by M. C. Beaton
And so Lady Harrington had to leave the company, and Mr. Travers said quite audibly, “Now the frost has arrived, I suppose the fun will stop.”
“What frost?” asked Sir John. “It is a fine day. Are you sledging today?”
“What do you think, Colonel?” asked Mr. Travers. “Will Mrs. Tenby expect us back?”
“Oh, I think if we are all back in time for dinner, that will do very well,” said the colonel.
There were cries of delight from the young people. Everyone with the exception of Lord Paul, Lord Ranger, the colonel, and Sir John and Lady Harrington went off to get dressed.
Only about ten minutes later Lord Paul and Lord Ranger heard their cries and shouts from outside. The sledging party was off, and it was half an hour later when Lucinda and Harriet entered the dining room.
“Where is everyone?” asked Harriet.
“They have gone sledging. Do have something to eat, ladies,” said Sir John.
Harriet and Lucinda exchanged complacent little smiles. Lord Ranger and Lord Paul had not gone with the sledging party: they had waited for them.
It did not cross their vain minds that both men, having escorted them over, could hardly go off and leave them.
Conversation became formal and stilted. This was not helped by Lady Harrington, who was cleverly trying to make everything seem as dreary as possible. She did not like Harriet or Lucinda, and besides, she had a dream of presenting the terrible Davenport parents with the news of their daughters’ engagements to Lord Ranger and Lord Paul.
How slowly Harriet and Lucinda ate, marveled Lord Paul. Faintly he could hear the shouts and cheers of the sledging party. That young Jensen fellow appeared vastly taken with Mandy, but he was a clumsy chap, not suitable for such a sensitive girl.
At last both ladies, after having pointedly looked around for napkins, that newfangled fashion not yet adopted by the Harringtons, sighed, exchanged rueful little smiles, and wiped their mouths delicately on the tablecloth.
“Perhaps you would care to join the sledging party?” suggested Lord Paul.
Harriet shook her head. “I have decided to give up such childish games.”
Suddenly impatient, Lord Ranger got to his feet. “Then I must be in my second childhood. I shall not be long.”
Lord Paul stood up and bowed to Harriet and Lucinda. “Excuse us,” he said. And almost as if they dreaded being called back, both men quickly left the room.
Lady Harrington rose to her feet. “Come through to the drawing room fire, ladies.”
Harriet and Lucinda, outwards meek and biddable, inwardly fuming, followed her.
“I have some things to attend to,” said Lady Harrington, “but you will find some of the latest magazines just arrived from London, and ring the bell if there is anything else you want.”
“This is infuriating,” said Harriet, once they were alone.
“Not the way we planned it, and unless we can put a spoke in the Davenport girls’ wheels, they, not us, might turn out to be the most popular at this dreary provincial dance in Moreton.”
“Did you see their ball gowns?” asked Harriet, for they had been given Jilly’s room to groom themselves in, and the two nearly finished ball gowns were on stands by the window. “Made by the local dressmaker. I looked at her clothes. All made over. Some of the ones that haven’t been touched yet are dowdy in the extreme.”
Harriet suddenly sat up straight. “I wonder if they have anything else that they would be able to use as ball gowns.”
“I shouldn’t think so. Why?”
“If anything were to happen to those gowns, then they could not go.”
“We couldn’t… could we?”
Harriet’s eyes gleamed. “If you were to pretend to be faint, Lady Harrington would urge us to retire. Once we are up there, we will think what to do. So look faint!”
Lucinda promptly lay back in her chair with one limp hand to her brow. It was typical of this slovenly household, thought Harriet, that Lady Harrington should answer the bell herself.
Although Lady Harrington evinced great concern, she thought privately that the two girls were sulking. There was something so stagy about Lucinda’s pose, as if that young lady were striking an Attitude. But she suggested that they retire abovestairs where her maid would apply lavender water to Lucinda’s temples.
Lucinda endured the ministrations of the maid and then sent her away. No sooner was the door closed than she sat up. Both girls looked at those ball gowns.
“What do you think?” asked Harriet.
Lucinda swung her legs out of bed. Both stood side by side, looking at the dresses, which gleamed white in the fading light. Then Harriet lit a branch of candles with a taper thrust into the fire. She held the candles up.
“Now, say you were to take these candles from me, Lucinda,” she said in a thoughtful voice. “Say you were to become faint and stagger towards these gowns. Oops! The gowns catch fire, but we do not want to burn down the house, so I grab a jug of water from the toilet table and pour it over them. Result, a total wreck.”
“Let’s do it,” said Lucinda. She took the branch of candles and held the flickering flames against the dresses. The result was startling. Both gowns burst into flames.
Harriet doused them in water and then smothered the remaining flames with the bedcover, shouting, “Help! Help!” at the top of her voice.
The sledging party, just returning, heard those cries and they all scrambled to get upstairs to see what was the matter.
Lady Harrington and her maid were there before them. Lucinda was white and sobbing: she really did have a fright.
“Poor Lucinda,” cried Harriet. “She fainted and knocked the candles over the gowns. Oh, what a disaster.”
“A disaster indeed,” said Jilly. Mandy stood rigid in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock and dismay. In her dreams she had danced in that gown, floated in Lord Paul’s arms in that gown.
“Were those your gowns for the ball?” asked Margaret.
Jilly nodded dumbly.
“How frightful!” cried Belinda. “Do you have others?”
Jilly shook her head, still too miserable to speak.
Lord Ranger edged the little group aside and went and stood next to the ruined dresses. He stood and studied them for a moment. He looked down at the now-extinguished branch of candles lying on the floor. “How did the candles get over here?” he asked abruptly.
“Lucinda picked them up from the mantelpiece and was carrying them to the toilet table when she became faint and staggered across the room. Lady Harrington, Lucinda and I will be happy to pay you for their loss,” said Harriet.
“I think it would be a greater help if you lent the girls two of your own ball gowns,” said Lady Harrington.
Harriet’s eyes widened and then she said, “But we only have one gown each.”
There was a little silence. Lord Ranger exchanged a long look with Lord Paul. It was hard to believe that two such fashion plates, whose vast amount of luggage was still the talk of Colonel Tenby’s servants, should have only one ball gown each.
Margaret turned to her friend, Belinda. “I have a gown I could spare, and Miss Jilly and I are of a height, and Miss Mandy could fit one of your gowns.”
“Yes, I could do that,” said Belinda.
“You are both Trojans,” cried Mr. Travers in delight, and Margaret felt her generous gesture had been the right one, for Mr. Travers was really looking at her for the first time.
Lady Harrington turned round and found Jimmy at her elbow. “Get the carriage,” she ordered. “I gather Lady Harriet and Miss Lucinda rode over. They must not ride back. Lord Paul and Lord Ranger can lead their horses back later.”
“I am sure both gentlemen will wish to escort us home,” flashed Harriet, “considering that Lucinda is still far from well.”
“I shall go with you myself,” said Lady Harrington firmly. “No, not another word. And I shall suggest to Mrs. Tenby that you are given a strong purge.�
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Harriet and Lucinda looked appealingly at Lord Paul and Lord Ranger, but both men had turned away.
Nearly crying with rage and disappointment, both ladies were marched to the door by Lady Harrington, who said over her shoulder, “I do feel the rest of you should be thinking of returning as well or Mrs. Tenby will never forgive me.”
Lord Ranger turned around. “The rest of you go ahead. I have some business to transact with Miss Jilly.”
Margaret and Belinda, after many fond farewells and protestations of friendship, got into the carriage with Mr. Travers and Mr. Jensen.
“You know what I think,” said Mr. Travers as the carriage lurched homewards over the snow ruts in the road. “I think that cat, Lucinda, deliberately set light to those gowns.”
“That was one of the main reasons we offered our own gowns,” said Margaret.
Mr. Travers beamed at her. “You did splendidly,” he said, and Margaret glowed.
“Besides,” said Mr. Jensen, “it would be fine of you to take the gowns over tomorrow in person, and we could go with you.”
“The Davenport girls are such fun,” said Belinda generously. “And I think Lord Ranger and Lord Paul think so, too.”
“And I think you are both fun yourselves,” said Mr. Jensen, who had quite forgotten about Mandy already and was wondering if he could dare to give Belinda’s hand a warm squeeze when he helped her down from the carriage.
In the drawing room, Jilly was looking at the presents Lord Ranger had brought. She and Mandy were alone with Lord Paul and Lord Ranger. The rest of the young people had left with Colonel Tenby, Lady Harrington had not yet returned from the Tenbys’, and Sir John had retired to take a nap. “The scarf would do very well for Lady Harrington,” Lord Ranger was saying, “and the new slippers for Sir John. The other trinkets are for the maids, and the knife is for Jimmy, the boy.”
“How clever of you,” said Jilly. “Did you have enough money?”
“Exactly right,” replied Lord Ranger, thinking how unworldly Jilly was. The money she had given him had not even paid for the silk scarf.
“It is a pity about your gowns,” he went on. “Were they very fine?”
“Lady Harrington said the muslin, which was all she could get locally, was too coarse, but they looked so grand to us,” said Jilly wistfully. “How could Miss Lucinda be so clumsy?”
Mandy clenched her little hands into fists. “I do not think she fainted at all,” she said. “All our closets have been gone through, Jilly, everything turned over, and not much attempt made to put things back the way they were.”
Jilly threw her a warning look. She felt that Mandy would not endear herself to Lord Paul by criticizing Lucinda.
“I must thank you again for shopping for us,” she said firmly. “I suppose you must soon be leaving as well?”
Lord Ranger stretched his long legs out to the fire and gave a little sigh. “There is no hurry,” he said. “It is comfortable here. I know. Do you have any cards?”
“Playing cards? I believe there is an old pack in the drawer over there,” said Jilly.
“Have you ever played cards?” asked Lord Paul.
“We were never allowed to,” said Mandy.
“Oh, all young ladies should know how to play a simple game of cards.”
Jilly rose and went and rummaged in the desk and came back with a pack. Her green eyes glinted. “Are you going to teach us?”
Lord Ranger smiled and nodded.
Lady Harrington gently pushed open the door of the drawing room half an hour later. Lord Ranger, Lord Paul, Jilly, and Mandy were seated around a rickety card table, which they had placed in front of the fire. Mandy was scowling ferociously down at her cards, and Lord Paul was watching her with a look in his eyes that Lady Harrington could not fathom, but she retired and quietly closed the door.
She went upstairs and roused her sleeping husband. “We have two extra for dinner,” she said triumphantly.
“Who? What?” he demanded groggily.
“We have Lord Ranger and Lord Paul. They did not go back with those two awful cats, who, if you ask me, ruined those gowns deliberately, and if they think they have heard the last of it, they have not. I am sending Lady Harriet’s parents a bill, for the gowns and for the ruined carpet.”
Sir John blinked up at her. “That’s a bit hard, ain’t it? Women are always fainting.”
“I tell you, that was deliberate, but it was worth it, for I think it has given our lords a disgust of them. Do you think it would be too pushing if I sent Jimmy over to Colonel Tenby’s with a request that their night rails and evening clothes be packed up and brought back? Well, perhaps not their evening clothes, for a certain informality leads to intimacy, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s all headed for disaster,” said Sir John. “They are both fine fellows and were, I believe, brave soldiers. But they will marry their own kind if they marry at all, and not two young misses with dreadful Puritan parents who probably have supplied them with very little dowry.”
“Why? The Davenports are very rich.”
“And mean with it. But do what you like, my sweeting. You always do.”
By the time both guests sat down to dinner, they took the news that Lady Harrington had sent for their night clothes and a change of linen with equanimity.
Jilly was worried. Lord Paul, his black eyes dancing, was flirting very cleverly with Mandy, and Mandy’s eyes were like stars. What would happen at the ball when she saw him dancing off with Lucinda? For Jilly was very much of Sir John’s opinion that both men would marry their own kind if they married at all.
So when Lord Ranger smiled at her and said she was looking remarkably beautiful, she said curtly, “Fustian. There is no need to flirt with me, my lord. Such a very uncomfortable thing to do when you don’t mean a word of it.” And Lord Ranger noticed that Jilly looked severely at Lord Paul as she said it.
Now instead of Lord Paul worrying about Lord Ranger, it was the other way around. Lord Ranger felt protective about the girls. If Mandy became spoony about Paul, it would ruin her Christmas.
But he said with automatic gallantry to Jilly, “On the contrary, I meant every word of it,” and his eyes began to dance when she looked straight at him and said, “Pooh!”
“You have to be kind to me,” said Lord Ranger. “You are in my debt for life. You lost ten thousand pounds to me at cards.”
“You will need to take me to court, my lord, for I have no intention of paying you.”
He dropped his voice. “You could pay me in kind.”
“Barter, my lord?” She put her chin on her hand and regarded him thoughtfully. “What do I have that you want?”
His gaze dropped to her soft pink mouth. “Your lips.”
He cursed himself immediately the words were out, for her face flamed almost as red as her hair.
“Forgive me,” he said contritely. “I am a hardened flirt.”
The color died out of Jilly’s face and she said in a sad little voice, “I know. You are both flirts.”
“I thought every woman loved a rake,” he teased.
“Not this one,” said Jilly. “Oh, you are spoiling this evening with your nonsense. Shall we play cards again after dinner? I am sure I am beginning to understand it, and I do want to win that money back.”
“You shall have your revenge,” he promised.
And so they played again after dinner while Lady Harrington knitted in the corner and her son, James, his wife, and baby, who had been visiting neighbors, returned to join them.
I would like a home like this, thought Lord Ranger suddenly. And the children would not be confined to the nursery either. But where would he find a wife like Lady Harrington, who seemed to take unexpected guests in her stride and who filled the very rooms with her own generous personality?
And then his eyes fell on Jilly. She was bending over her hand of cards. A loose red curl lay on her cheek. One of the old dogs lumbered up and put its heavy head
on her knee, and she reached down and patted it. She had a rare beauty, he mused. One kept discovering bits of it each time. There was first of all the glory of her hair and eyes. Then there was the soft swell of that young bosom, then the slim curve of the hip. Her animation, her joy in everything, gave her grace and color.
Jilly looked up suddenly and their eyes met. She felt she was drowning in that gaze, slipping down into a world of feelings where she had no control.
“Pay attention to your game, my lord,” she said, but she played very badly for the rest of the evening, even worse than before, and rose from the table owing Lord Ranger fifty thousand pounds.
Chapter 5
Margaret, Belinda, and their escorts, Mr. Travers and Mr. Jensen, arrived the following day, the girls bringing ball gowns with them.
Jilly and Mandy were in raptures over the pretty muslin dresses. Jilly’s was pale green, and Mandy’s, pale blue. The delight in being able to wear colors, in admiring the fine stitching and embroidery, made both of them give Belinda and Margaret impulsive hugs. And the only thing to dim the rest of the day for Jilly and Mandy was the absence of Lord Paul and Lord Ranger. When they went skating in the pond, now a circle of black glass surrounded by sparkling white snow, Jilly and Mandy’s eyes kept straying in the direction of the road, both hoping to hear the sound of horses’ hooves. There was no reason for them not to come. The bright sunlight of yesterday had melted the snow on the roads. Now all they had to worry about was that it would snow again before the ball and that they would be unable to reach Moreton-in-Marsh.
Jilly thought a lot about Lord Ranger, about the way their eyes had met. She did not want to end up as worried and longing as Mandy and kept trying to turn her mind to other things. But he seemed to have become stamped on her mind: his eyes, his smile, the light tan of his skin and the strength of his hands.
If only something would happen to Harriet and Lucinda to stop them from going to that ball. Jilly was in no doubt that the ruin of the ball gowns had been deliberate. At least they had shot their bolt. After such a dreadful thing, they would not dare try anything else.