by Gloria Gay
“Then you bring up the subject, my dear.”
“That would not be as hard if I were certain Lord Arandale will sign my card in one of the dances. So far I have only one pledge, and one I would as soon not have—Shackel’s!”
“I would as soon dance with a pig as with Shackel,” said Martha frowning. “You could have said no.”
“I could, if I wanted to place Lady Rolande at odds with me. Remember, Martha, it is the medicine she procures for Papa that keeps him from those horrible pains.”
“Which brings me to a subject I have wanted to discuss with you, my dear,” said Martha. “Where is this physician we hear so much about but never see? Where is this doctor who prescribes sight unseen? I believe you must insist of Lady Rolande that your father must meet with the physician soon. This cannot go on like this indefinitely.”
“You're right, Martha. Come to think of it, she has changed the date of the meeting with the doctor at least four times! And now, I believe that is Papa’s bell. Let me go see what he needs and I shall return shortly.”
“While you are with him I shall see that the house is closed down earlier, Cecilia, for night is falling and it has gotten dark faster because of the rain.”
“Papa, how good that you are up, my dear,” said Cecilia on entering her father’s room, “I was hoping you would join us at our tea. Would you like that dear? May I summon Martha to your room so that we shall all three have a nice coze?”
“Yes, my dear,” said Sir Geoffrey, sitting up. “I feel so rested and would like to chat with you and Martha for a while, for I cannot again go to sleep after sleeping so long.”
“And you have no pain at the moment, my sweet?” asked Cecilia.
“None. That medicine Lady Rolande procures for me is miraculous.”
“You cannot imagine what happiness your words give me, dear Papa. Wait here, then and I shall summon Mary so that our tea can be brought to your room.”
“I was telling Martha, Papa,” said Cecilia when all three were settled with their tea, “that we may not be invited to Rolling Hills ever again.”
“I'm afraid you may be correct in that assumption, my dear,” said Sir Geoffrey, his voice frail. “And it saddens me so. Yet he has not answered my letter, Cecilia, in which I cancelled your courtship. I particularly asked him for his reply. That, at least, gives me hope.”
“You feel that the bulletin written by thatthat“
“Lady Cordell?” provided Martha.
“Yes. Everyone knows it is she who writes it, although she denies it,” said Cecilia.”
“Until Lord Arandale answers my letter, Cecilia, I will hold out hope. Perhaps you will be able to convince him you had nothing to do with it at Lord Belvedere’s ball.”
Cecilia wondered if she would ever be able to broach the subject of the gossip item with Lord Arandale. The words would probably freeze in her throat.
“That's what Martha believes, Papa, although it may be more difficult to accomplish if Lord Arandale does not ask me to dance.”
“But of course he will, of that I have no doubt.”
“And you will attend with us, Papa?”
“I can promise you that, my dear, judging for how well I feel today.” Although Sir Geoffrey's voice still sounded weak, he seemed in high spirits and in extreme contrast to how he had been before the medicine had been administered to him.
“Martha believes we should insist of Lady Rolande that she procure the meeting with the physician as soon as possible, Papa. She feels it is strange that Lady Rolande has cancelled the meeting four or five times. It makes me wonder if the doctor exists at all!”
“We cannot force Lady Rolande to haste,” said Sir Geoffrey, a fearful look fleeing across his face. “She has been extremely kind. We should let her go at her own pace. We must not insist she do something she may not be able to do. Promise me you will do nothing of the kind, my dear, but will let Lady Rolande arrange the meeting with the doctor when it's convenient for both, for she has assured me that physician has a very heavy schedule.”
“Yes, of course,” said Cecilia, with a quick glance at Martha. “You mustn’t upset yourself over it. Martha and I just thought to make a suggestion.”
CHAPTER 33
“Mr. Shackel“
“I've told you to call me Alex, Violet. I allow you that privilege.”
“YesAlAlex. Please, could I just“
“Just what? Are we going to go over that tedious rant again? I’m preparing for a ball and don't have time for this nonsense.”
“ButMama saidMama assured me, when Jake and I were near Gretna Green and you caught up with us. In Mama's letter she assured me Jake would not be harmed ifin fact that was the only reason I agreed to come back to London with you. In her letter Mama promised me“ Violet's voice broke and a shuddering sob shook her body.
“Did I promise you anything concerning Jake, Violet?”
When Violet said nothing but bowed her head, now sobbing quietly, the tears running down her smooth cheeks, Shackel took her face between his hands and pressed so hard Violet winced. “Did I?”
“No,” she finally said.
“Well, then. Other people cannot promise things in my name. Can they?”
“Don't you know where Jake is, Mr. ShackAlex?” asked Violet, and added, “I haven't seen him since that dayeven his mother hasn't. She's frantic!”
“Well, that should give you an idea what kind of man you were planning to elope with. It was a good thing I caught up with you, Violet, or you would now be married to that good for nothing bumpkinjust see how he abandoned you at the first sign of trouble, high-tailed it out of that place as fast as his legs could take him.”
“He didn'the would neveryou took me away from him. I hate you! What have you done with Jake? Where is he? I must know!”
“You must know?” asked Shackel. “That's what I like about you, Violet. You're a little tigress. I love making love to you for that reasonand many others,” he added, running his eyes over her figure. “But you must wait until I return from the ball. I must now concentrate my efforts on more refined flesh. Miss Sentenell awaits her destiny.”
“Miss who?” asked Violet between sobs.
“Never mind. It is no concern for your pretty little head. By the way, I've talked with Madam Cassaire, Violet. You can go there to get fitted for a few dresses tomorrow. I don't want my mistress to look raggedy, it would reflect badly on me. I have asked her to make a ball gown and domino for you for next week, too–and a mask. We are going to a private party at Vauxhall Gardens Friday next. Also, my sweet, I have asked her to sew some very tiny nightgowns that I can see you through. Black and red, I think would become you. I so admire your slim yet voluptuous body.”
Violet turned away from him with a feeling of revulsion so swift in her throat that she was afraid she was going to vomit right in front of him. He forced himself on her and called it love-making. He had forced her from the first day on.
Alex left and Violet, sobbing still, went in search of her mother.
“How could you have done this to me?” she asked her mother. “I'm worried sick about Jake, I haven't heard from him in three weeks. Where can he be? Did Shackel kill him? Do you know something you're not telling me?”
“No…,” said her mother, but turned away so that Violet could not see the worried look in her eyes. “Jake's probably out near Gretna Green still, unable to secure passage back. You shouldn’t worry about him, Vi. And what you said about Shackel killing himyou're out of your mind saying things that someone can hearand don't ever say something like that to him. I once said something of the sort and he near as beat the hell out of me. I wasn't able to get out of bed for a week. Be careful what you say to Shackel, Vi, please. And it would behoove you to forget about Jake and the sooner the better. And stop asking Shackel about Jake. He can get very violent sometimes if you displease him. Don’t think that because he doesn’t hit you now he won
’t in the future.”
“I must find out where Jake is,” said Violet, her voice shaking. “You assured me Shackel would not harm him.”
“He told me that,” said Sadie, a fearful look in her eyes. I suppose he only did to get you to come back. Violet, you must stop insisting on it. Alex is not one to be crossed. At least you have everything you need and more. Do you want to be out in the mean streets or in the slums of the Rookery with nothing to eat? Your brother is in a safe place and sees the doctor once a month. Do it for Calvin, if you will not do it for me, Vi. Do you want to see your brother die?”
“I want to know that Jake is not dead.”
“Well you're not likely to and the sooner you forget about him the better.
“Who is Miss Sentenell?”
“Miss Sentenell? Where did you hear that? “
“Shackel mentioned her.”
“She's probably that chit he's after, the one's the daughter to Sir Geoffrey from who he's to inherit. Cecilia, I think her name is. They're friends of Lady Rolande, the one's who's so thick with Alex. I heard them once discuss the girl’s enormous inheritance from her grandmother.”
“Where are they now? Did they lease a house in London?”
“I don't know, Vi. And what's it to you anyhow? I know that Alex is likely not going to get his wish. Lord Arandale is after that girl.”
“Lord Arandale?”
“You don't know him, Vi, but you know of his uncle, Lord KellyHarding.”
“Oh yes. How can I forgetlover number three?”
“I brought food to the table and clothes for you and Calvin, Vi. Life here in London is hard. We would have been out on the street begging or worse, in the workhouse, if the Lord hadn't seen fit to bless me with this face. And you too, Vi, even more than me. You're as beautiful as a perfect rose. Take advantage of it while you can.”
“Yes,” said Violet, a bitter look in her eyes. “My beauty. Something to sell, like the apples old Will sells at the corner. And my face now belongs to that hideous monster you took up with, who now forces me…” Violet put her hands to her face as the tears streamed under her hands.
“These are the apples I was born with Vi,” said her mother grasping her own full breasts. It's the only thing I have to sell.”
“Yes,” said Violet, her blue eyes clouding, “and you must sell them again and again.”
“It gave you an education Vi, I saw to that“
“Yes. An education so that I can see clearly what I have been forced to becomea kept whore. Yes, an education is a valuable thing. It can make you see your situation very well, indeed,” she said bitterly.
“Vi, don't talk like that!”
“What happened to Lord Kellynumber three? Why did he last such a short time? He's the only one I ever liked.”
“And well you should, Vi, well you should,'cause he's“
“He's what?”
“I never wanted to tell you, Vi, because I saw no good in it, but since it don't matter anymore“
Violet stared at her mother, as if with her eyes she would force her to say what apparently she was having difficulty in saying. “Say it.”
“He's your father.”
“My father!” Violet stood up and looked down at her mother. “You told me Cade Sellers was my father.”
“Well, I thought it best at the time,” said Sadie turning her face away from Violet. “Someone who was dead and out of the way was a lot better than having to deal with all the questions and“
“Mama, look at me!”
“Vi, why are you looking at me like that? Why do you accuse me with your eyes? Do you think I wouldn't have done things different if I could have?”
Harding Kelly was the only man I have ever loved! The words were loud inside Sadie and she felt a sudden pain in her breast. That was probably why she hadn't told Violet. Even the thought hurt too much.
“I'm going to a ball with Shackel, Mama,” said, Violet, her voice as ice and her eyes blank. “He has ordered me to attend with him. Let's look at La Belle Assemble and choose a gown.
“I’m sorry I was unkind to you. It’s not your fault, none of it is. The fault is his alone—that fiend!
“You always think of me first, I must remember that.” Violet leaned and kissed her mother, tears streaming down her face which she brushed away.
“There isn’t anyone who has given more to her family than you, Mama. When I think of how you tried to save your mother and the children during the Terror in France, my blood runs cold at what you went through. Mama, dearest, please forgive my insensitive words.”
“My sweet Violet…”
“If it weren’t for you and Calvin he would have been unable to keep me his prisoner, Mama. But I know what he would do to you if I left. I could not bear the thought.”
“Violet…”
“Let’s forget about that, Mama. I am to wear a domino and mask to that place. Let us talk of that.”
“Please, Vi. Don't blame me. What could I do? Alex is a hard man to cross. I feared for your life!”
“Yes, he is a dangerous man. Let us prepare for the ball, Mama.”
CHAPTER 34
Preparing for a ball.
At another time, this would have been pure enjoyment for Cecilia, for she loved the anticipation a ball at a great house always gave her. Yet her anticipation was marred with worry. Her father still held out a hope that because Lord Arandale had not answered his letter accepting the cancellation of the courtship it meant that Arandale was still courting her, but was there still hope of that?
If he did not ask her to dance, then she would know that the end of his courtship was truly at hand. She suddenly felt a sick feeling to her stomacha dreadful feeling of lossof desolation.
Why did she feel desolation?
Did one ever truly know oneself?
And why did she feel thus? She recalled Lord Arandale's face and a shiver went through her. She was yearning for his company! She was yearning to be in his arms, dancing. She was yearning for his kiss. That kiss she had once denied him. She had turned her head away. A genie now taunted her. She would never have his kiss again. She could only try to imagine it. But he had kissed her, at the Blue Raven Inn. The memory was still fresh and sweet.
Was it only that she was a contrary person, yearning only for that which she could not have and discarding it once she possessed it?
The answer in her heart told her that was not so. Yet there it was. This thing she could not understand: She couldn't stop thinking of Lord Arandale!
“Mary, is Martha ready?” asked Cecilia as the maid walked into her bedroom with the combs and ribbons.
“Yes, Miss, she said she would be in shortly to help me with your hair. Oh, there she is. Mrs. Bedder, I brought the ribbons and the combs.”
“Let me see, Mary. Yes, these will do very well. They match the pink and cream in Miss Sentenell's dress. But how you look, Cecilia,” said Martha, “a vision of loveliness. But just see how well your new ball gown fits why it's exquisite!”
“It is lovely, isn't it?” said Cecilia, standing up and taking a turn around the room. Her gown was cream silk with seed pearls at the center of the sleeve around which were delicate rosebuds with the palest green leaves. Under the bodice a row of threaded thin ribbons was tied into a perfect bow at the center. At the hem a trail of rosebuds repeated the theme of the sleeves.
The Marquess and Marchioness of Belvedere marked the start of April each year with a ball that was a study in splendor. It was said that this was the only ball the Prince Regent made a point of attending each year, no matter how many others he missed.
“Ah, my dear, you look quite lovely, yes. Martha,” added Sir Geoffrey, his voice weak, “what a handsome gown! What is that color called, exactly?”
“La Belle Assemble calls this color peridot blue, Geoffrey, but I would call it just plain blue,” said Martha.
“Papa,” said Cecilia with concern, “are you certain you
will be all right? Martha and I will skip this ball gladly if you do not feel up to it, my dear. There are many more balls in the season.”
“I am well enough, my dear,” said Sir Geoffrey, and added “I am hopeful Lord Arandale will attend.”
Cecilia said nothing as they climbed the large coach and headed toward St. James. All were silent during the short trip. Cecilia's thoughts were overcome with worries over the column and about seeing Arandale again.
Finally they arrived. As they were helped down their carriage by their driver and groom, Cecilia glanced at the enormous crescent of stairs. At the end of the stairway huge tall columns seemed to reach for the dark sky. Dozens of footlights and torches lit the way. The place seemed enchanted to Cecilia, with its majestic proportions.
The night was inky black and studded with thousands of stars above the ramparts of the vast mansion that seemed more like a castle than a townhouse. If ever there was a house meant for a magic ball this house was it. Yet anything but enchantment awaited them inside.
Cecilia well knew how unforgiving the ton was. Loud whispers and sharply turned heads would greet them, she was certain. They would be made an object of curiosity. People would wonder out loud about her and would vent their jealousies in numerous ways. She had rejected the catch of several seasons. Who did she think she was? And how dumb was she? She was certain that society mamas would scratch her eyes out if they could, simply because the Earl of Arandale had proposed to her and not to their daughters.
Their names were announced with great pomposity and they entered through what felt like a gauntlet. Finally at the end of the receiving line, Cecilia breathed a sigh of relief as their little party walked around the side of the vast ballroom that sparkled with dozens of chandeliers. Thousands of lights made jewels shimmer and sparkle and the scent of a thousand flowers filled the air. The heady air of gardenias, lox and lilac competed with roses so that it made the air heady and the atmosphere electric.
Cecilia felt a rush of excitement go through her as she lifted her head and her eyes ran straight into the eyes of Lord Arandale, who was just arriving, accompanied by two friends. He and his friends looked imposing in black and white.