‘Probably the effect of these damned satin breeches,’ returned Richard, suppressing a grin. ‘Haven’t worn such an uncomfortable get-up since God only knows when!’
Owing to the fact that a good many of the other gentlemen and indeed not a few of the older ladies had taken themselves off to one or other of the side rooms where the card tables had been set up, the initial press of people had thinned somewhat, making it relatively easy for the earl to commandeer a suitably placed set of chairs for his party.
As he handed her into her seat, Helena managed a brief smile of thanks, the feeling of exasperated disbelief that had beset her from the moment she had set foot in the hall only just beginning to evaporate. Never having wanted to be part of this upper circle of society, the entire rigmarole had struck her as being absurdly pretentious and utterly farcical, not to mention embarrassing. Why any mother would want to couple her daughter with any of the posturing and preening individuals who were presently doing the rounds was completely beyond her, for a more abject-looking set of obvious fortune-hunters she yet had to set eyes upon!
Unfurling her fan, she peeped surreptitiously over its fluted rim to where Markfield was standing, in conversation with his cousin. She could not help thinking that, unlike most of the other males present, the earl looked rather dashing in his long-tailed coat and knee-length breeches, it not having escaped her notice that the complementary white stockings he was wearing had the added effect of displaying his firm calf muscles to great advantage.
Having spent the best part of the afternoon agonising over just how she was going to act towards him when he called to pick them up this evening, she found that she need not have concerned herself with the pointless exercise, for it seemed that whatever had been troubling his lordship for the past few days had ceased to be an issue. Gone were the stiffly correct manner and taciturn demeanour and, in their place, were smiles and pleasantry, making it difficult for her to carry on with her own intended attitude of polite detachment. In fact, within minutes of his having handed her into the countess’s barouche, many of her earlier doubts and reservations had seemed to vanish into thin air as, almost without thinking, she had found herself responding once more to his good-natured bonhomie.
Watching him now, as he leant down to have a word with his grandmother, she stifled a sigh, having reached the conclusion that, if what both Jenny and the countess had intimated were to be believed, there was little point in her continually repining over the issue since—quite apart from the fact that it was really no business of hers how Markfield chose to conduct his life—it had already been made abundantly clear that any arrangement between herself and the earl was intended to be of a temporary nature. None the less, as a series of highly disturbing images of him entwined in the arms of the dreadful Cummings woman persisted in hammering at her senses, she found it impossible to stem the feelings of melancholia that accompanied these bothersome fantasies. Unfortunately, as she was well aware, until her father’s condition improved sufficiently for him to face up to being told of yet another doomed relationship, she had no recourse but to carry on with this dismal charade. A circumstance which, in the normal way of things, ought to be well within her capabilities—if only she could learn to still those painful longings that continued to beset her and school her pulse to behave less erratically whenever Markfield happened to turn his head in her direction!
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she failed to hear the earl’s initial request that she stand up with him for the set that was presently forming.
‘Miss Wheatley?’ he repeated, looking down at her questioningly. ‘The music is about to begin, if you would do me the honour?’
She gave a quick start and, as the realisation of what he was asking her gradually dawned, she leapt hurriedly to her feet, a rosy blush covering her cheeks.
Although the orchestra had already struck up the opening chords of the music, they had no difficulty in finding themselves a place, since there was little for the waiting couples to do at this point but raise their arms, while the top couple twirled and sashayed their way down through the arches.
‘I trust that you were not too much put out by that ridiculous inauguration ceremony?’ said Richard, as he reached out to take hold of her upraised hands.
‘Not at all, my lord,’ she replied, steeling herself to disregard the wild beating of her heart as their fingers touched. ‘As a matter of fact, I must confess to finding the whole affair quite tedious.’
‘I rather got the feeling that you were not particularly impressed,’ he said, letting out a soft chuckle. ‘You looked so deadly serious standing there, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in your mind.’
She gave a little shrug. ‘I was merely thinking what a great pity it is that such powerful women should choose to exercise their influence on such a petty and pointless rigmarole, when they might easily use it in far more beneficial ways.’
Although he was intrigued at her reply, the movement of the dance prevented him from questioning her further and he was obliged to wait until they had performed the steps of the next measure before he was again in a position to pursue the matter.
‘Beneficial to whom?’ he queried, when they had again joined hands. ‘I’m not sure that I follow you.’
Helena hesitated, not entirely sure of the suitability of embarking on such a serious topic while engaged in so frivolous an activity as dancing. But, since he had asked and since it was a subject so close to her heart, she was unable to resist the challenge. ‘Well, they might start by taking an interest in the lamentable plight of the hundreds of displaced soldiers we have in our midst!’ she returned, in a somewhat defiant manner.
‘Displaced soldiers!’ He stared down at her in confusion. ‘Hardly a subject for a young lady to concern herself with, surely?’
‘And, why not, may I ask?’ she retorted defensively. ‘Given that I have spent the better part of the past two years doling out bread and soup to such neglected souls, I think I might claim to have acquired a fairly knowledgeable grasp of the situation!’
‘Well, I’ll be—!’
He paused, temporarily at a stand. But then, as he recalled what he knew of her history, his eyes softened and he said, ‘In dedication to your brother’s memory, I imagine? On behalf of my fellow comrades in arms, allow me to salute you!’
And, raising her hand, he bent forwards and pressed his lips to her fingers, causing her considerable confusion.
‘After the sacrifices that have been made on our behalves, it is little enough for any of us to do,’ she replied breathlessly, when she had finally regained sufficient command of her senses to say anything at all.
Having taken note of the rather bewitching colour that had flooded her cheeks at his gesture, Richard was conscious of a sudden lightening of spirit. ‘Might I be so bold as to enquire whether you were engaged in these duties earlier today?’ he asked. At her nod of acquiescence, his lips curved in a satisfied smile. ‘And that was why you were unable to receive me this morning, I take it?’ he ventured hopefully.
Having discovered that the intense gleam in his eyes was causing her heart to behave in the most erratic manner, Helena was relieved to find that the movement of the dance required her to disengage her hands from his, in order that she might follow the rest of the ladies down the outside of the set.
‘Partly,’ she replied over her shoulder as, swinging away from him, she made her way up the line towards the top of the set. Taking a quick peek through the line of moving dancers on her left, to ascertain that her partner was keeping pace with her, she reached the top of the set where, holding out her hand in readiness for Markfield’s grasp but reluctant to subject her senses to yet another bombardment, she kept her eyes firmly away from his and forced herself to direct her gaze over his right shoulder.
All at once, she stiffened and paled and, as a sudden trickle of apprehension ran through her veins, she tried desperately to steady herself but, unable to control her trembli
ng limbs, she felt herself falling and, had not Richard thrust out his arms to catch hold of her, she would have slid to the floor.
The mishap having obliged the line of ladies in Helena’s wake to slow their progress, the resulting confusion quickly brought the dance to a chaotic finish upon which, following a hurried signal from the Master of Ceremonies, the musicians were obliged to bring the tune to a somewhat haphazard end.
‘Miss Wheatley?’ Although the deep concern in Richard’s voice was apparent, Helena, now totally mesmerised by the expression of unconcealed venom on the face of the man who had been the cause of her sudden apprehension, was finding it almost impossible to tear her eyes away from his. For her sneering tormentor was none other than the despicable Viscount Barrington—the man from whom she had fled the Vauxhall Gardens in disgust and the very last man she might have expected to encounter in such hallowed surroundings!
‘Helena! Please!’
The returning colour in Helena’s previously deathly white cheeks having encouraged the highly concerned Richard to suppose that she was now on the road to recovery, he resorted to giving her a little shake. ‘Take deep breaths,’ he urged as, placing his arm around her shoulders, he endeavoured to persuade her to move away from the eyes of the curious onlookers. ‘Try to make the effort, dear girl. I must get you back to your seat.’
As his words gradually penetrated her dazed mind, Helena blinked and, with considerable effort, forced herself to drag her gaze away from Barrington’s still mocking, contempt-filled countenance. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she admonished herself crossly, telling herself that it had merely been the shock of seeing the man standing there with that dreadful expression on his face that had been the cause of her momentary agitation. There had been absolutely no need for her to have behaved in such a ridiculous manner. After all, no matter how contemptible he might be, the viscount was hardly likely to go so far as to create an ugly scene in this holy of holies!
But then, as Markfield’s persistent tug again claimed her attention, she suddenly became aware that all the other couples were making their way off the dance floor, leaving the earl and herself the focus of everyone’s attention.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ she stammered, her cheeks now flushed with embarrassment. ‘I do beg your pardon, my lord—I fear that I must have been overcome by the heat!’
‘Then we must get you back to your seat at once,’ grated the earl as, finally allowing himself to breathe once more, he placed his hand on her back and gently but firmly propelled her in the direction of her seat. ‘And then I need to go and procure you some sort of a cooling drink.’
Although both his words and tone were equally solicitous, Helena, having caught sight of his rather grim expression, could not help feeling that he must be thoroughly mortified at her dismal lack of conduct—and at such a highly esteemed venue, too! And just as they were beginning to get on so well again, she thought miserably, as she allowed him to lead her across the floor and settle her back into her seat where, unable to meet his eyes, she found herself incapable of offering him more than a slightly muffled, ‘You are very kind, my lord.’
His worried frown still in place, the earl, with a hurried bow, made off in the direction of the refreshment room.
No sooner had he disappeared from view than Lady Isobel, her face wreathed in satisfaction, leaned over and whispered into Helena’s ear. ‘Very neatly done, my dear, I could hardly have planned it better myself—if that doesn’t get all their tongues wagging, I’m sure I don’t know what will!’
Choking back her indignation at the suggestion that she had actually engineered the whole dismal affair in order to advance the dowager’s scheme, Helena found herself incapable of drumming up a suitable reply. Instead, she merely inclined her head and, despite the fact that she was still feeling decidedly unnerved by the viscount’s unexpected appearance, she lost no time in perusing the faces of the groups of people who were milling about the room, waiting for Mr Willis to announce the resumption of the dancing. Of the dreaded Barrington, however, there was no sign. Thinking it unlikely that he had already left the premises, she could only conclude that he must have taken himself off to one of the assembly hall’s several card rooms. She crossed her fingers in the fervent wish that he would find himself sufficiently entertained to remain there and not suddenly decide to put in another appearance and attempt to engage her in conversation or even—she suppressed a shudder—request that she dance with him! Quite apart from the fact that she could not bear to be in his company, she had the feeling that to refuse such an offer in this sanctuary of sanctuaries was likely to be looked upon as the height of bad manners and, since she had already blotted her social copybook once this evening, she felt disinclined to repeat the experience!
Discreetly plying her fan, she peeped sideways at the countess and, observing that she was now deep in conversation with one of her cronies, she then turned her head in her cousin’s direction, only to find Lottie’s soft brown eyes regarding her with some anxiety.
‘Whatever happened, Nell?’ came her urgent enquiry. ‘One minute you were dancing and the next thing I knew was that everything had ground to a halt and everyone seemed to be staring in your direction! You haven’t crossed swords with his lordship again, have you?’
‘Certainly not, dearest. I was slightly overcome by the heat, that is all,’ returned Helena, feigning nonchalance, for she could see no point in adding to her cousin’s already nervous state by informing her of Barrington’s presence. Then, summoning up a smile, she added, ‘Lord Markfield has very kindly gone off in search of some refreshments for us.’
Lottie nodded, but remained unconvinced. Having caught sight of Markfield’s decidedly forbidding expression, as he had passed by her on his way to the refreshment room, she wondered whether it might not be just as well to warn her cousin that, in her opinion, she could well be about to find herself at the receiving end of the earl’s disapprobation! Casting a hurried glance about her to ensure that the earl was not within earshot of her remarks, she was about to whisper her misgivings into Helena’s ear, when her attention was suddenly diverted by the sight of Dr Redfern and his sister making their way across the room towards them. Her face lighting up with delight, she at once thrust aside any qualms she might have had regarding Markfield’s possible irritation and, nudging her cousin’s arm, exclaimed, ‘Oh, do look who’s coming to join us, Nell! Now we can be comfortable again!’
Pasting a welcoming smile on her face, Helena could not help feeling that, until she was certain that she discovered what lay behind his sister’s somewhat baffling allusion, being comfortable in Redfern’s presence was likely to prove rather difficult, insofar as she was concerned. Stifling the sigh that threatened, she did her utmost to focus her attention on welcoming the newcomers and set about presenting them to the countess. As if it were not sufficiently taxing to be beset by the constant feeling that Barrington was lurking somewhere close by, she found herself thinking, the idea of being obliged to fend off unwanted advances from the family physician was enough to make her feel like grinding her teeth in despair!
Some time later, however, although his promise of acquiring cooling drinks for them had eventually been fulfilled by the arrival of a waiter bearing a tray of glasses, of the earl himself there was still no sign. Her ladyship had taken to muttering tetchy imprecations under her breath and Helena who, having spent most of the time tormenting herself as to the reasons behind his prolonged absence, now held herself entirely responsible for his failure to return. Having done her best to dismiss the highly embarrassing incident on the dance floor from her mind, she was unable to fully recall the exact train of events that had followed her initial shock at seeing Barrington. She remembered Markfield urging her to pull herself together, along with his helping her back to her seat, considerations for which she had felt entirely grateful at the time, although she was bound to admit that his subsequent haste to remove himself from her presence had left her in little doub
t as to his feelings over the incident. Biting back the tears that threatened, she could only suppose that his lordship, disinclined to subject himself to any further public discredit at her hands, had elected to steer well clear of her for the duration! Just how much worse could this dreadful evening possibly get, she wondered forlornly as, conjuring up a counterfeit smile, she rose to her feet to allow Charles Standish to escort her, for the second time in Markfield’s absence, out on to the dance floor.
‘Can’t think what can be keeping Richard,’ he said, looking towards the doorway with a puzzled frown. ‘It’s not like him to be so neglectful of his duties. Grandmama is not at all happy about it, I can tell you!’
Reflecting that it was unlikely that her ladyship could be feeling as wretched as she herself did at this moment, Helena merely shook her head and tried to focus her attention on the complicated movements of the cotillion.
Chapter Thirteen
Although Helena was unaware of it, Richard’s feelings of despair were running very much in parallel with her own. With the recurring image of her wide-eyed, ashen-faced expression occupying his brain, his abiding aim was to get hold of a reviving drink and get back to her as quickly as possible. As to what had been the cause of her sudden attack of giddiness, he was unable to fathom for, although she had claimed to have been overcome by the heat, it had been impossible for him to miss the unmistakable look of panic in her eyes. Upon reflection, it occurred to him that perhaps his reference to her dead brother had been responsible although, despite his admittedly short acquaintance with her, Helena had hardly struck him as being the kind of female who indulged in the sort of vapourish fits for which his Aunt Adelaide was renowned! Shaking his head, he could only hope that, whatever the reason for the puzzling vertigo, a cooling drink would quickly restore her to her former doughty self.
A Marriageable Miss Page 15