* * *
There was no escaping talk of the forthcoming nuptials for the rest of the evening or the following week. Molly could only be glad no one had noticed that she and Russ had been absent from the ballroom for more than an hour. Her head told her that she must now put that whole incident behind her, but her heart refused to obey. She wanted Russ more than ever and it was impossible to avoid him in the town, or at Newlands, where Edwin and Molly dined three times in almost as many days. It was a struggle to keep her eyes from following Russ as he moved across a room, or to converse with him calmly, when her whole body cried out for his touch. Her only consolation was his announcement that he had urgent business in London and must leave Compton Parva as soon as the betrothal party was over.
* * *
Word of the engagement had even reached Prospect House, as Molly discovered when she met Fleur and Nancy after the Sunday service at All Souls.
‘And what a good thing it is we persuaded Gerald not to invite me,’ said Fleur, glancing around to make sure there was no one near enough to overhear. ‘I understand a report on the ball and the announcement was sent to the Herald and they will doubtless send it on to the London papers. Miss Hebden told me the Herald always gives a full list of guests at any such occasion. Just imagine how it would have been if I had gone and if Papa had read of it.’
‘If, if,’ exclaimed Nancy impatiently. ‘You didn’t go and there’s an end to it. Instead of worrying about what might have been, you should be telling Molly your own news.’
‘Sir Gerald has proposed?’ Molly asked quickly.
‘Shh.’ Fleur was blushing furiously. ‘Yes, he has. He had spoken of it a week ago, but I told him I could not accept his offer without his sister’s blessing. Then Agnes announced her engagement and he was emboldened to discuss it with her yesterday, and he rode over directly to tell me that she has no objections, so now we are to be married. But it is still a secret, Molly. Apart from Nancy, you are the only one who knows of it at present, and I would be obliged if you did not make it generally known, if you please, but—oh, Molly, was ever anything so wonderful?’
No, thought Molly, stifling a sharp stab of self-pity. She did not begrudge her brother and her friends their happiness, but it threw into sharp relief her own predicament and the growing realisation that she had lost her heart to a rake.
* * *
Molly did not see Sir Gerald again until market day, when she returned to the vicarage just as he was leaving. She greeted him with a smile and asked him if he had come upon his sister’s business, or his own.
‘So Fleur has told you,’ he declared, relief in his voice. ‘I hope we have your blessing?’
‘Of course. Does this mean we will be arranging a double wedding?’
His face clouded. ‘I should like that, but Fleur lives in fear of her father. She knows he is still searching and is afraid if the banns are read for three weeks he will find her before we can be married. That is one of the reasons we are not making any announcement, in case the scandal sheets should get wind of it. I have been discussing the matter with Edwin and we are agreed that a licence would be the very thing. He has told me he is meeting with the bishop at Nidderton very soon and has promised to discuss it with him then.’
‘I suppose you have told Mr Russington?’ said Molly, trying to sound casual.
He paused. ‘As a matter of fact I haven’t. Russ has been more than a little discouraging about the whole affair. When he learned I was serious, he even suggested Fleur might only be interested in my money! That quite upset me, I can tell you, and we haven’t mentioned the matter since. But to be truthful, the fewer people who know of it the better. You know what servants are like and in a small place like Compton Parva once word gets out...’
‘Yes, I do know.’ So Russ had tried to dissuade his friend from pursuing Fleur. Molly felt more than a little guilty for asking him to do so. She tried not to think of the inducement she had offered him, nor his indignant refusal. She said now, ‘But he is your close friend, Sir Gerald. You should tell him.’
‘I will, of course, but he has been so out of temper this past week he has bitten my head off for the slightest thing! No, once Edwin has spoken to the bishop, then I shall ask Russ to be my groomsman and also to go with me to make the application.’ A rueful twinkle came into his eyes. ‘Given his reputation and my own, I think perhaps I am wise to have your brother speak to the bishop for me, don’t you think?’
‘I do, but Edwin told me that his business will keep him away for a week, at least,’ said Molly. ‘How will you bear the wait?’
Gerald caught her hands. ‘Bless you for your concern, Molly. Your brother has promised to write as soon as it is agreed, then we may be easy. Not that there will be an unseemly rush to the altar,’ he added, looking as stern as was possible for such an easy-going gentleman. ‘I will have no hint of scandal attached to Fleur. I am in no way ashamed of my future bride and mean to reinstate her into her proper place in society. I swear to you, Molly, that Fleur’s well-being is and always will be paramount to me.’
With that he went off, leaving Molly convinced that her friend could not be anything but happy with such a caring husband.
* * *
No one observing Russ’s calm and smiling demeanour on Friday evening would have known that he would rather have been anywhere than at the King’s Head. He stood with the Newlands party and watched as Agnes and Edwin received the congratulations of each new arrival.
‘This is such a happy time,’ declared Serena, who was standing beside him. She gave a little laugh and took his arm. ‘I do hope there will be another announcement shortly, Russ.’
Russ glanced down sharply. ‘What makes you say that?’
Her limpid look was innocence itself. ‘Just the way two people have been behaving recently.’
She certainly could not mean Molly and himself, for they had barely spoken two words together all evening. He allowed his eyes to shift to where Molly was standing beside her brother. She was wearing another new creation, this time of plum-red satin over a white petticoat.
‘Molly looks very well tonight, do you not think?’ murmured Serena, following his gaze. ‘She has changed a great deal since I first met her. Very much like a butterfly, in all her new finery.’
Russ did not reply. The vicar and his fiancée were taking to the floor for the first dance and he wondered if he might ask Molly to stand up with him, but before he could move, Gerald had stepped up and Molly was taking his hand and smiling up at him, her cheeks gently flushed. Not for the first time in recent weeks Russ felt a stab of jealousy towards his oldest friend.
Serena squeezed his arm. ‘Since quite the prettiest lady in the room is engaged, you had best stand up with me,’ she told him.
Hiding his frustration beneath a smile, Russ led his sister out to join one of the sets. The dance seemed interminably long and when it ended he spotted Molly crossing the room to talk to Sir William and Lady Currick, who had just arrived with their daughter.
When Serena begged him to take her over to speak to Nell Currick, he was only too pleased to oblige, but as they came up, Sir William carried Molly off to join the next set. Robbed of a second chance to dance with Molly, Russ excused himself quickly before Serena could suggest he stand up with Nell or her mother. He moved away to the side of the room, where he stood, watching the dancing and trying hard not to scowl. Hell and damnation, he was behaving like a mooncalf, something he had vowed he would never do over any woman. Molly, meanwhile, appeared to be enjoying herself immensely. Serena was right. Dressed in her bright new gowns she was indeed the prettiest woman in the room. Damn her.
* * *
Molly wished she might stop smiling but she knew Russ was watching her and she was determined not to give him any clue that she was unhappy. When her dance with Sir William ended, she thought Russ might ask her to dance with him, bu
t instead she saw him leading out Agnes Kilburn. Molly would have liked to sit out the next dance, but pride would not allow her to refuse when Mr Sykes asked her to stand up with him.
* * *
There was a break in the dancing after that and Molly accompanied Mr and Mrs Sykes to the refreshment room. She was helping herself to a glass of lemonade when she heard the familiar deep voice at her shoulder.
‘You are quite the belle of the ball this evening, Mrs Morgan.’
She turned to Russ and made a little curtsy.
‘La, thank you, sir. I shall take that as a compliment.’
‘You have certainly been too busy to dance with me, have you not?’
His eyes were glinting and the slight upward curve to his lips caused her insides to flutter. The temptation was to smile back at him, maybe even hint that she was not engaged for any more dances, but Molly was not ready to make her peace with him yet. She must show him that she was immune to his charms.
‘It is gratifying to be in such demand as a dance partner,’ she said airily. ‘I do not know when I have enjoyed dancing more.’
‘And will you honour me with your hand for one of the next dances, madam?’
She widened her eyes. ‘Oh, heavens, I cannot make any promises, Mr Russington. I do not know yet who may ask me to stand up with them.’
‘Would you not prefer to dance with me?’
He moved closer, unnerving her, and she said sharply, ‘I have no preferences, Mr Russington.’
‘No? Surely all this new finery is aimed at finding a husband.’
He was rattled. Molly knew she should be pleased, it gave her the upper hand, but instead she felt only a sick kind of misery that they had lost the easy-going camaraderie she had come to enjoy.
‘I have no wish for a husband,’ she told him, her voice low and angry. ‘And if I did, it would be a man of integrity, a man I could trust and who would make me comfortable. Certainly not a rake.’
She closed her lips firmly before any more rash words could escape. She had spoken to wound him and his silence and the muscle working in his cheek showed she might just have done it. At the very least she had made him angry.
‘This is plain-speaking indeed, madam.’
‘I find it best to speak honestly, sir, so there can be no misunderstanding. But our situation makes it necessary for us to be civil to one another, Mr Russington.’ She kept her smile in place as she met his eyes with a defiant look. ‘I hope we can continue to do that.’
‘Do you?
‘But of course.’ She gave a tinkling laugh, light and brittle as glass. ‘I would not have our friends and family think there is anything amiss between us.’
He smiled then, a cold, courteous smile that did not reach his eyes.
‘Nor I, madam. I think our family and friends can rest assured there is nothing between us.’
With a stiff little bow he walked away and not a moment too soon, for Molly felt her resolve crumbling and she turned away, blinking back tears. Serena and the others should be proud of her. She had shown the great Beau Russington that she did not care the snap of her fingers for him. Now all she wanted to do was to crawl away into a dark corner and cry.
After that things went from bad to worse. She was standing with Mr and Mrs Thomas when she saw Russ approaching her and in a fit of pique worthy of a schoolgirl, she put her nose in the air and turned her back upon him.
Foolish woman. Cutting off your nose to spite your face!
Ashamed of her own behaviour, she excused herself from dancing with anyone else and made her way towards the door, eager to be alone.
‘Molly, are you quite well?’
Serena was at her side and looking anxiously at her.
‘I need a little air, that is all.’
‘You cannot go out alone,’ said Serena, taking her arm.
‘I am not going very far,’ said Molly, desperate for solitude. ‘And no one will see me if I remain on the balcony.
‘But you might be taken ill. I shall come with you.’
Unequal to the fight, Molly allowed Serena to accompany her out of the assembly rooms. The outer doors led on to the balcony and from there a flight of stairs ran down to the yard so that patrons might enter and leave the rooms without passing through the inn itself. Molly stepped out into the cool air, thankful for the shadows thrown up from the lanterns that illuminated the yard below them.
Serena wrinkled her nose. ‘Are you sure you want to stay out here? All I can smell is the stables.’
‘But it is cooler.’
‘True. Are you not enjoying yourself, Molly?’
‘I think I am a little tired,’ she replied. ‘I am not accustomed to dancing so much.’
Serena chuckled. ‘Our plan to transform you has worked beautifully. And Russ has been watching you all evening.’
‘I do not want him to watch me,’ Molly retorted, feeling that tears were very close. ‘I merely want him to go away.’
Serena turned towards her and took her hands. ‘Is that truly what you want, Molly? I thought you loved my brother.’
Swallowing hard, Molly averted her gaze, staring down into the yard. ‘Of...of course not. He is not at all the sort of man to suit me.’
With my provincial morals and good deeds.
‘Well, that is a shame,’ sighed Serena, ‘because I think you are just the sort of woman Russ needs.’
If only that were true, thought Molly sadly.
Below her, a dusty travelling chaise clattered over the cobbles and the yard burst into life. Ostlers ran to the horses and the landlord came bustling out to open the carriage door, bowing low as an elderly man climbed out. There was something vaguely familiar about the portly, bewigged figure and instead of turning away to answer Serena she moved a little closer to the rail. The old man’s strident voice carried clearly up to her.
‘My name is Dellafield. I sent ahead to bespeak a room for the night.’
‘Dellafield,’ said Serena, beside her. ‘Isn’t that the name of the housekeeper at—’
Molly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the shadows.
‘Serena,’ she hissed, ‘promise me you will not say a word about this.’
‘If you wish, but—’
‘Promise!’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
Molly nodded, her mind racing. ‘Let us go back inside. And, Serena, remember, I rely upon you not to say a word to anyone!’
* * *
They returned to the ballroom to find the music had stopped and Sir William Currick was standing on a chair, congratulating Miss Kilburn and Mr Frayne upon their engagement. All eyes were on the speaker and Molly made her way through the crowd until she was beside Sir Gerald. She plucked at his sleeve and drew him to the side of the room, where she quickly explained what she had overheard.
‘So Fleur’s father has found her,’ he exclaimed.
‘Not necessarily,’ Molly said slowly. ‘It’s more likely he saw my name or Edwin’s on the list of guests at your ball. The Dellafields were our neighbours in Hertfordshire, and Fleur and I were at school together. Having tried all other avenues, perhaps he hopes Fleur and I may have kept in touch.’
‘Even if you do not tell him it is only a matter of time before he learns about Prospect House.’ Gerald was thinking quickly, one fist thudding into his palm. ‘I must delay no longer—once Fleur is my wife, I shall be able to protect her. Come, Molly, let us find your brother. Fleur and I will go with him to see the bishop tomorrow.’
But Edwin had by this time replaced Sir William on the chair and was making a speech of thanks. They were obliged to wait until he had finished before they could pull him to one side and explain what had happened.
‘I shall send word to Prospect House this very night,’ said Gerald, ‘and we will accompany you to Ni
dderton in the morning. Once we have the licence we can be married there and then Fleur will be safe.’
Edwin put out his hands. ‘I wish that were possible, Gerald, but my meeting is tomorrow morning. If I am not to be late, then I must be leaving Compton Parva before dawn and on horseback. I delayed my departure so I might attend this party with Agnes, you see.’
‘Then we will follow on in the carriage at daybreak,’ Gerald stated. ‘You will come with us, will you not, Molly? I will not have any hint of impropriety attending Fleur. Not only do we have to drive in a closed carriage all the way to Nidderton, but we will be obliged to spend at least one night there before I can make her my wife.’ He took her hands. ‘Pray say you will do it, Molly. You are Fleur’s oldest friend. I know she will want you with her.’
‘Yes, I will come,’ she replied. ‘To tell the truth I shall be glad to be out of town when Fleur’s father comes calling!’
* * *
Across the room, Russ watched as Gerald kissed Molly’s hands, one after the other, saw her obvious pleasure at the gesture. A man of integrity. A man she could trust. Damnation, had she set her cap at him? Had Gerald been dangling after her all along and using Fleur Dellafield as a smokescreen? He turned away, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. He could no longer think clearly and the sooner this damned evening was over the better.
* * *
Edwin touched Molly’s arm. ‘My dear, I have sent for the carriage. I think it is time I was leaving. I have a very early start in the morning.’
‘Of course. I will collect my wrap and come with you.’
‘No, no, there is no need for that. Lady Currick or one of the other ladies will see you home. There will be at least two more dances. I pray you will stay and enjoy yourself.’
‘I have had all the enjoyment I shall get this evening,’ she said, trying and failing to make light of it.
Thankfully her brother was too preoccupied to notice. He glanced back across the room. ‘I think Gerald, too, would like to be going home and preparing for the morrow, but he knows it’s best to stay. He does not want to rouse any suspicions.’ He touched her arm. ‘I persuaded him he must tell Agnes about this before he leaves in the morning, but he is adamant that no one else should know of his plans at the present time, Molly, so we must be careful.’
The Ton's Most Notorious Rake Page 22