Kissed in the Dark

by Gloria Gay

  KISSED IN THE DARK

  Gloria Gay

  CHAPTER 1

  London, 1816

  Cecilia Sentenell was doing some last minute bookkeeping in readiness for her and her father's trip to London to partake of the social season. She had just finished her meeting with the estate's agent, Calloway, when Jonathon, her father's most trusted footman, knocked on her door.

  “Miss Sentenell,” said Jonathon, “one of the tenants' wives wishes to speak with you, a Mrs. Kenty.”

  “Mrs. Kenty? Oh, yes, Jonathon, Becky and Jimmy's mothershow her into the study.”

  “Mrs. Kenty,” said Cecilia as Mrs. Kenty walked into the study. “Please sit down.” Mrs. Kenty's husband had been one of the soldiers who had returned home lately, with a limp and a cough, but at least had come back with his life. Many others had not been as fortunate.

  “No, mum, I'll just stand here if you don't mind. I best say wha' I have to say and get back home, Mrs. Miles is taking care of the children while I come 'ere.”

  “Is something the matter?”

  “Oh, Miss Sentenell. My Bill told me as how you brought your own doctor to see Jimmy and I'm ever so grateful to you. In a huner' years I wouldna be payin' ye such a favor, Miss.”

  “How is Jimmy, is he improving?”

  “It's the medicine, Miss, he doesna swallow itspits it right out! I even tried forcing him.”

  “If he doesn't take his medicine he can't get better, Mrs. Kenty. Whooping cough is very dangerous. Perhaps I should go back with you and see Jimmy.”

  “Oh, mum, would you?” Mrs. Kenty wrung her hands and beamed a grateful smile.

  * * *

  “Jimmy, my sweet,” said Cecilia as she entered the two-room cottage.

  “Cecilia!” Little Becky Kenty ran and put her arms around Cecilia's legs. “Why haven't you come? You said you would tell us another story.”

  “I haven't had much time, my sweet, I've been very busy. We are to go to London soon.”

  “Don’t go, Ceci,” said four-year-old Jimmy in a frail voice from the bed. “Please, Ceci, Becky and I don't want you to go.”

  “My sweet dears,” Cecilia assured them, on seeing that tears had sprung to their eyes. “I shall be back soon and I'll bring you each a surprise from London. Meanwhile, I have a big bag of sugar plums for you, to keep you until you get your gifts. But Jimmy, you cannot eat sugar plums if you are coughing all the time, now can you?”

  “When will you…” Jimmy was racked with a coughing fit. Alarmed, Cecilia brought some water for him to drink.

  “See, my dear, you cannot get better unless you take your medicine.”

  “Ittastestastes bad“

  “I don't think there is any medicine that tastes good, my sweet, but it will take away the cough. Will you do it for me?”

  “If I do will you promise to stay a while?”

  “Yes. I'll stay, but I must see you take your medicine first. And I also want you to promise me you will take it each time your mum says you should. Now put your hand over your heart, like this, and promise.”

  “I promise,” said Jimmy solemnly, with his little hand over his heart. “I'll take it even if it tastes awfulfor you, Ceci!”

  “Why are you going to London, Ceci?” asked little Becky.

  “We-e-ll,” said Cecilia, “I haveto goI have to rescue my prince.”

  “Girls don't rescue princes, silly,” said Becky, then asked. “From where, Ceci?”

  “From the wilderness.”

  “What's wilder“

  “The woods, my sweet.”

  “You must let the prince rescue you, Ceci,” said Jimmy feebly.

  “All right,” laughed Cecilia, “I'll let him rescue me too.”

  “Will you tell us the story of Sleeping Beauty again,” asked Becky, a hopeful look in her large blue eyes.

  * * *

  The following few days, Cecilia took care of the last details that must be dealt with before they could leave for London.

  She gave the estate's agent, Calloway, instructions that would hold him the few weeks she and her father, Sir Geoffrey Sentenell, were to be away.

  Cecilia had eased into the job of running the estate hardly knowing she was doing so, for during the preceding year her father's health had deteriorated. Little by little she had found herself taking over more of the estate work that her father had done in the past. At first, it was just writing a letter or two for Sir Geoffrey on estate business because Sir Geoffrey's hand was too stiff to write, then it would be adding a column of figures, then a meeting with the estate agent or a merchant.

  Cecilia had read the books in her father's library twice over and had often gone hunting with her father when her father was still in good health. Sir Geoffrey, lacking a son, had taught her to ride a horse and handle a pistol and a sword as well as any man. That was why when his health deteriorated, she had slipped into the job he had done before with the greatest ease.

  Often, Sir Geoffrey's pain did not permit him to rise from his bed. When this happened, Cecilia's heart was heavy and she dared not think too closely on her father's illness. Dr. Jelvian only prescribed compresses for his hand and herbal tea for his pain, neither of which did him any good.

  Then Lady Rolande, an old friend of her mother's and her daughter Hedra, had arrived one day from Derbyshire and things had changed for the better. Sir Geoffrey's spirits rose and the packets of medicine Lady Rolande provided took away the pain and restored his energy.

  Lady Rolande had suggested to Sir Geoffrey that Sir Geoffrey and Cecilia accompany her and Hedra to London, for the season. She convinced Sir Geoffrey that Cecilia could better find a husband in London than in Nottingham. She also suggested that it would be wise to see to the leasing of a house in London as soon as possible so that he might not run the risk of not finding a suitable one.

  Sir Geoffrey agreed right away. Not only did he want to please their new friend, who had done so much for him, but he often worried that Cecilia might be unmarried when he died. So he asked Cecilia to write a letter to his solicitor in London, so that the leasing of the house could be done as soon as possible.

  Cecilia, who had never once thought of partaking of the London season, began to dream about fashionable clothes and dancing in glittering ballrooms.

  Cecilia was nineteen and only a few months from twenty, and felt that perhaps she was a bit old for a “coming out.” But Lady Rolande had scoffed at her doubts.

  “Ellen Drake was twenty-one in her come out last year and nobody thought much of it, my dear. And you do look three years younger. It's not necessary to go to the expense of presenting you in court, as the Queen is ill at present and is not receiving and King George is in seclusion. The Prince, as everyone knows, hardly leaves Brighton.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “Girls, girls!” said Lady Rolande. “Look over at that carriage. But just see, there, the yellow phaeton! It's the Earl of Arandale, one of the most eligible bachelors of the season, and so handsome he makes me wish I was twenty years younger!”

  It was a week after their arrival in London and Cecilia Sentenell was riding in Hyde Park at the peak hour, with Lady Rolande and Lady Rolande’s daughter, Hedra. Lady Rolande was pointing at the occupants of a high phaeton that was passing by in the opposite direction.

  “Do you know, him, Mama? Can you introduce him to us?” asked, Hedra, eagerly, craning her neck.

  “Well, I have not been introduced to him myself, but I believe we can find someone to introduce us, I am not without connections!” said Lady Rolande, and added, “But only see, how he flaunts his mistress!”

  At that very moment, Arandale looked straight at them and then leaned over and kissed the woman at his side full in t
he mouth.

  Cecilia glanced with distaste at the tableau. She settled back in her seat and tried hard to ignore the earl's carriage and the others in her own carriage, as well.

  In the few days they had been in London, Lady Rolande and her daughter Hedra's behavior had caused Cecilia embarrassment on several occasions. It had not taken Cecilia long to realize that perhaps coming to London had been a mistake. No season in London was worth putting up with Hedra's crass manners and rude comments, many of them directed at Cecilia, and Lady Rolande's inability to rein her in.

  Cecilia's mother had died three years before and her father had gone into deep mourning that had lasted for so long that Cecilia had wondered if he would ever come out of his deep sadness. His depression had triggered an illness in him and when before he had been in the best of health, he now struggled each day with increasing pain.

  Cecilia reminded herself that it was Lady Rolande who had lifted Sir Geoffrey out of depression and out of his mourning, made him laugh again and had provided miraculous medicine for his rheumatic pain. Sir Geoffrey had begun to lose the use of his right hand and he now walked with a slight limp.

  Lady Rolande often diverted them with anecdotes of the past she had shared with Cecilia’s mother when they were both girls in Derbyshire.

  Cecilia could not remember her mother having once mentioned Lady Rolande but she did not think to doubt Lady Rolande, for she had shown them a miniature of her and her mother as girls. Yet it had not taken Cecilia long to realize how different Lady Rolande and her daughter Hedra’s values and outlook were from hers.

  Her father hardly remembered Lady Rolande, if at all. But then, her father was not a very social person.

  Lady Rolande spoke a lot about her friendship with Cecilia’s mother when they were both girls. She seemed to know so much about Lady Sentenell that it would have been impossible to doubt that she had been her close friend.

  As the phaeton pulled away and Lady Rolande motioned to her driver to proceed, Hedra sighed audibly.

  “What a man,” she said, referring to Lord Arandale. “To be married to such a man would be happiness indeed!”

  “I would not be married to him for all the gold of Croesus,” said Cecilia, turning away in disgust. “He is a stranger to propriety.”

  “Oh, don’t be a fuddy-duddy, Cecilia, you’re just gamboling me. Of course you would jump at the chance of becoming the Countess of Arandale. Who wouldn’t?”

  “I assure you I would not.”

  “Mama, would not Cecilia jump at the chance of becoming a countess? Bear me out.”

  “Girls…this bickering,” protested Lady Rolande. “We came here to see and be seen. You are wasting valuable time.”

  “Cecilia is false in pretending she would not want to become a countess. I cannot believe it for a moment, can you, Mama?”

  “Hedra, hush.”

  “Cecilia. You do not answer. Have you heard what I said about you wanting to become a countess?”

  “I assure you I did hear you, Hedra,” said Cecilia, “at least the first six times.”

  “You would so want to become a countess. If you say you do not you are lying.”

  “You're becoming tedious, Hedra. Can we not talk about you marrying the Earl of Arandale, instead?”

  “Why, that is altogether to my liking,” Hedra clapped. “There is no doubt I would accomplish it, should I set my mind to it.”

  “Yes, I’m certain of it,” said Cecilia.

  “Girls,” said Lady Rolande, “Just look at Lady Haeling’s new carriage. It must have cost a fortune. And her purple turban to match, why she looks an eastern potentate and just as...”

  “And just as massive,” said Hedra.

  “Quiet…” whispered her mother fiercely, “…you are speaking loudly, Hedra. Lady Haeling almost heard you! You must hold your tongue in future. It would not do to have Lady Haeling against you. She is a close friend of Countess Lieven.”

  * * *

  Once the priceless vouchers for Almack’s had been secured, the season stretched ahead as a fairyland of pure enjoyment for Cecilia, and she tried not to let Hedra spoil her enjoyment. After all, Hedra was often out chasing eligible bachelors and Cecilia was able to visit sights she had longed to see accompanied by her personal maid, Mary, and followed closely by one of their footmen, Jonathon.

  At first, Cecilia had protested so much protection, but on their third time out, after being assaulted by vagrants while she and Mary were on Bond Street shopping, she had changed her mind. One of them had tried to snatch their packages and another their reticules. It was only through the interference of two gentlemen who had witnessed the scene that they were saved. The gentlemen had chased away the vagrants, threatening to call the Magistrate’s soldiers.

  After that, Cecilia was glad of Jonathon's company in her and Mary's outings, to her father's relief and surprise.

  “I’m all for having Jonathon accompany me everywhere, Papa. In fact, it empowers me. I feel I can even walk in Whitechapel or venture into gambling hells and“

  “Ceci!” Her father stared at her horrified.

  “I'm funning you, Papa, don't frown so. But Jonathon isa blessing. Gentlemen can carry a loaded pistol or a swordI take Jonathon along!”

  “Jonathon and his pistol,” said Sir Geoffrey happily. “London is a dangerous place to live in. I wonder people actually live here all year. I cannot take more than the few weeks the season lasts.”

  Martha Bedder, a cousin of Sir Geoffrey's, was to arrive in a fortnight. She was to make her home with them and be a chaperone to Cecilia. And after they left London for Brintelway Hall, Martha would also be with them for she had been widowed a year before and was happy to be offered a home by her cousin, Sir Geoffrey.

  As Mary worked on her hair, Cecilia’s mind drifted to the night when she had seen Lord Arandale for the second time, at the first Almack's ball of the season. Why must the image of that man pop into her head uninvited? The thought of him only made her apprehensive and tense. But her mind ruthlessly stayed on him.

  Even above the chatter of Lady Rolande’s daughter, Hedra, Cecilia had felt a buzz of conversation suddenly lift like a wave. She noticed that people were craning their necks toward the entrance and curious, she did too, as Hedra, for once, was silent.

  She was surprised to see that the cause of the commotion was the tall figure of a man with dark hair, broad shoulders encased in dark Bath superfine that contrasted with snowy linen and an impeccably folded neck cloth. She glanced at his face and saw instantly that he was the same man they had seen in the Park a few days after their arrival in Londonthe Earl of Arandalethe man she had disliked on sight.

  She remembered how both Lady Rolande and Hedra had drooled over him, while she had developed an instant dislike of him. She was certain that he had kissed his mistress in the mouth when he was certain the occupants of Lady Rolande's carriage had turned to look at him.

  She noticed that the points of his collar were normal, and not the absurd heights that many dandies favored. His coat, too, was free of the fobs and seals young men of fashion encumbered their coats with. But it was the face above the collar that held her gaze for a few seconds. He seemed different now, dressed formally in black and white. Yet as Cecilia, gazed carefully for the first time at his features, she realized there was recklessness to his eyes, like he had seen and done too much.

  She remembered the words that first sprang to her mind on seeing him thus that second time: pity the girl who marries him, for he will always be shared with lightskirts. But now she thought otherwise. No one could ever possess his heart. It was as if there was a wall in front of him and if you reached to his face you would be able touch it, a wall that would prevent you from seeing into his eyes, or knowing what he was thinking. She remembered that as a child, while trespassing on the adjoining estate, she had run into a high wall and had been greatly curious as to what lay behind it. She had never found out because shortly after that they had mov
ed to London for a year, when her mother had become extremely ill. Yet that high wall had become a recurring dream from which Cecilia sometimes awoke. The wall that seemed to be in front of Arandale’s eyes reminded her of the wall of her recurring dream.

  CHAPTER 3

  Cecilia now became aware of the comments from girls pressing around her, and her eyes took note of the arrogant proud air of the man who seemed to have captured everyone’s attention.

  Cecilia had been at several functions where the Prince had made an appearance. The Prince Regent was referred to by several nicknames such as “Florizel” and, “Prinny” and his dalliances were laughed at and his exploits ridiculed.

  No such thing seemed to be happening now. Lord

  Arandale commanded the respect and fawning admiration of both men and women alike. She noted with distaste how carelessly he ignored the admiration he was receiving as he walked by. He had been spoiled from birth up, thought Cecilia.

  An image of him kissing his mistress in full view of the ton flashed again through her mind unpleasantly. She could not imagine a man whom she would ever be less attracted to than the Earl of Arandale. Cecilia moved away from Hedra and a bit and closer to three other girls who had become slight acquaintances. But finding that they, too, found nothing else to talk about than the Earl of Arandale, she glanced around the room, enjoying the scene and appreciating the gowns of the girls who were moving slowly around, waiting for the opening dance. That was why she was surprised when Countess Lieven, one of the Patronesses of Almack's, approached her and the other three girls.

  Countess Lieven’s eyes were beaming, as she was in the arm of Arandale.

  “Ah, girls,” she said to Cecilia and the other girls, “allow me to introduce to you his lordship, Justin Alanston, the Earl of Arandale. Your lordship, this is Mima Davenport.” She motioned to Mima Davenport and that girl came forward to be introduced, an eager look in her eyes.

  Lord Arandale greeted Miss Davenport, spoke briefly, bowed slightly and moved to the next one. In such a manner he went through the introductions of the several girls that waited, with a comment here and there about the London season or the ball. Cecilia, unable to escape, stood rooted to her spot, waiting her turn, for she was the last of the line of girls.