Silence fell. Lavinia looked around again, swallowed, opened her mouth but closed it without uttering a word. Guilt was written all over her.
A mature lady dressed in puce satin and ostrich feathers hurried forward.
“Lady Sarah Carstairs! Sally, my dearest friend. It’s absolutely an age since I’ve seen you.”
The spell was broken. The stranger stepped toward Lavinia, offering her an arm with a murmur that reached her ears alone. Under his protection she fled to a sofa at the side of the room to hide her confusion. A buzz arose as couples everywhere turned to talk to one another in hushed, discreet tones, although their eyes were alight with speculation.
Lady Sarah looked as happy as she’d looked severe a few moments before as she returned the greeting from the woman in the puce satin. “My dear Alice, such an old friend is here! Lady Bicton, do you remember my daughter?”
Lady Bicton shook Alice’s hand with a great good will. “Of course, but you were not yet out when last I saw you. Your mother and I were in school together, in Bath, don’t you know. We lost touch when all that nonsense with your father happened. You’ve turned out most remarkably well, my dear. You’re a credit to your mama.”
Lady Sarah smiled at the bluff, good-natured praise. “May I introduce you to our benefactor, Lady Bicton? Alice and I are living with Sir Edward Masterman now.”
“Since when have you had to ‘Lady Bicton’ me, Sally? We’re far too old friends for that nonsense!” She proceeded to dig Alice in the ribs with her fan. “But if that handsome captain standing beside you should happen to be Sir Edward, I’m not averse to meeting him. No, indeed!”
Alice tried hard not to laugh. Captain Delacourt had heard every word, as had half the room.
“May I present Captain Joseph Delacourt, my lady? He’s one of our party, but I fear he’s the wrong captain!”
“Nonsense. Just as good as t’other one, I’m sure. You’d be off the Euterpe now, would you?”
Joe Delacourt tried to hide his shock. “Why yes, my lady. I’m very pleased to meet you. May I ask how you know about my frigate?”
“Got you there, didn’t I, my boy? But there’s the signal for dinner. You can take me in. I’ll have to meet your other officer afterwards, Sally. Can’t leave his lordship waiting, can we?”
With sublime disregard for precedence and hugely pleased with herself at having snared a very personable young man to sit beside her at dinner Lady Bicton swept out of the room. Joe Delacourt managed a rueful grin over his shoulder as he was born inexorably onwards. Alice and her mother were left somewhat dumbfounded until Lady Sarah burst into a trill of laughter.
“If that isn’t just like Ellie Yarrowby. She was a terror at school, Alice, an absolute terror and she hasn’t changed a bit. I wonder where Lord Bicton can be tonight? I don’t see him.”
Sir Edward appeared at their side. “I can answer you that, ma’am. He’s at the admiralty, advising the First Sea Lord! Joe couldn’t have planned this better if he tried. He’ll wangle himself a new appointment in no time. May I escort you in to dinner?”
Lavinia was forgotten in the general bustle. There must have been upward of forty people finding their places. Alice sat between a Mr. Daniels, visiting from Dublin and a young gentleman of very retiring manners, who was a relative of their host. The irrepressible Lady Bicton was seated two places up the table, well within earshot, while her mother was some considerable distance away on the other side of the table, with Edward by her side. Lavinia could not have found an unluckier place, as she was seated directly opposite her brother-in-law.
Mr. Harris, Lord Malmesbury’s relative, allowed his admiration to show plainly on his face as he stumbled through the introductions that had been overlooked in the scene which had just taken place. Mr. Daniels appeared to be a likeable rogue, but no danger to Alice once he ascertained that she wasn’t related to anyone of influence in the room. He set out to entertain and Alice decided to be pleased with his company.
The variety and sheer quantity of the repast spread before her was almost overwhelming. Champagne in iced goblets, beef, roast fowl, mutton, fish and, of course, the turtle soup, were all displayed before her eyes, not to mention vegetables ranging from the exotic to the mundane. At least there were no turnips that she could see. Repressing a little shudder she waved away the turtle soup and accepted instead an asparagus crème she could sup with a clear conscience.
Never had a meal passed so enjoyably. Hugely entertained by Lady Bicton, who kept up a constant stream of highly scandalous gossip whenever there was a moment’s silence, Alice countered Mr. Daniel’s sallies and gently encouraged Mr. Harris whenever she noticed that he was struggling to produce a comment. Just before the ladies rose he summoned up the resolution to ask her for a dance.
“Why, Mr. Harris, I should be delighted,” she said, winning his undying gratitude.
When they took to the floor for the first dance some half hour later she quickly discovered that the quiet young man was a very good dancer. His expression took on more animation than she’d yet seen in him and his conversation became much less stilted. They could both laugh at the absurd spectacle of Lady Bicton, quite the oldest female on the floor by at least ten years, skipping through the figures like a debutante. Joe Delacourt was bent on encouraging her, too.
And why not, Alice thought. Surely anyone was entitled to dance if they wished.
After a pair of dances with Mr. Harris Alice danced the next with Captain Delacourt before the band struck up a waltz. There were a few shocked faces to be seen and one or two younger ladies were shepherded to the seats by their frowning mamas, but the floor still filled rapidly.
Alice felt a touch at her elbow. “Are you game to risk your toes, Miss Carstairs?”
Her heart skipped a beat as she turned to face Sir Edward. His smile came close to unsettling her completely. Unable to say a word and conscious of the heat suffusing her cheeks she accepted his proffered arm and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. He slipped into the step with more ease than she expected.
“I’ve not yet had an opportunity to compliment you on your gown, Alice. You look so beautiful.”
The simple statement almost caused her to falter. There could be no mistaking the sincerity in his expression. She was forced to look away until she could marshal her chaotic thoughts. There was silence for a short time until Sir Edward spoke again.
“We have successfully negotiated two turns now. Are you not proud of us?”
She looked back up at him then and gave a laugh. “Yes, indeed!” You have been practicing.”
“You didn’t suppose I was going to allow Joe Delacourt to take the shine out of my eye, did you? I’ve managed to obtain a vastly superior partner, also.”
“What? He’s not dancing with Lady Bicton again, surely?”
She glanced around the room and sure enough the redoubtable lady was twirling around the room, full of merriment. The broad expanse of puce satin and the height of her plumes allowed only the veriest glimpse of her partner, but there was no mistaking the naval blue and white. A giggle of wicked enjoyment escaped her lips as they watched the antics for a few moments.
“How kind of him to indulge an older lady’s whims.”
Sir Edward looked askance. “I don’t know who is indulging whom. Lady Bicton is wide-awake to his suit. I’ll have to cut him out and make a try myself. When I pluck up the courage I’ll rely on your good offices to introduce me.”
“Have you not met her ladyship yet? She’s an amazing person.”
Sir Edward shook his head. “No, I’ve not had the pleasure, although I’m fairly well acquainted with her husband. I was asked to dine with him at his club when I brought in a prize a few years ago.”
“Well, now is your chance.” Alice came to a halt as the musicians finished their tune with a flourish. “We have successfully negotiated this whole waltz without a mishap. I’ve enjoyed it tremendously.”
“Thank you. I take that as a m
ost gratifying compliment. May I take you back to your mama?”
“No indeed, Sir Craven Heart. Lady Bicton awaits.”
Bowing to his fate Sir Edward crossed the room and stood meekly as Alice performed the introductions. Lady Bicton summarily dismissed Captain Delacourt to find her a glass of punch and patted the seat of the sofa beside her.
“Just the man I wished to meet! Alice, your mother was looking for you a moment ago. There she is, talking to that woman with the frightful ostrich feathers. Off you go, my dear. I’ll return your swain to you presently.”
Alice exchanged a speaking glance with Sir Edward before abandoning him in her ladyship’s clutches. Her last glimpse of him was blocked by a head full of feathers far more frightful than anything else in the room. Not even a poisonous look from Lavinia as she passed dampened her feelings of happiness. The ball was proving every bit enjoyable as she’d imagined it would be.
Lady Sarah also had a smile upon her face. “Alice, I’ve met so many old friends. You’ve been keeping yourself entertained so I’ve lost no time in catching up with all the news. How isolated I’ve been in Wiltshire! I had not realized it before.”
Indeed, it had been her mama who had paid the worst price for father’s misdeeds. She’d had so much taken from her. It was Edward who was responsible for their happiness now. Alice could only love him for it all the more. And there he was, taking to the floor with a lady nearly old enough to be his mother. Lady Bicton had secured another victim. Just as she was settling in to enjoy the sight Alice saw the man in the plum coat approach her mother’s side. Lady Sarah smiled, but Alice could read her expression very well. He wasn’t to be encouraged. Politeness, however, was her way of life.
“Señor Garcia, we meet again.”
The man bowed, flashing a set of teeth that made a startling contrast to his dark skin. So he was Spanish, was he?
“Lady Sarah, you’re so good to remember me!”
Alice thought her mother’s tone more than a little astringent as she replied. “It’s not yet five and twenty minutes since we were introduced, Señor. It’s hardly surprising.”
His smile never faltered. “Perhaps not. May I have the presumption to beg an introduction to your most beautiful daughter?”
There was nothing further from her mama’s wishes, Alice was sure, but other than the most appalling cut there was nothing to be done. Alice felt the warmth of his hand as he grasped hers after bowing deeply and smelled again his pomade as he asked her to dance. His flamboyant style and extravagant compliments as they moved down the room filled her with a mixture of contempt and hilarity. What a popinjay! Before they had completed half the figures he had told her of his Spanish home, his magnificent plantation in Trinidad, the vast number of slaves he owned and of his trip to buy furniture and paintings in England now that the high seas were safe again.
He claimed her hand again, an hour later, this time for a waltz. More alarmed at his familiar manner than she wished to admit she accepted with reluctance. Señor Garcia danced well. It seemed his only interest in her was to quiz her about Lavinia. Relieved to have his attention diverted from herself she managed to relax.
As soon as Joe Delacourt replaced him as her partner she forgot all about the detestable Spaniard. No one could spend time in the captain’s company and not be brought under his spell. If it had not been for Edward how easy it would be to lose her heart. No matter that Lavinia continued to send malicious glances her way. No matter that the tyrant in France lay ready to wage war at any moment. Captain Delacourt swept all care aside with his infectious good humor. Truly, it felt good to be alive.
Chapter Eleven
The carriage passed between the fields of growing corn. The return journey to The Priory had been uneventful. Everyone was tired. There was silence in the vehicle, broken only by the odd word from the coachman and the steady beat of hooves on the road. There had been no word at the ball of Bonaparte’s movements on the continent. The Lord Lieutenant would have been among the first to know any news, after all. The gentlemen were anxious for home and the papers from London, but not so anxious as to speak of their fears in front of the ladies.
Alice mused as she regarded the landscape. So much had happened since she’d stood at the schoolroom window and looked out over the fields only just touched with the hint of green. There was no way she could have imagined such momentous happenings in her life. To be thrust so unjustly into prison, to be reunited with her beloved mother, to be dancing at a ball given by the Lord Lieutenant. Yes, these had been milestones of a sort, but all them faded into the background as she contemplated the most significant event, her first meeting with Edward. Whatever else happened to her, when parted they must surely be, nothing could compare with the impact he had made. Just to sit and look at him as she was doing now caused a heat to bloom in her heart. Undoubtedly she would love him forever.
The coach swept along the drive, only to be pulled up more quickly than usual as the coachman discovered another vehicle blocking the entrance steps. A few well-chosen words to the footman sitting on the box beside him had the man jumping down to move the offending gig. After only a short delay the ladies were able to descend.
“How strange,” Alice remarked. “That looks like the baker, Smedley’s, gig, but what in the world would he be doing at the front door? We rarely purchase anything from him now.”
“And if we had purchased anything, he knows better than to drive to the front of the house like this,” her mother added. “It must be someone else.”
Barlow threw open the door. “Welcome home, my lady, Miss Alice. Welcome home, Sir Edward.” He bowed them in, but Alice was swift to notice the constraint in his manner.
“Is something amiss, Barlow? Does Sir Edward have a visitor?”
“Of a sort, Miss Alice. Mr. Smedley has called on a matter requiring Sir Edward’s services as justice of the peace. I requested him to come back later, not knowing when you’d be returning, but he has insisted upon waiting and the boy with him.”
“Boy? What boy?” Sir Edward handed over his cloak and hat. “No, never mind. See that the ladies and Captain Delacourt have some refreshment, Barlow and I’ll come and sort this out. Joe, see what’s to be had from the papers, will you, while I deal with this man. Where have you put this baker, Barlow?”
“In the servant’s hall, sir, seeing as he wouldn’t leave hold of the boy and him being what you might call not in a fit state for your book room.”
Sir Edward turned to the ladies and his guest. “This is getting stranger by the minute. I’d better go and see this fellow and find out what he wants. Pray, excuse me. I’ll join you shortly.”
By the time Alice had laid aside her hat and pelisse and washed her hands and face Barlow had brought a tray to the morning room. A fire blazed up the chimney, not strictly necessary but welcome all the same. Sir Edward still had not made an appearance.
Lady Sarah spoke for all of them. “What does that wretched baker want, keeping poor Edward like this? It’s most inconsiderate of him.”
At that moment Edward entered the room, looking rather grave. “I wonder if I may beg your good graces to assist me, Miss Carstairs? I’m in need of a secretary to record my conversation with this Smedley. He’s most insistent on having a boy dealt with for stealing.”
“Why, of course. I’m happy to help at any time. But come to the fire and warm yourself first and have some refreshment. You must be as tired and as hungry as the rest of us.”
He smiled. “As caring as usual, Alice, but I fear this will not wait. I want this man out of my house as soon as may be. I find him…no, never mind. You’ll see for yourself.”
“I’ve had dealings with Smedley in the past. I know all about him. You don’t have to say anything further.” Alice insisted on pouring Edward a glass of wine before she would leave the room. He tossed it off impatiently, opening the door for her almost before he finished.
“If you please.”
By his formal manner
Alice could tell that he was annoyed. Two seconds after entering the book room she perceived the reason for it. Standing by the desk was a boy of about ten, dressed in little more than rags and with blood smeared across his face from an injury to his nose. There was a pinched look to him that bespoke a long-standing hunger bordering on starvation. Sitting bolt upright in a nearby chair the corpulent Smedley made a noticeable contrast. Dressed in his best broadcloth coat with his arms folded across his ample waistcoat he looked the picture of injured righteousness as he glared at the miscreant.
Sir Edward crossed to his desk. “There’s a lady in the room, Smedley,” he growled, staring at the baker until he rose to his feet. “Miss Carstairs has agreed to make a record of this inquiry.”
“As you wish, although there’s nothing to inquire about. It’s as plain as a pikestaff what the brat’s been up to.”
“That’s for me to decide.” Sir Edward held a chair for Alice, waited until she was settled with paper and ink, then found his own seat. Just as he was about to begin to speak the door opened. Captain Delacourt peered into the room.
“Don’t wish to intrude, but I thought you might need a witness not in your employ.”
“That may be for the best. By all means come in, Joe. Smedley, this is Captain Delacourt, a guest of mine. I trust you’ve no objections to his presence?”
Smedley grimaced and scratched his corpulent stomach. “Anything you wish. I just want to get on with this.”
Alice listened with growing incredulity and anger as Smedley painted a picture of a hardened criminal ruining an honest tradesman’s efforts to make himself a meager living in the hard times they were all enduring. Looking up from her writing she caught a look of burning resentment on the young boy’s face. Surely this was no criminal. This was a desperate, starving boy.
“And you claim he stole a loaf of bread?”
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