I soaked it up and decided, just for tonight, to forget about Millicent and Vandemark and all my other headaches, dive deep into the atmosphere, and enjoy myself.
Toby and I approached the bridal couple, who were lined up with both sets of parents between two urns, greeting guests as they arrived.
“Oh, Astra, how wonderful to see you!” Belinda gushed, clearly full of prenuptial euphoria. Her eyes glittered a little manically, and she was flushed. “Can you believe this is all really happening? I can’t! It’s like a dream—the most wonderful dream!” She sighed and laid her head on Hampton’s shoulder.
He smiled at her. “I hope you never wake up from it,” he said sweetly.
“No one deserves this more than you,” I told Belinda warmly as the pressure of the crowd started moving me down the line. A quick clasp of Hampton’s hand and a curtsey to the parents, and we were free. I left Toby lurking near a statue of Eros and dashed upstairs to freshen up.
As I was coming back down the hallway, combs settled, lipstick retouched, ready to make my entrance, someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me into a side corridor.
“I got your note,” Freddie announced, pulling me much, much closer than was decent. His breath was like a breeze off a distillery.
“Freddie, what are you doing?” I gasped, trying to push and squirm away from him. His arms were like tentacles, wrapping themselves around me.
“You said you wanted to meet me. You were most insistent. So glad you’re not upset about that business with Porter.” He grinned and began swaying back and forth with me. “Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave!” he sang tunelessly.
“I have no intention of misbehaving with you or anyone else!” I blazed, finally managing to wrench myself away from him. Two girls passing by in the main corridor took note of the scene, exchanged ‘Oh, I see’ looks, and hurried away. “Remember yourself, Freddie!” I growled. “Go sober up! We’ll meet some other time.”
He stepped back, befuddled. I smoothed my dress and was on my way.
The crowd of guests in the front hall seemed to have doubled in the time I’d been upstairs, and still more were arriving. I saw Cecilia making her way through the receiving line. Cee waved excitedly when she saw me; just ahead of her, Millicent glanced up too, and smirked, probably already anticipating a delightful weekend of making me miserable.
Well, if that’s what she’s after, she’ll be disappointed.
Things might have seemed bleak just then, but I’d be damned if Millicent knew it.
I straightened my back, lifted my chin, and processed down the stairs like an empress. I concentrated on the cloying smell of the flowers and cast Millicent and Freddie from my mind. This would be a good weekend.
Toby was still next to the statue of Eros, but now he had company. He’d been joined by Dunreaven, looking more splendid than was strictly decent in white tie and tails. It was my first time seeing him since New Year’s Day, and it gave me a thrill—much more so than I was expecting. My belly—and other parts—tingled, and I felt warm all over. Was he handsomer? Probably not, but you know what they say about absence and the heart.
I tried to remind myself that this was not the time for romantic entanglements. That my life was already a Gordian knot. He had no money and needed a rich wife. I needed to save Hensley and support my brother. And Millicent was ready to fight very dirty to secure a nobleman. But as I approached, both men looked up, and Dunreaven’s deeply appreciative grin made any practical thought I’d ever had fly right out of my head. And suddenly, the cost of the dress seemed worth it.
“Look what you found,” I said to Toby as I sashayed toward the men.
“I had nothing to do with it—he found me,” Toby responded. “He’s made an excellent show of being interested in what I’ve been doing with my life since our schooldays, but you’re here now, so off I go. Ta now!” He melted into the crowd.
Once he was gone, Dunreaven smiled and said, “Why Miss Davies, if I may presume, you look simply splendid tonight. I’d say it was worth the trip north simply to see you in the famous Parisian gown.” His eyes raked over me, eating me up. My ears and cheeks burned. “Lady Cecilia was right: it seems to have been made just for you.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find you’re a discerning judge of ladies’ fashion,” I replied, as lightly as I could manage. “You really do seem to have been carefully constructed to be attractive to women.”
He chuckled. “Stamped out in some factory?”
“No, not you. You’re the work of an artist.”
“Well, I’ve found that ladies nowadays have very high expectations.”
“Some do. I’m sure there are plenty who would be happy just to see that face first thing every morning.” I gestured to him with a teasing smile.
“I hope for more than that from a wife.”
“Oh? And how goes your search for a spouse, then?”
“As you can see, I am unencumbered. So clearly the quest continues.”
I tried not to let him see that pleased me, but I must not have been entirely successful, because his smile turned wry.
“Others, I hear, are having more luck.” He nodded toward Beckworth and Cecilia, who were deep in conversation next to a potted ivy topiary. “Joyce says we all have you to thank for that.”
I grinned at the sight of them and shrugged. “Not just me. Toby suggested it. And it wasn’t really much effort. Just a gentle push from either direction to move them together, and they took care of the rest. She’ll make him far happier than I would.”
“And he’ll make her far happier than he’d make you,” Dunreaven added. He leaned a little closer and murmured, “Is it very wrong of me to admit I’m not sorry you won’t become Lady Beckworth?”
His breath ticked my ear, and I shivered a little even as my whole upper body heated up. “Very wrong,” I whispered back. “But I’ll allow it, this once.”
A devilish grin in response. Goose bumps up and down my arms.
“Shall we?” I gestured to the couples drifting toward the nearest drawing room.
“We shall.” He offered me his arm. “May I have the pleasure?”
I took the arm and we joined the well-dressed tide.
The doors between two adjoining drawing rooms had been opened, creating a space large enough to dance. A few brave pairs were already swaying to the orchestra’s staid tunes.
I saw Joyce chatting with a few acquaintances off to the side. As soon as she spotted us, she broke off the conversation and came bustling over with David.
“Oh, darling, how gorgeous you look,” she greeted me with a kiss on both cheeks. “Doesn’t she look delectable? David, don’t answer that. Jeremy?”
“Quite edible,” Dunreaven agreed with another appreciative look that brought back the tingle, stronger this time.
“How’re those people you’re staying with, Astra?” Joyce asked. “Friends of your aunt’s, aren’t they? Is it really awful? If it is, we may be able to squeeze you in with us.”
“No, the lady’s perfectly lovely,” I assured her.
“Well, that’s all right, then. And it’s only for a few days anyhow. David, you’d better dance with me before it gets too crowded to move. Who hired this orchestra? So dull! Jeremy, twirl Astra around a few times, she’s clearly dying for a go.”
She and David moved off, and Dunreaven gave me a questioning look and nodded toward the dance floor. “May I presume? If you aren’t otherwise engaged.”
“You know very well I’m not engaged,” I responded.
As we came together and he put his hand on the small of my back, I realized we were bare skin to bare skin, and now that tingle was becoming incredibly distracting. I couldn’t help but notice that he, too, seemed to swallow a little hard. Trying to keep the conversation light, I asked, “How are you liking Leicestershire?”
“It’s a beautiful part of the country. I’d like to see more of it.”
“You should. It’s certain
ly worth it.”
“I’ve been told you grew up here. Could I persuade you to show me a little?”
“Possibly, if there’s time.” I looked up at him and noticed that his eyes were more blue than green tonight. For several long seconds I couldn’t seem to look away. I felt the heat of his hand on the tender skin of my lower back. My chest tightened, and I forced myself to look over his left shoulder, focusing on the orchestra’s bass player.
“I’m surprised you didn’t spend today getting the lay of the land,” I choked, sternly telling myself to get control. But the atmosphere of the party had thoroughly soaked in by that time. All the smiles and the heady flowers and Belinda’s joyful laugh ringing over the music. The love and pure joy of finding someone who fits with you and makes you happy. I had let myself be swept up in it, this romantic riptide. It was pulling me farther and farther from the safety of the shore.
“I was occupied most of the day,” he explained. “Lady Balsan had me over for tea and dinner.”
“Lady Balsan? I don’t think I know her.” Count back from ten …
“Lady Cecilia’s and Lady Millicent’s aunt.”
“Ahh, Sir Walter’s wife!” How could I forget? She’d always looked down on us Davieses because Hensley had been built with money from trade. Didn’t matter that we’d got out of said trade and settled into life as country gentry well before my father’s father was born—Lady Balsan was the sort to think it took at least five generations to make a true gentleman. “Jumped up,” she’d call us, to mutual acquaintances. Not that that kept her from hiring away one or two of our housemaids. Privately, I think what really bothered her was Mother always winning first prize at the annual village fete flower show.
“The bride and groom should feel honored: she hardly ever bothers to come to this part of the country,” I commented. “But of course, Lady Balsan has a very compelling reason this weekend.” I smiled up at him. “Tea and dinner. They’re really putting it on. Just know they’ll expect some sort of repayment for the hospitality.”
“Oh? All my charms and sparkling personality aren’t payment enough?”
I solemnly shook my head. “I’m afraid not. Nobody entertains a bachelor for free: they eat too much.”
“Well,” he chuckled, “I’m a moderate eater, so hopefully the price won’t be too high.”
I tsked. “Those are expensive ladies, and their time is costly.” My smile turned kittenish. “It may very well cost you a ring or two.”
“Is that so?” He laughed. “And will I be punished for failing to hold up my end of this bargain?”
“Most certainly! Prepare yourself for quite the battering, Lord Dunreaven.”
“Fortunately my ship is a sturdy one and can survive an assault or two.”
“But can it survive a full engagement?” I grinned playfully, and he smiled back.
“Is that a proposal?”
Touché. “You know very well it is not.”
“Ahh, what a shame.” He sighed dramatically. “Well, if the ladies press me, I shall have to inform them that I won’t be bought by some scones and roast beef, no matter how deliciously prepared.” He moved the hand on my back the tiniest bit, sending a thrilling electric jolt straight up my spine.
“They’ll probably just redouble their efforts,” I warned. “Millicent is dangerously close to being left on the shelf, and she won’t stand for that.”
“The shelf?” He shuddered. “That sounds grim.”
“That’s the way of it.” I shrugged. “Everyone wants the new season’s model: it’s sleeker and shinier.”
“I’m not sure that’s true. Those in the know are aware that many things improve with age.” He smiled impishly. “Are you not worried about being shelved yourself?”
“Not yet. I tell myself I have a year or two left before I’m declared a waste of tulle and effort.”
“Perhaps I’ll wait, then,” he suggested.
“Oh no, don’t do that. I’d hate to think of such a brilliant catch as you languishing on my account. I have things to do before I’m ready to settle down, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be done in the proper time.”
He paused, then asked, “What sorts of things?”
“Grown-up things.”
“I hear marriage is a grown-up thing.”
“And yet girls are expected to go into it when they’re virtually children.” I sighed. “And some of the men are little better,” I added, catching sight of Freddie in the crowd.
“You have it all sorted, then,” Dunreaven said.
“Far from it, unfortunately.”
The song ended. We drifted off the dance floor, along with Joyce and David, and were met by Cecilia and Beckworth.
“Astra, you look so, so perfect!” Cecilia gushed. “That dress is the best thing any of us got in Paris. Oh, isn’t this exciting?” She looked around, wide-eyed. “It’s too bad I’ve got to stay with Aunt Constance—it very nearly ruins the whole experience. She’s so dull! And my cousin Emmy’s turned into such an awful little girl. You know what she did yesterday? I took a second piece of cake at tea and she oinked at me. And she kept it up all day today. She hasn’t said a single actual word to me, she just oinks all the time!”
Horrified, I glanced at Dunreaven, who grimaced and nodded in confirmation.
Joyce looked disgusted. “Your family breeds the most horrible little ticks, Cee. Not you, of course, but nearly everyone else. Are you sure you weren’t left on the doorstep?”
“I do wonder sometimes,” Cee sighed. “But Jeremy was nice enough to save me, weren’t you, Jeremy? He told Emmy that fairies come out on full moons and transform children into animals, and if she wasn’t careful she’d be turned into a pig herself. That quieted her down.”
I grinned at him. “That was kind,” I told him. “To Cee, that is.”
“I owe repayment for the doll kidnapping, remember?” he replied. “And anyway, I hate bullies, as you know.”
“Ahh!” Cee sighed, “Look! The bride and groom!” She applauded as Belinda and Hampton came in.
Belinda blushed, looked up at her future husband adoringly, and cooed, “Bliss.”
Hampton beamed at her.
“Ohh.” Cee melted, glancing at Beckworth, who grinned back. “So romantic!”
“And can you believe it?” Belinda breathed. “Georgy’s parents are giving us this house for our very own. This whole beautiful place, with its lovely memories!”
“I can recommend some excellent people when you’re ready to start doing it over,” Joyce offered immediately.
David rolled his eyes and Belinda cocked her head, seeming confused.
“Why would I want to do it over?”
“She’s joking, Belinda,” I hastily reassured her before Joyce could respond.
Belinda tittered, then tugged on Hampton’s hand. “Georgy, please dance with me. I don’t think I can wait another moment!”
Hampton smiled obligingly and took her to the dance floor. The other couples melted back and applauded as the pair began their foxtrot. I watched them for a little while, happy to see two people so happy themselves, then turned back to find Millicent had inserted herself in their place.
“Astra,” she greeted me, “what a pleasure it is to see you here.”
“What a sweet thing to say, Millicent,” I simpered. “I simply had to be here—I heard you were going to do a reading at the ceremony. However did you manage that?”
Her eyes flashed, then took me in from head to toe. “That dress is a bold choice,” she commented. “Though I suppose scarlet is appropriate. So very eye-catching, that gown. Most ladies would be afraid of drawing all the attention away from the bride.”
“No one could possibly outshine such a radiant bride,” I answered sweetly.
Dunreaven was frowning, his eyes moving back and forth between us.
Millicent turned to him with a smile. “You promised me a dance, Dunny.”
“Payment is owing,” I teased him
.
He gave me a warning look as he led Millicent away.
* * *
Considering we didn’t get home until after three, I was up at the rather lark-like hour of nine to have Arthur drive me back to Rakesburn. Hampton had kindly offered me the pick of the stables, and within the quarter hour a pretty bay mare and I were on our way to Hensley.
Once clear of the stable yard, I gave the mare her head and had a good gallop over the fields. This was where my father had taught me to ride, on a fat gray pony named Almond. He showed me the paths to avoid (“too many tree roots down that one—you’ll break your mount’s legs and your neck”) and the fields that offered a soft landing if I got into trouble. The gates and streams that could be safely jumped and the ones that hid ditches and rabbit warrens. And of course there were the secret spots where bluebells and violets grew in lush carpets, waiting for us to stop and gather a posy for Mother.
My current mount moved like a dancer, skimming the grass and nimbly leaping fences as if to say, “Oh, this five-bar gate? It’s nothing!” Very different from Almond, who’d always been reluctant to go faster than a jerky trot. She died when I was thirteen, and we buried her at Hensley on a day much like this one: dazzlingly sunny with a slight breeze, the tropical smell of gorse and the promise of a brilliant summer in the air.
Mother’s garden would be beautiful on a day like today. The wisteria would probably be in bloom, the roses just starting to open. Father would have opened the French windows in the library to catch the scent, then stood in the doorway, framed by morning glories, crowing, “Magnificent! When I die, I hope heaven is just like this.”
“Don’t be so morbid,” Mother would chastise him.
I smiled, thinking of her in her floppy straw gardening hat and gauntlets, clucking over the plants as if they were errant children. Trimming and pruning and perfecting. She’d begun letting me help when I was six, and when I was ten, I was given a plot in her sacred space and created my own little garden, with her help.
A Bright Young Thing Page 16