, to protest the fact that her fiancé had moved on with another? Alice had read Gothic novels where such things had happened. Ghosts of lost loves, haunting baronial halls, shaking their chains in the night…
She picked up her teacup, pushing the vision firmly aside. She was being stupid. Marina St. George hadn’t decided to haunt her, to express her displeasure that Silas Wilmington was now Alice’s fiancé. But still…the thought of the young lady was never far from her mind, and the pressing question of what had happened to her.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said Charlotte, interrupting her reverie. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”
Alice smiled faintly, feeling a little ill. “I was just wondering what the gossip is about my engagement,” she said slowly. “Have you or your mother heard anything?” She held her breath, waiting for Charlotte’s response. She didn’t know why it was so important to her, to hear what other people thought, and yet it was.
Charlotte hesitated. “Some people think that it is too soon after Marina’s disappearance,” she said slowly. “They think it is in poor taste and are saying that a proper mourning period should have been observed, of at least a year.”
Alice felt her blood run cold. The vision of the dark female figure leapt into her mind once again. Could it be true? Had Marina decided to make an appearance from beyond the grave, protesting the speed of the new engagement, and that she had not been mourned for the proper period?
“But others are happy for you both,” continued Charlotte, smiling. “They say that the poor gentleman deserves some happiness, after all the trauma, and think that you will make a most delightful couple.”
Alice shuddered. It was hardly an overwhelming display of support, but then, the disappearance of Marina St. George had been gossiped about ferociously. She could hardly expect all that talk to die down completely, could she?
She bit her lip, thinking about Silas. He had not contacted her since the night of the dinner party or the announcement of their engagement. He had not sent a message to call on her or to take her out for tea or to a dance. Nothing. The silence was deafening.
She wondered again whether she should have gone ahead with it. But the lingering memory of him – of her response to him, how he had made her tremble, and flush – had overridden her doubts.
She wanted to get to know Silas Wilmington better. But how?
She didn’t want the engagement to go ahead but never see him before the wedding. The thought of her next vision of him being at the altar sent shudders through her. It seemed so cold and bloodless. And it would tell her, without words, how he really felt about this engagement and approaching marriage.
It told her she would always be second best, and he was determined that it remain that way.
She was just about to ask Charlotte what her thoughts on the matter were when her friend jumped up, rushing to the door of the tearoom. She opened the door, calling out to a gentleman, who was walking by.
“Nicholas,” she called.
The gentleman turned around. He was a tall fellow, rather gangly, with ginger hair and pale blue eyes. There was a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He had a kind face, Alice thought, as she studied him.
“Charlotte!” he exclaimed, striding towards her. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
Charlotte was smil
ing with delight. “Will you join us for tea? It has been an age since we have caught up.”
He nodded, looking equally delighted. “Refreshment would be welcome,” he said. “It is rather a chilly day.”
Charlotte brought him to the table. “Mr. Nicholas Turner, this is my dear friend, Miss Alice Sinclair.”
The gentleman looked astounded. “Miss Sinclair? The very same who has just become engaged to my good friend, Mr. Silas Wilmington?”
Alice laughed. “I am the same lady, Mr. Turner. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
He sat down, taking off his hat and coat, studying her carefully with his kind blue eyes. “Well, you are perfectly lovely,” he pronounced, after a moment. “I have been eager to meet you since I saw the announcement in the newspaper. Silas, the sly dog, did not mention a thing about it to me.”
Alice stiffened. This, if anything, showed her how Silas felt about their engagement. If this gentleman was as good a friend as he claimed to be with her fiancé, and Silas was pleased about it, he would have informed him privately, surely?
Silas Wilmington was hardly singing his new engagement from the rooftops.
“Oh, I have made you sad,” said Mr. Turner, sighing heavily. “I did not mean to do that. I am sure that Silas will tell me himself…he is probably intending to do so this evening, when he comes to a dinner party at my house. Do not be bereft, Miss Sinclair.”
Alice forced a smile onto her face. “Indeed, I am not sad, Mr. Turner.” She paused. “Let us talk of other things. How are you and Charlotte acquainted?”
Charlotte grinned. “I have known Nicholas for years, Alice. His family are very good friends with mine. Surely, you remember me mentioning him?”
Alice gasped. “Oh, this is the Nicholas who you said acts like a mischievous brother towards you? The brother that you have never had?”
Nicholas laughed outright. “Indeed, Charlotte is like an annoying little sister, forever bothering me. Do you remember when you upset the salt at the table, spilling it onto my dear Mama’s lap?”
Charlotte laughed merrily. “Indeed! How old was I then? A sprite of twelve?” She turned to Alice. “It is astonishing that you two have never met before, now that I think about it. Nicholas has been around for years, bothering me, rather like an irritating insect.”
“Oh, fie!” exclaimed Nicholas, his blue eyes sparkling. “You love every minute of it, Charlotte. Who else keeps you on your toes if not me?”
They all laughed.
“I say,” said Nicholas suddenly. “Why don’t you both join me for my dinner party this evening? The invites were sent out a week ago, but I can squeeze in two extra seats.” He turned to Alice. “It would be fun, getting to know you better, Miss Sinclair. And it would mean that you and my friend Silas can get to know each other better as well. Two birds with one stone, hey?”
Charlotte clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, that would be most agreeable! We should throw them both together as much as we possibly can.”
“I do not know,” interjected Alice, biting her lip. “I am sure that Mr. Turner is only being polite.”
Nicholas laughed. “You really do not know me at all, Miss Sinclair, or you would not suggest such a thing. Believe me, I would not invite you if I did not truly want to.” His eyes glittered. “And I think it would be a good thing for Silas. He needs to get over the St. George woman once and for all. He has been moping for far too long over her. And you are perfectly charming, Miss Sinclair. You have my seal of approval, and I am utterly determined that Silas will see that charm as well.”
Alice bit her lip harder, in an agony of indecision. How would Silas react if she just turned up out of the blue at a dinner party he was attending? Would he feel like she was stalking him?
“Oh, Alice, do not overthink it,” said Charlotte. “It is a good opportunity for you and Mr. Wilmington to get to know each other better.”
“It will be very relaxed,” said Nicholas, smiling at her. “Only good friends. A young crowd. Not an oldie in sight to spoil the festivities!”
They all laughed again.
Nicholas stood up. “Well, I’d best be on my way,” he said, smiling. “Off to see a man about a dog.” He turned to Alice. “Please say you will come this evening, Miss Sinclair. Seven o’clock, on the dot. Charlotte knows the address.”
Alice couldn’t help smiling back at him. He was so warm and friendly. “If it isn’t too much, of an imposition?”
“No imposition at all,” he insisted, putting his hat on his head. “In fact, the more the merrier, in my opinion. I am looking forward to it!” He farewelled them, then was gone, back on the street, walking briskly away.
“What a friendly gentleman,” said Alice, gazing after him. “Is he really as good friends with Silas Wilmington as he claims?”
Charlotte nodded, picking up her rapidly cooling tea. “I have heard Nicholas mention him often over the years,” she said slowly. “They went to school together and have been the best of friends since.” She paused. “He used to mention Marina St. George during their engagement. I got the impression he never really liked the lady all that much.”
Alice gazed at Charlotte. “I got that impression, too, from when he mentioned her,” she said. “Did he ever say why he did not like her?”
Charlotte pondered, frowning slightly. “He only ever mentioned her in passing,” she said slowly. “Something about her running rings around Silas, or some such thing.”
Alice contemplated this. It was the first time that she had heard anything negative about the legendary Marina St. George, who had been extremely popular. People were always going on about her luminous beauty and her charm.
No wonder I feel like runner-up, she thought glumly.
“Tell me more about Nicholas,” she said, pushing the thought of Miss St. George firmly to one side. “Is he married?”
“Lord, no!” said Charlotte, almost spilling her tea. “He is a playboy, I think. He always talks about the long list of lovely ladies he squires about town. I think he has managed to break a few hearts in his day.”
“What about you?” asked Alice, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Would you ever consider him as a suitor?”
Charlotte laughed. “Oh, dear me, no! He is like a brother to me, as I said, and I have no feelings like that towards him at all. Nor does he towards me.” She paused. “But he is a dear man, beneath all the playfulness, and I admire him greatly.”
“I wonder if that is what Silas Wilmington was like,” said Alice slowly. “Before all this sadness, over Marina. Do you think he was happy-go-lucky, like Nicholas, once upon a time?” She contemplated the charming, but moody man who was now her fiancé.
“I believe he was,” said Charlotte. “Nicholas often talked about their high jinks, at school. The tricks they would play on their masters. That sort of thing.” She paused. “He is a very different man now, though. Even I can see the heaviness that still sits upon his soul.”
Alice blinked back tears. It was too sad. How could she ever hope to bring back the man, that he had once been? The man who had existed prior to his relationship with Marina St. George?
Charlotte sighed. “We should get going. Mama is expecting me at home, for my pianoforte lesson.” She gazed at Alice. “Do you truly want to go to the dinner party this evening? I am willing if you are.”
Alice nodded slowly. “I have promised Nicholas now, and I have no intention of going back on my word,” she said slowly. “It will be interesting, to observe Silas in a different environment, at least.” She tried to ignore the butterflies that had sprung to life in her stomach, at the thought of seeing him again.