Long Acre

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Long Acre Page 12

by Claire Rayner


  She stared at him for a moment, and then shook her head. ‘I daresay you are right. I hate the idea of working as a dancer — but work we must. And anyway, I daresay I could persuade him to let me do other things — but, Mr Laurence, how can I now? I have upset your family shockingly, and behaved very badly. How can I go to them and — and oh, it is not to be borne!’

  ‘Nonsense!’ His voice was very bracing. ‘You have but to go downstairs and say prettily that you were sorry you allowed yourself to be so overcome by emotion and — ’

  The door behind him opened, and Fenton’s head appeared in the crack and at once she was on her feet.

  ‘Fenton! You are beyond any shadow of a doubt the most hateful, unbelievable, nasty creature it has ever been any female’s lot to have to deal with, and if you think —’

  ‘I shall go away again if you don’t stop that noise! And I shall go back to the drawing-room and undo all the good I have done on your behalf — and anyway, what did I do that was so terrible?’

  He came into the room and grinned cheerfully at Felix. ‘I’d sure hate to be a female, hey, Laurence? Going off into such fusses for no reason!’

  ‘No reason? When you know perfectly well I can’t dance? How could you —’

  ‘Oh, pooh! Can’t dance? I thought you danced very well, didn’t you, Laurence?’

  ‘Very well,’ Felix said. ‘There is no doubt that with a little advice and practice she could give a most creditable display.’

  She whirled at that and looked at him very hard. ‘So you don’t think I was any good, then!’

  ‘I did not say that. I said that you could give a creditable performance, with teaching and practice.’

  ‘Then how can you advise me to accept Mr Lackland’s offer? If you think I am not up to scratch —’ her voice was tinged with a note of tragedy.

  ‘Oh, come, Miss Lucas, you’re doing it up rather too brown, you know! One minute you tell me that you know you are no dancer, and then take umbrage because I agree that you need some practice! Do be reasonable — I have not said you lack talent! Indeed, I think you have a good deal. But it is senseless to get up into your high trees because I do not lie to you, and tell you you are Terpsichore come again!’

  Fenton gave a great crack of laughter. ‘How very well you read my sister’s character, Laurence! She is a shocking little —’

  ‘I’ve had enough of you to last me all evening, Fenton.’ Her voice was low and very cold and he stopped and looked at her and she said menacingly, ‘I mean it. It is rare that I set my face against you, but tonight you have behaved appallingly and led me into a very unpleasant situation. I will have no more of it, and so I tell you. Do you understand?’

  He looked at her consideringly for a moment and then nodded, and smiled. ‘Well, you are right, I daresay. I should not have thrown you in deep water as I did, but you acquitted yourself very well, and the upshot of it is all is well worthwhile! I have made all smooth and no more will be said about any of it. Your stamping about, I mean, and so forth.’

  ‘Then we may return to the drawing-room in peace, and welcome the New Year?’ Felix stood up. ‘We have been away quite long enough, I feel.’

  ‘I am sorry if being with me bores you!’ Amy flashed at him and he smiled that curling wide-lipped smile she was beginning to feel was very familiar.

  ‘Oh, come, Miss Lucas! You should know better than to try such missish tricks as that! You know quite well what I mean. Which is simply that we have been away long enough. You say, Lucas, that you have made all well with the family?’

  ‘Indeed I have. I told them that my sister is suffering from an excitement of the nerves following on my injury and all that has happened to us since our arrival in England — which I am sure you will agree is very likely — and that she will be happy to accept the kind offer of employment made by Mr Lackland, as I am, so that we may repay the many loans we have had, and also start to put ourselves in some sort of order. Mr Lackland has asked that we attend at his Supper Rooms tomorrow afternoon, Amy, and I have said we shall. Mrs Caspar has been most understanding about it all — so you may come back with your head up. All is forgiven — if you forgive me, that is?’

  She looked at him, her mouth set in a hard line, and tried to hold on to the anger with which his behaviour had filled her, but he cocked his head to one side and smiled at her, and all his usual magic began to work on her, no matter how hard she tried to prevent it. Despite herself her lips quirked and then she was smiling and shaking her head in mock despair.

  ‘How any female can cope with you, Fenton, when even your sister is so easily cajoled, I cannot imagine,’ she said. ‘I should scold you all night and half the morning for your behaviour, but —’

  ‘But you won’t,’ he grinned widely and turned back to the door. ‘Well, Mr Caspar has sent for some more punch with which to welcome 1867, and I must be there to join in! I would not miss it for the world, for I am quite convinced that this is to be our year. Amy! The annus mirabilis for the Lucases! I’ll tell them you’re coming —’

  Felix crooked his arm for her, as Fenton went hurriedly through the door, his limp less in evidence than it had been earlier, and after a moment she took it and walking sedately beside him went down the stairs to the next floor.

  At the drawing-room’s double doors she stopped, and looked sideways at him. ‘I don’t think I can,’ she said, her voice rather tremulous. ‘I really don’t think I can. No — I am not acting now, truly I’m not.’ She looked at him imploringly. ‘I do act a great deal of the time, as I think you have recognized. I daresay physicians are extra smart about such things. But —’

  He shook his head at that, smiling a little. ‘It’s nothing to do with being a physician, Miss Lucas. It’s to do with being — well, never mind. I am glad you realize that you are acting as much as you are. It would be sad if you were one of those people who were so busy putting on different faces that they did not know what the real one was like.’

  She looked up at him in the dim light of the hallway, very conscious suddenly of the rich carpet beneath her feet, the heavy pictures on the walls and the glossy double doors before which they were standing, hearing the muffled voices of the rest of the party coming from the other side.

  ‘Perhaps I am like that,’ she said slowly. ‘I don’t really know sometimes —’

  He shook his head, and his hand came down on hers in the crook of his arm. ‘Well, I would not worry about it. If you can be aware, as I say, that is a large part of the battle.’

  ‘Battle?’

  ‘Well, perhaps that is a bad word at that! Search might be better. The search for sincerity. It is rare, and many people never find it. Especially those who never look.’

  ‘You are a very unusual person, Mr Laurence, aren’t you?’

  ‘Do you think so? I have never considered myself much different from my fellows.’

  ‘Oh, but you are — you are! If you only knew some of the men I have talked to — all — all gawping, you know, and making sheep’s-eyes, and being very boring you would know how different you are.’

  He smiled more widely at that. ‘Perhaps it is not their fault they make boring sheep’s-eyes, when it is what you demand of them.’

  She drew away from him a little, but his hand remained warmly over hers and she could not move far away. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that you have perhaps a special performance for susceptible young men. Is it not possible that you show them a picture of a girl who is so pretty and charming and witty that they cannot fail but be dazzled and lose their commonsense? If they behave so, is it not you who make them do it? It is quite easy for some people to make others dance to their piping. And if that dancing does not appeal as much as was hoped — well, you must not blame the dancers for it! Nor must you object to the way some listeners fail to dance at all —’

  Her face suddenly became exceedingly red. ‘I am sorry if you have seen me as a — as some sort of heartless flirt, Mr Laur
ence. I may act a great deal, since that is my chosen avocation. But it does not mean that I am a — that I behave to men so that — as you have suggested —’

  ‘I am sure it does not.’ He was still smiling that curly easy smile but now she found it far from attractive. It seemed to have mockery in its curves and it was not a kind chiding mockery, but one in which there was too much sharp knowingness.

  ‘I’m glad to hear you say so,’ she said stiffly. ‘Now — ’

  ‘Yes. Now. Shall we go in?’

  ‘I — ’ She swallowed. ‘I have already told you that I feel I cannot. I am grateful to you for your concern, Mr Laurence, but I think I will go home now. If you will forgive me. I would be further grateful if you would make my apologies to the company, and thank your cousin for her kind hospitality. I will call upon her in the future to tender my thanks in person, of course. Goodnight, Mr Laurence.’

  And she pulled her hand from his elbow and turned and went down the wide flight of stairs to the quiet hall below with what dignity she could muster, stepping out as delicately as behoved a young lady, although every part of her wanted to run headlong down the stairs and out into the street, and back to the cosy little house in Long Acre.

  She heard the drawing-room doors open, and an upsurge of the sound of chattering voices, and then they closed again, and tears prickled her eyelids. He might think her a flirt, he might be quite untouched by her charms; but surely he could have behaved like a gentleman and escorted her to her home? To leave her to go alone, and on such a night like this —

  By this time she was at the door and the imperturbable butler appeared from the back of the house and picked up her cloak and muff from the marble table upon which they lay, and she put them on, averting her face so that he should not see the tears which were now edging her lashes. That hateful Mr Laurence! And she had thought him so kind and gentle and —

  The butler bent his head. ‘Shall I send out for your coachman, Miss? If you are leaving early, perhaps he is not ready? I will certainly send a footman to find him, however, if you wish it —’

  ‘Never mind, Tansett.’

  She turned sharply, to see Felix coming quietly down the stairs.

  ‘I shall see to it that Miss Lucas returns home safely. You go to the servants’ hall now — I’m sure you want to see the New Year in, and it wants but a few moments — go along now —’

  The butler went with alacrity and she stood there in some uncertainty. A large part of her was crying out to throw a great scene with much foot-stamping and ringing announcements that she would not accept his care of her. But another and more sensible part was warning her that he would only stand there quietly and smile that crooked smile and wait for her to finish. And anyway, the weather —

  She turned and with some effort pulled the heavy door open and peered out, as Felix, behind her, struggled into his coat. It had stopped snowing now, and the Square lay before her white-shrouded and luminous and very quiet.

  The sound started gently at first with a remote chime and then seemed to grow like a bubble as nearby chimes took it up, and increased until it seemed to her that all the air was filled with it; clocks and bells shouting a melancholy farewell to a dying year, a hopeful greeting to the newborn one.

  She stepped forwards out on to the top step and stood there looking up at the sky scudding with clouds and with a few stars appearing fitfully and let the melancholy fill her. She thought of faraway home, of long ago New Year evenings spent with familiar faces, in familiar places, and enjoyed the luxury of letting the tears on her lashes increase and then tumble down her cheeks, making no attempt to wipe them away.

  ‘A happy and prosperous New Year, Miss Lucas,’ Felix Laurence said quietly and she turned her head and looked at him standing in the shadow of the doorway behind her, her eyes huge and mournful, and he put out one hand and with the edge of his little finger swept the tears from her cheeks.

  ‘Shall we forget all about last year? Last year we seemed to start a hopeful friendship, and then spoiled it. I think we should forget that, and meet as strangers again, now that 1866 is dead and gone. May I introduce myself? Felix Laurence, at your service. I have never met you before. How do you do, ma’am!’

  She looked at him for a long moment and then blinked and sniffed and tried to smile a little. ‘Yes, I think that — how do you do, Mr Laurence —’

  ‘Miss Amy! — Oh, Miss Amy, I had so hoped that — A Happy New Year!’

  She turned again, and stared down the steps and saw Graham Foster on the pavement below her. His hat was in his hand and his up turned face looked pale and drawn in the feeble light thrown from the half open door.

  ‘I know I said I would not return until one o’clock, but as the time drew near, I felt I so much wanted to be near you. And now you are here!’ He ran up the steps to stand very close to her, and she could smell the faint hint of brandy on his breath and thought confusedly, ‘He did more than just study while he was waiting,’ and turned her head to look for Felix. But he had drawn further back into the doorway and only his shadow could be seen.

  ‘I — Mr Foster! I have been worried about you. Have you been well bestowed all this time? I would have asked Mrs Caspar if you could —’

  But he was not listening, just standing there staring at her with his eyes very wide open, and a look of quite ludicrous adoration on his face and she broke off and shook her head and said sharply, ‘Mr Foster, please, do not look at me in that stupid fashion!’

  ‘I cannot help it — I cannot help it!’ His voice was thick, and it was clear that he had been sipping his brandy at a pretty steady rate all evening. ‘Ever since I held you in my arms this evening I have been able to think of nothing but the softness of you, and the sweet scent of you, and the touch of you and, oh Miss Amy, I do love you so much. I would die for you, I really would, I would dig up roads for you, if you asked me! I can think of nothing else but you and —’

  ‘Oh — you, you —’ She was so acutely aware of Felix there in the shadows behind her that she lost all her common sense and all her intrinsic kindness. Although Mr Foster’s behaviour was not the sort to which she was usually exposed, still, she had always been able to stop such lovesick declarations painlessly, even in full flood, as long as she kept her head. But tonight she did not. She just stamped her foot and shouted, ‘You stupid man! You stupid, stupid creature, be quiet! I do not want to know of — be quiet!’

  So violent were her tones that even in the depths of his brandy haze Graham Foster heard her and stopped his flood of words and stood there blinking at her. There was a long pause and then uncertainly he lifted his hand and rubbed one cold cheek and said, ‘I — I beg your pardon, Miss Amy. I had no right — you are quite right, of course. I have been very stupid, I am but a foolish medical student, and you are — well — please to forgive me. I think — it was cold, and the stable men offered me some brandy and — I am sorry.’

  ‘Oh — you — you have spoiled everything!’ she said, and put out her hand to him. ‘I did not mean to be so unkind, truly I did not. But you were being so very foolish, I had to stop you and —’

  ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ he said, and his voice was quieter now, and a little more blurred. ‘I —’

  From behind her came the click of the door, and she turned her head and looked, and realized that he had gone. Felix Laurence had gone back into the house, and left her out there in the snow with a silly half-drunk fool, and she did not know who she hated most in consequence, Felix Laurence, the half-drunk fool, or herself.

  CHAPTER FLEVEN

  Amy sat in the broad marble-floored hall, her head down and contemplating her gloves held crushed between her hands which were on her lap. That she had managed to come this far had amazed her. That she, who had never in her life followed any young man anywhere, who had never apologized, had never attempted to explain, should go to the trouble she had to track him down and actually come after him was a source not only of surprise but also some shame.
Not until she had actually found herself passing under the elegant gateway and into the busy courtyard that led to the hospital proper had the embarrassment of it hit her. But then, as she had made her way under the lamp in the portico and into the building and actually seen the people inside — the same sort of frock-coated young men and calico-aproned nurses who populated Nellie’s — it had come over her like a great wave beating on a seashore. What was she doing here?

  She thought again about the past week; and the horrid interview with a sick and sorry Graham Foster who had blushed and stammered and then told her icy countenance that he was desperately sorry, that he would never ever again behave so; about Fenton’s unusual sympathy for her in her distress — for she had indeed made a dreadful fool of herself that New Year’s evening — and the way his unwonted kindness had made her feel worse than ever; and she let her head droop even further.

  It had been a most disagreeable week, and the misery of it had made her feel positively bewildered. She had always been a sunny-tempered individual, and well able to shake off any attacks of the bluedevils, and to be upset for more than a day, for whatever reason, was exceedingly unlike her. Yet now, because she had been made a fool of in front of a young man with a square friendly face and a square stocky body she was thrown into total disarray.

  It had been yesterday, waking once again with a heavy feeling of misery and a dull ache in the middle, that had hardened her resolve. Clearly she would have to find Mr Felix Laurence and explain to him. He would have to be told. That thought had warmed her considerably and she had eaten her breakfast with almost her old appetite (making Mrs Miller beam in relief, for she had been most upset by Miss’s moping, as she had told her silent daughter) and set off for Mr Lackland’s with quite a spring in her step. He would tell her how to find Mr Laurence. After all, he was his cousin, in a sort of a way, was he not?

  So, during a day of rehearsals for the new show Mr Lackland was preparing and which would strongly feature Mister and Miss Lucas, Newly Come to Town from Boston, Massachusetts, she had watched for her opportunity, and, during the luncheon break, had prattled artlessly to the bedazzled Mr Lackland about his family, and most especially his adopted cousin. (And, incidentally had thereby made him feel much happier. The rehearsals for the new show had been going very badly, with Miss Lucas drooping sadly and showing no verve at all in her dancing, despite his most careful coaching. And now for the first time she was displaying some of the animation and magic that had affected him so deeply at his sister’s house. He began to feel much better —)

 

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