by Mary Beeken
Hearing her gasp he turned his head and looked at her, raising an eyebrow inquiringly and for a long moment their gazes held and he could not mistake the hint of panic he saw in hers.
“What troubles you, Gherkin?” he asked eventually.
She shook her head slightly in denial and looked away.
“Nothing is troubling me,” she told him and then before he could question her further said, “Having discovered for yourself that I cannot dance, I think we should be getting back.”
“I have discovered nothing of the sort. Come on!” and so saying he pulled her up and into his arms. “I need to distract you so that you are not thinking about your feet!”
“Oh Glenmore, give up! I will never be able to waltz!” she pleaded, not wanting to be in close proximity until she had sorted out her rather strange musings, but he would not listen.
“Nonsense! Shall I distract you by showering compliments on you? Liken your eyes to the summer skies and your lips to ripe cherries?” he laughed, whilst beginning to twirl her around the grass, though anyone looking on could be forgiven for believing he was witnessing a grappling match.
“If you start that rubbish I will do you some serious injury! All that sickly sweet, codswallop really makes me uncomfortable,” she told him.
“Is that how you get ideas for your stories? Hapless young men pay you compliments and you think up heinous ways to punish them for their audacity? Tell me; how will you make me suffer?”
“Actually, my maid informed me this morning of a man who was arrested for the murder of his wife,” Dizzy replied, noticeably brightening. “He maintains that she burst into flames before his very eyes. Have you ever heard of such a happening?”
“Yes. It is called spontaneous human combustion and there were several reported cases last century. It has never been proved as a medical condition though and I do not believe it has ever been witnessed,” Glenmore informed her. “In nearly all reported cases a foot or lower leg is all that remains of the body; along with a pile of ash of-course.”
“That is all that was left of this man’s wife, by all accounts and unlike the cases you have mentioned, my maid heard that he was there when his wife burst into flames,” Dizzy said.
“Seems to me that if it were a medical condition then it would occur much more frequently and more people would have seen it happen. Instead there are a few cases all reported around the same time with no records of it prior to last century. That alone renders it suspicious. What do you make of it?” Marcus asked.
“I find it fascinating; the idea that people can just spontaneously combust but must agree with you,” she told him before adding, “It is also all so very convenient, do you not think? If all that remains is a pile of ash and the odd limb then there is no evidence of foul play; no knife wounds or strangle marks or so on. Who could be found guilty in those circumstances? Unless a witness can be found murder cannot be proven can it?”
“We shall have to see if this man you talk of actually goes to trial and if he does, keep a close watch on proceedings.”
“Yes we will. No doubt it will be reported on in the papers,” she absently agreed, still mulling over it in her mind.
“Obviously gruesome murders are a good distraction for you have been waltzing now for several minutes. Not gracefully admittedly or with any degree of elegance but passably so nevertheless!” He observed, smiling down at her.
“So I have!” Dizzy exclaimed then promptly tripped. “Whoops! Of-course now you have pointed it out I have acquired two left feet again!”
“Actually sweetheart you were dancing with two left feet!” he laughingly pointed out. “But you were dancing! Did you enjoy it?”
Dizzy thought for a moment before replying; “Yes I did; very much! I would not want to do it in a ballroom mind, but like this with no one to frown at me and no other couples to bump into, it has been lovely. Thank you.”
“From now on, I shall endeavour to find secluded spots at every ball so that we can waltz in privacy and comfort. Of course you must be prepared to dance in gardens, retiring rooms and even the odd cupboard but waltz we will, my delightful gherkin!” Marcus proclaimed and when she opened her mouth to protest the absurdity he continued. “No need to thank me again but tell me; your old dancing masters were offered a bonus if they succeeded in teaching you to dance?”
“Yes. I believe my father and later, my brother offered a rather hefty sum but it was never claimed. Would you like me to ask Gideon to present it to you?” she enquired with mock demureness.
“We need not bother him; I shall just claim my reward now,” and before she had time to protest he had pulled her close and was kissing her.
This time there were no gentle preliminaries. He had wanted to kiss her ever since he had taken her in his arms when helping her to dismount, but he had kept a tight hold on his desires. Now that he had accomplished what he had set out to do; namely teach Dizzy that she could enjoy such pursuits that required a level of coordination; even if she was not very good at them, he could no longer resist his physical needs. While his mouth claimed hers, his hands caressed her back, running up and down; setting her nerves alight and sending tingles throughout her body. When she groaned and pressed closer to him, Marcus’ initial reaction was to lay her down and allow his hands and lips to explore the rest of her delectable body before burying himself deep inside her, but the snort of his horse nearby reminded him not only of their location but also of their servants seated nearby. He therefore had to content himself with devouring her mouth and revelling in her passionate responses.
“Ted, should we not go over and put a stop to it?” Doris asked, looking concerned.
“Nay lass. It is naught but a kiss after all and if what master says be true, they will be tying the knot afore too long anyway,” Ted reassured her before pulling her into a kiss which was immensely satisfying to them both.
As promised that afternoon, Robert Prentiss arrived to take Dizzy for a drive in his curricle; a beautiful equipage painted a glossy, rich blue and being pulled by matching bays. A tiger, dressed in livery of the same colour, stood at the horses’ heads talking gently to his charges whilst he awaited his master. Dizzy smiled at Robert as he handed her into the passenger seat before rounding the vehicle and climbing up beside her. When Prentiss gave the office to go, the tiger released the harness and leapt up onto his perch with practised ease and they set off for the park at a smart trot.
Although it was earlier than the established hour when the members of the elite daily took the air during the season; there were still many people enjoying a turn around the park, either on horseback or in carriages and so frequently they were obliged to stop and exchange pleasantries with their friends and acquaintances.
“Good day, Lady Derwent,” Dizzy said as Robert set the curricle in motion. She then turned to him saying, “It is a bit stop, start isn’t it?”
“I should have chosen a different destination; away from the crowds. I shall remember for next time,” He replied “But whilst we have a few minutes before we must stop again, tell me how you are getting along with Glenmore?”
“About as well as you are getting along with my sister!” Dizzy was quick to respond which brought a chuckle from him.
“That good eh?”
“He is an acquaintance that is all,” she told him but when he looked sceptical she capitulated. “He was extremely arrogant when I met him and although he has improved on knowing him better, he is still incredibly annoying! He wants to pretend an attachment to stop the husband hunters and even though I have expressed abhorrence at the very idea, he will not be put off. I have thwarted his effort thus far by making myself scarce in public but he is very obstinate.”
“He thinks this plan of his will work does he?” Robert asked.
“Yes though I told him it wouldn’t. Marriage is the only true deterrent to Duke hungry maidens and their ambitious mammas but he will not listen.”
“Are you sure his plan is to def
lect the matchmakers? Perhaps he is in earnest in courting you and wishes to make you his wife,” he suggested.
“I have been told that you are a very intelligent and astute man so I can only assume you are joking. He has no intention of marrying and most definitely not me, I can assure you! I overheard him tell Trevellyn that he likes to annoy me. I believe it enlivens the social events he feels obliged to attend.”
“Yet he is not obliged to attend any!” he interjected. “He has no sister or female relatives to ferry around and there are plenty of other pursuits for a single gentleman that would keep him away from the functions designed primarily for selecting a partner for life. So that leaves one wondering why he does go to them”
“Please disabuse yourself that he is there for my benefit! Perhaps having come to the title unexpectedly and being a comparative stranger amongst the ton, he wishes to widen his circle of friends and what better way than in the ballrooms of the elite,” she said
“Possible I grant you, but very unlikely,” he mused. “Perhaps he is governed by something else; something that we know nothing about.”
“Pure devilment perhaps?” Dizzy smiled impishly teasing a laugh out of her companion.
Chapter Seven
Everyone gathered in the yellow drawing room before dinner that evening to present Alfie with his birthday gifts. Being a scientist and inventor; one moreover renowned in his field, it was not surprising that most of his family had purchased items that would be of use to him in his work. Dizzy was particularly pleased with the portable microscope that she had found in a small shop off Bond Street. It came in a beautiful wooden box which was lined in red silk and she had arranged for his name to be engraved on the inside of the lid.
“Thank you, my dear,” Alfie said after it had been passed around for all to see. “I cannot tell you how useful it is going to be when I am out and about on field study and I can record my findings in these lovely notebooks that Genevieve gave me.”
“They are very smart,” Dizzy replied, picking one up to look at.
Genevieve had bought him a comprehensive set of notebooks bound in moleskin and dyed in a range of colours, and each colour was in a set of different paper including plain, lined; both wide and narrow and squared.
“I thought they would make it easier for you to keep a record of your various experiments and theories. I know how frustrated you get when you cannot find your notes because they are haphazardly recorded on bits of paper and have been filed in the wrong place,” she said.
“Too true, my love,” stated Mrs Honey Dew. “I cannot tell you how much time we spend hunting for things that have been put down somewhere and then cannot be found.”
“They move themselves, I am convinced of it!” laughed Alfie. “Either that or we have a mischievous ghost, moreover one who particularly likes writing implements; pens, pencils it matters not for they all just disappear as if into thin air!”
“Ah that is my cue to present you with this,” said Gabriel, handing over a polished oak case about eighteen inches wide with a depth of half that. “It will take a while for you to lose these; or should I say for the ghost to filch them!”
Inside Alfie found a variety of pencils, pens and inks, all neatly laid out in three layers. “It certainly will!” Alfie replied. “Thank you, my boy. It is a marvellous gift.” Taking out first one item and then another to examine them before returning each one to its rightful place in the case.
“I am glad you like them,” he smiled then added, “Are we to go into dinner soon? I am famished!”
“No change there then for you are always famished!” his twin announced. “But you will have to wait another half hour I am afraid. Dinner will be served at eight as is the norm when we dine at home in town. One would have thought you knew that after all this time.”
“Then I am glad that I had the sense to save this from teatime!” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and unwrapping it to reveal a biscuit. “This should hold the hunger pangs at bay.”
“Are you going to share that?” Gideon asked whilst devouring the shortbread with his eyes.
“No chance of that! You should have saved your own piece,” Gabriel informed him before taking a bite. “Mmmm. Delicious!”
Whilst Gabriel was distracted taunting his older brother, Dizzy spied her chance and made a lunge for the biscuit, grabbing it out of his hand she turned swiftly to make her escape.
“Hey!” shouted Gabriel, giving chase. “That biscuit is all that stands between me and starvation. Give it back.”
“Mmmm. You are right it is delicious,” she confirmed dodging around a chair to avoid him as he made a grab for her.
“Throw it to me!” Gideon urged holding out his hands preparing to catch it.
“No! I snatched it so I am going to eat it!” she announced.
Unfortunately she was so busy laughing and trying to evade Gabriel, she did not see the footstool that was just beyond the chair and tripped over it. The shortbread went flying in an arc through the air; landing squarely in Gideon’s outstretched hands where upon he popped the whole lot into his mouth. Gabriel watched its progress in angst; unable to reach it and not close enough to prevent his brother from consuming it. Whilst the biscuit flew one way, Dizzy flew the other; straight into the arms of a man who had just stepped through the door.
She knew who it was even before the familiar voice said, “My darling girl, I am flattered that you are so pleased to see me!”
“I tripped!” she retorted.
“You always say that but I think you just want to be in my embrace,” he proclaimed; keeping his arms locked around her even when he addressed the rest of the room. “Your butler said I should announce myself as he is far too busy with other chores.” Nobody seemed in the least shocked or surprised by this pronouncement and so Marcus surmised it was not unusual for guests to see themselves in.
Gideon made his way over with his hand outstretched but as his mouth was still full of shortbread he was unable to utter any words of welcome.
“Ah there you are, Glenmore,” the Dowager stated blatantly ignoring the fact that he held her granddaughter in a bear hug. “Come on in. Gabriel will fetch you a drink when he has stopped glaring at his brother.”
Marcus shook hands with Gideon who, having finished the biscuit, was now able to greet him properly and much to Dizzy’s outrage they continued to converse about a curricle race they had both witnessed whilst she remained pinned to Glenmore’s chest. After trying to extricate herself without success she decided manners could be ignored and simply interrupted them.
“You can release me now, Glenmore! I have quite got my balance thank you.”
“I’m sorry gherkin; did you say something?” he looked down at her with a decided twinkle of amusement.
Dizzy gave him the look, feeling it would be more affective than any words but instead of letting her go he laughed and turned to her brother saying, “Your sister has fallen for me yet again, Brockton! I feel it would be much safer for me if she remains at my side. What do you think?”
“I am inclined to agree with you, my friend but in order to preserve my own safety I cannot do so publicly. She would skin me alive if I were to do so, you understand!” Gideon exclaimed; eyeing his sister warily.
“Just let me go before I set my cat, Minerva onto you!”
“What that ball of purring black fur curled up over there by the fire?” Glenmore scoffed.
“Do not be fooled, Glenmore. She can be deadly when she unsheathes those claws. She can tear a man to shreds in one minute and disposes of all evidence in another two!”
“Disposes? How?”
Dizzy lowered her voice and looked around conspiratorially. “She eats it! Meow!”
Both men laughed and Glenmore released her. “I dare not risk such a beastly end!”
“I shall help Gabriel with the drinks and leave Dizzy to make introductions although” he said glancing around “I believe it is only Alfie whom you have n
ot met before.”
As soon as he had moved away, Dizzy pounced on him. “What are you doing here? It is a meal for family only.”
“I am almost family,” he replied.
“No you are not! There is no such thing as ‘almost family’ ”
“Your grandmother said I am and she invited me; this afternoon as it happens while you were out for a drive. Did you enjoy your ride around the park?” he asked politely.
“Yes it was lovely thank you. Robert is a very entertaining companion. Did you enjoy your visit with the Dowager?” she too asked politely.
“Yes thank you. She is very amusing. Her jokes had me laughing uncontrollably!”
“Oh dear!” she laughed. “Her jokes are very rude as a rule. I have often overheard her telling them to her cronies.”
“I am shocked!” he teased “You should have covered your ears!”
“It would have been futile; rather like standing next to a church bell and expecting to cut out the noise by wearing a head scarf. Grandmamma only has two volumes; loud and very loud.”
Leaning to whisper quietly to her, Glenmore said. “I should be happy to explain any you may not have understood.”
“Thank you but no.” Dizzy hastily replied, blushing at the thought. Fortunately for her she spotted Alfie and used him as an excuse to change the subject. “Come I must introduce you. Alfie this is His Grace the Duke of Glenmore. Glenmore you will remember our cousin Mrs Honey Dew; this is her husband, Alfie.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Mr Honeydew and wish you a happy birthday,” Marcus greeted him.
“Ah lad, it is a pleasure to meet you but I fear you have been confused by these rapscallions. Quite understandable I assure you,” he went on to explain. “I am Alfie Dew. My wife’s forename is Honey and is therefore Mrs Dew but the Brockton children always called her Mrs Honey Dew; they said it was such a lovely name and should be used. Of course to me she will always be my own dear Honey Potts.”