‘Oh, in that case,’ he advanced a disconcerting step nearer, ‘and asked so charmingly, I will make a point of seeing him this morning and telling him you are suffering from a press of business. To tell truth, I had thought you found him entertaining.’
‘Why so I do,’ she hinted at a yawn. ‘Within reason. But every day, you must admit, is the outside of enough.’
‘I am delighted to find you share my feelings. The best young man in the world, but just a trifle obvious would you say?’
‘I would indeed.’ Her sigh of relief was genuine.
He smiled at her. ‘If the worst comes to the worst, make the supreme sacrifice and send him out to Winchelsea to consider “improvements” there.’
‘Oh, I hope it won’t come to that!’
‘Frankly, so do I. I like the place very well as it is. But, talking of Mr. Jay and his party, I had almost forgot my errand to you. It occurred to me this morning that we are at the very end of the year. You might, if I know you, just possibly find yourself short of funds. So here, if you will accept it, is a small contribution towards your expenses for the party, which I have no doubt will be immense. You won’t be insulted by cash, I hope? I happen to have a good deal by me, since the cotton crop sold so well.’ And, to her unspeakable delight, he handed her a comfortably filled purse.
The touch of his fingers was electric, but, thank God, he did not feel it. And, thank God likewise, the blush she felt covering her face was reasonable enough, under the circumstances. ‘La, my dear,’ she smiled at him a little tremulously, but kept her tone light, ‘You are too good! To tell truth, I have quite dreadfully outrun the constable and was at my wits’ end where to turn! I have not even a pair of gloves fit to go with my new dress for the party. But you think of everything!’
‘I do my best to. And, in fact, here is something else for you.’ He reached into his pocket and handed her a small gold key on a length of finely wrought chain. ‘I am sorry not to have given you this sooner, but I have been down to the locksmith’s to have its mate cut, since the men could not find it in the wilds at Ruffton. In the meanwhile, I hope you will find the chain some substitute for the one you have lost.’
‘Oh!’ Could she think of nothing else to say? What a fool he must think her. ‘You are too good. It’s beautiful—’
‘Like the wearer.’ He smiled that heart-stirring smile of his. ‘You will be glad to be reunited with your jewels, I know. I shall expect to see you in diamonds at least at Scarbrough’s tonight. But I am keeping you from your toilette. With Anne and Alice, you will hardly need me to act your maid, as I used to in Paris.’
‘I should rather think not! But, a thousand thanks, just the same.’ Why was the picture of him acting as lady’s maid to Josephine so intolerable? It was a relief to see the door close behind him. She turned to Anne. ‘What diamonds?’
‘I cannot imagine. He never gave her diamonds.’
‘Strange. He was funning, I suppose. I wish I understood him, Anne.’
‘Oh, well.’ It was rough comfort. ‘It’s more than madame ever did.’
***
Josephine had had a dress specially made for the opening of the theatre, and the party to follow. ‘No one’s been inside the theatre,’ she had explained. ‘At least no one who counts. But by what Mr. Jay tells me it is to be a perfect riot of colour — gold, crimson and green. I’m sorry for the women who decide to wear colours. For me, I shall be all in white, with just the faintest touch of silver.’
It was the most beautiful dress Juliet had ever seen, and she actually spared a moment to feel sorry for her cousin who would have delighted in the occasion she, herself, so dreaded. ‘You’ve lost more weight,’ said Anne disapprovingly as she watched Alice’s neat hands at work on the dress’s tiny buttons.
‘Well, do you wonder!’ And then, remembering Alice. ‘With all the preparations for tonight’s party! I wish to goodness Hyde had not insisted on inviting Mr. Jay to dine first: I would much prefer to be alone.’
‘The master’s mighty sociable these days.’ Alice stepped back to study the fit of the dress. ‘I don’t remember so much dining and wining since the old mistress was alive.’
‘Yes, I’m quite worn out with it.’ Juliet was also very much puzzled. What had happened to the man Josephine had described as ‘socially a barbarian’? Had he gone through some kind of change of heart while his wife was away at Winchelsea? They had not sat down alone together once since she arrived. Admittedly this had all kinds of advantages for her, since it both spared her the hazards of tête-à-têtes with him and gave her a chance to meet, one by one, or two by two, the people who were to be her guests tonight. But just the same, it would be a crowning mercy if she got through the evening without some disastrous faux pas.
‘It’s beautiful!’ Alice was satisfied.
‘Yes —’ Doubtfully. The stark white tissue, with its thin thread of silver was undoubtedly the most ravishing dress she had ever seen. The only trouble was that it showed her frightened face, under the heavy auburn hair, white as a ghost’s.
‘Just the faintest touch of colour?’ Alice’s hand reached knowledgeably for one of the little pots of French make-up that Juliet had investigated with distaste.
‘No!’ And then, more mildly. ‘Not tonight, thank you, Alice. Remember, it is bound to be scorching hot in the theatre, so crowded as it will be. I shall have colour enough by then. Yes, the pearls, I think.’ What a disaster if she should lose them. Most things Josephine would forgive, but not that. Better to lose her husband? It was a disturbing thought.
‘And for your hair?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was interrupted by Venus’s son Sam with a florist’s box. ‘Oh, how lovely. But where in the world —’ It contained two perfect white camellias, and a note: ‘Rare for the rarest, fair for the fairest: wear them tonight for me.’ And an intricate pair of initials so intertwined, so idiosyncratic that they might have stood for almost any pair of letters in the alphabet.
‘The very thing!’ As Juliet puzzled over the note, Alice had taken the flowers and was already busy working them into her crown of hair. ‘Someone must adore you, ma’am, to find you camellias at this time of year.’
‘Oh, a piece of nonsense.’ She managed to make it sound as casual as Josephine would have, but it was with a new burden added to her load of anxiety that she swept down the stairs. The giver of the flowers would expect to be thanked. She would very much rather not be wearing them, but what in the world else could she do?
For the first time, Mr. Jay was late. She had taken it for granted that he would be here by now, and was not quite able to restrain her tiny twitch of dismay at sight of Hyde awaiting her, alone, in the study.
‘Your gallant comes late.’ Had he noticed? ‘But you must forgive him, this once, since he must be nearly mad with anxiety. If I had not compelled him to come here, I am quite sure he would have eaten nothing all day.’
‘It was good of you to think of it.’ If only he was not quite so frighteningly handsome in full evening dress.
‘How fine we are!’ Could he have read her mind? ‘I tell you, my dear, your appearance quite reconciles me to the fag of all this dressing up. The flowers, I take it, are a well-earned tribute from Mr. Jay?’
Immensely tempting to let him think so, but impossibly dangerous. ‘Why, no,’ lightly. ‘They are from an unknown admirer; is it not the most romantic thing? He hides behind a pair of initials so illegible that I defy his own mother to recognise them.’
‘Oh, in that case, I rather think we might dispense with his flowers, if you are agreeable? I had had it in mind that this was the night for you to appear in these.’ He picked up a set of jeweller’s boxes from the table beside him. ‘I think my mother would have wished it. And, if I may take a husband’s liberty, they will add a touch of colour which your delightful appearance somewhat lacks.’
‘You are too good.’ How useful formal phrases were. She opened the small box at the top of the pile,
and green fire flashed out at her from a pair of earrings. ‘Emeralds!’
‘The emeralds,’ he corrected her. ‘The Winchelsea emeralds. And your birthstone, as you have reminded me, from time to time. I do hope, my dear, that you approve of the way I have had them reset for you. They were quite gothic before, if I remember your words correctly.’
Josephine’s birthstone, not hers. An absurd wave of superstitious terror washed over her as she forced herself to open the other cases, revealing a close-fitting necklace of the same brilliant, unlucky gems and then an exquisitely designed flower piece to be worn in the hair. ‘You see,’ he said, as she gazed at this, ‘we shall be able to dispense with Mr. Incognito’s tribute.’
‘And I’m glad of it.’ She moved over to the glass. Characteristic of Josephine that there was a gold-framed glass in every public room in the house. Her hands shook a little as she removed the camellias. Unlucky to wear them? Unluckier still to wear emeralds that were not her own?
‘You must let me help you.’ He threw the camellias in the trash basket, then moved over to stand behind her, his tall figure dominating hers in the glass. ‘You were used to think me a handy enough lady’s maid.’ He took the emerald flower from her trembling hand and adjusted it neatly among her glowing curls. ‘There, that’s better. And the necklace.’ A strange, long shudder went through her as his warm hands fastened it round her cold neck, but he seemed to notice nothing. ‘No doubt you would prefer to put the earrings on yourself.’
‘Oh, yes, thank you.’ Her hands shook so much that this was almost impossible, but Mr. Jay’s appearance provided the distraction she needed. By the time he had done apologising to Hyde for his deplorable lateness, the earrings were safely in place.
They had champagne to drink Mr. Jay’s health and success to his theatre, and Juliet felt her courage rise with the bubbles in her glass. But when old Adam, the waiter, came to fill it for the third time, Hyde’s outstretched hand prevented him. ‘Forgive me, my dear, but we have a long evening ahead of us. Mr. Jay and I will need cool heads too, before it is over.’
For a moment, she was furious; she needed that extra glass! Then, incorrigibly, she shook with internal laughter. So this was marriage. Disconcertingly, Hyde’s eyes met hers, laughing too. ‘A husband’s privilege, my dear, and may I say how well that angry colour suits you?’
***
Mr. Jay’s theatre was overwhelming. As guests of honour, Juliet and Hyde found themselves in the first row of boxes, just to the right of the seats reserved for the mayor and the other dignitaries of the town. They had arrived early, for Mr. Jay’s sake, and as the theatre filled up with a brilliantly dressed crowd, Juliet had ample time to look about her. Gilded columns supported the first row of boxes, golden eagles adorned them and crimson panels separated each one from the next. The seats, too, were crimson, though, looking down, she could see that those in the pit were green.
‘And look at the curtain!’ Hyde’s voice was dry.
‘I was! What in the world do you think it represents?’
He laughed. ‘Ingrate! Poor Mr. Alton spent the longest dinner I have ever sat through telling you all about it, and now you ask me what it represents!’
‘Good God!’ She made a quick recovery. ‘That prosy bore! You expect me to listen to him! I remember about the temple, of course, but who in the world are the ladies in front of it?’
‘The Muses, my dear. And the gentleman they are pulling along with them is Shakespeare himself.’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I should have remembered that. And of course the plump gentleman in the foreground is Falstaff.’
‘Precisely. Just as the one in the scarlet tartans is Macbeth. Entirely surrounded by the weird sisters — but you will doubtless not have heard of them.’
‘No.’ Josephine had never looked at a play of Shakespeare’s. ‘They look a disagreeable set to me.’
‘Not what one would choose for one’s dearest friends,’ he agreed with her gravely. ‘But, seriously, my dear, what do you think of Mr. Jay’s masterpiece?’
‘Sumptuous.’ She turned to face him. ‘And vulgar beyond belief.’
‘I am relieved to find that you agree with me. But we shall be in a minority, I am sure, and a silent one, of course.’
‘Of course. Poor Mr. Jay.’
‘Nothing of the kind. Listen!’
And indeed the house echoed with a buzz of enthusiasm. ‘At least it’s safe,’ Hyde went on. ‘These gilded pillars are all of the best cast iron, and you can see how many entrances there are, in case of fire. But here come the big-wigs.’
Naturally, Josephine would know them all. The formal greetings, the bowing and curtseying were an agony to Juliet, but the very formality of the occasion was her salvation. They were safely seated at last, and she did not think she had betrayed any fatal ignorance. If only she could feel equally secure about the party that was to follow the performance. The theatre held a thousand people, but it was safe to assume that her guests would be in the boxes around and above her. She strained her eyes, trying to see how many of her visitors and the passers by from the square she could recognise in the full panoply of evening dress, with hair piled high and trimmed with flowers, feathers, and even, in one remarkable case, artificial fruit. When the lights were dimmed at last, and Mr. Cherry’s play, The Soldier’s Daughter began, she leaned back in her seat with a sigh of relief. No need, at least, to pay attention to this.
But the interval presented a new hazard. Everyone rose to troop out to the lobby and refreshment rooms at the front of the building. She thought for a moment of pleading fatigue and suggesting that they stay where they were, but it would be too hopelessly out of character. Besides, in this kind of casual intermingling, she might have a chance to identify a few more of her prospective guests.
The refreshment room to which Hyde led her was decorated in the same lavish style as the rest of the building. ‘Wait here.’ He settled her on a crimson plush seat. ‘You would like a cold drink, I am sure. It’s deplorable that we still have no ice in Savannnah, but doubtless they will have done their best.’
‘Yes, please.’ The champagne’s glow had faded now, leaving her tired and dry. It was a relief to be alone for a moment in a crowd every member of which was concerned with the immediate problem of securing refreshments. Miraculously, Hyde had led her to a seat that stood a little by itself. On a larger one, beyond a golden pillar, a group of red-faced women were vigorously fanning themselves and complaining, loudly, of the heat. She was almost sure that Josephine would not know them. But the fan was an admirable idea. She opened hers in her lap and made a little business of smoothing out its ostrich plumes. Much safest not to look about her and so risk cutting one of Josephine’s dear friends.
‘At last!’ The deep, angry voice drew her eyes up with a start. He loomed over her, dark, bewhiskered, sallow-complexioned, furious. ‘I should have known better than to look out for my flowers,’ he went on. And then, with a sneer. ‘Naturally, they could hardly compete with the Winchelsea emeralds. My congratulations on prising them out of old tightfist at last. My camellias, I assume, were exactly the lever you needed. But a line of thanks, of apology even, might not have come amiss.’
‘I am so sorry.’ No; Josephine would not apologise. She made herself smile up at him, archly. ‘That you are disappointed.’ The smile became genuine as she remembered Hyde tossing the camellias into the trash basket. It served this bad tempered stranger richly right. ‘But you have it exactly, of course. What is even the rarest flower compared to an emerald?’
‘I said, “Wear them, tonight, for me.”’ This man was dangerous.
‘Why, so you did.’ She was frightened, but would not show it. ‘But, you see, I had to wear the emeralds —’
‘For me.’ Hyde’s voice saved her. ‘I am glad to see you safe back from your Spanish venture, Fonseca. Sooner, surely, than you had intended?’
‘Much sooner.’ He turned the full blast of his fury on Hyde. ‘Since
some blabbermouthed jackass chose to blow the whole affair to the Spanish authorities. I found them waiting for me at the border. Oh, as courteous as you please, and be damned to them —’
‘Ladies are present,’ Hyde interrupted him.
‘A lady?’ He favoured Juliet with a comprehensive, withering scrutiny, then looked beyond her to the red-faced group who had stopped their chatter to listen, open-mouthed, to his angry voice. He made them a sweeping bow, ‘Your pardon, ladies, I quite forgot where I was.’
‘Sir —’ But Hyde was silenced by the loud clangour of the bell that summoned the audience back for the farce. At once, the crowded room was in a whirl of movement; the red-faced women leapt to their feet as if in some kind of a race and swept between Hyde and Fonseca, but not, Juliet thought, before one long, speaking glance had passed between them. Then Hyde was putting the untasted drink carefully down on the flat head of a gilded cupid. ‘Forgive me for being so long, my dear. The crowd at the bar was quite intolerable. Let us wait here, shall we, until the worst of the press is over?’
‘Yes, do let us. But, Hyde —’ How could she ask it? ‘Mr. Fonseca —’
‘Is in a very bad temper,’ he said equably. ‘Having had his plan to have a parcel of slaves smuggled north out of Florida blown to the Spanish authorities. Though I don’t know what else he expected when he talked about it all over town before he left. I heard of it from a dozen sources and I have no doubt that you had it from the man himself. How else could so devoted a cavalier have explained his expected absence from your party? I suppose he was invited, by the way?’
‘Good God, how should I remember?’ They were back in their seats, the curtain was rising for the farce, she had no further chance to ask about that significant exchange of glances between the two men. Probably she was refining too much upon it. It was true that southern gentlemen had an appalling reputation for fighting duels over the merest trivialities, but Hyde was not like that. He was civilised.
All for Love Page 6