The Valentine's Day Ball

by Julia Parks

  “Said he was on his way out of town. He stopped by to redeem his vouchers.”

  “Redeem his…Odd, I wonder where he found the money.”

  “I’ve no idea. I thought I’d never see the ready. I mean, the fellow’s a bit on the seamy side, if you ask me. Farley’s the one who brought him the other night. You know Farley when he’s had a drink or two.”

  “Yes, we all know Farley. Well, I’d best be going, Giles. It was good to see you.”

  b

  Pipkin signalled the footman to open the door as Drew raised his hand to knock. Drew handed his riding gloves and hat to the footman and smiled at the butler. Pipkin, of course, displayed no emotion.

  “Hello, Pipkin.”

  “M’lord. Miss Lindsay is expecting you. If you’ll just step this way?”

  He followed the butler through the great hall, past the gold salon and the state dining room to the long ballroom. Crossing the shining marble floor, Pipkin opened one of the French doors and stood aside to let Devlin pass.

  Drew stopped. “Where is she?”

  “In the summerhouse, I believe, m’lord. Right this way.”

  “Never mind, Pipkin. I know the way. I’ll announce myself.”

  The butler’s chest swelled, and he turned to study him. Drew met his gaze. He could have rebuked the servant for such insolence, but he said nothing.

  Then Pipkin intoned, “‘He that diligently seeketh good procureth favour: but he that seeketh mischief, it shall come unto him.’ Proverbs 11:27.”

  “I am familiar with that passage, as I am sure you are with, ‘The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord; and he delighteth in his way.’ Psalms 37:23. Your mistress will come to no harm from me, Pipkin.”

  With the glimmer of a smile flavouring his dour expression, the butler said, “Very good, my lord.”

  b

  Jane dreamed of being alone, locked in a tomb but the tomb was made of glass. It was her funeral, and there was a great crowd looking down at her. But they couldn’t see her, couldn’t tell she was watching them. The drone of the rector filled her ears.

  Then, suddenly, it was silent, the crowd evaporated. Only two people remained—Drew and Lady Cynthia. They kissed and touched, writhing on the top of her glass casket.

  Jane screamed, “Stop! Stop! Oh, please, Drew, stop!”

  She sat up, chest heaving, eyes wild.

  “Jane! It was only a nightmare! Shh, Jane, shh.”

  Drew sat on the edge of the chaise longue, his arms around her in comfort. Jane stiffened and pushed him away.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, Lord Devlin.”

  His countenance puzzled, he said quietly, “Lord Devlin? What were you dreaming, Jane?”

  “I don’t remember,” she lied, swinging her feet to the floor on the opposite side so he couldn’t see her face. She rose, straightening her gown as she regained her composure. “I didn’t mean to go to sleep. I’ll have to change before we ride.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” he said quickly.

  Jane only nodded and began walking toward the house. Drew caught up with her easily. After a moment of her continued silence, he asked, “Has something happened, Jane?”

  She stopped and faced him. She read the concern in his dark eyes and steeled herself against it. He really had no idea how his defection to Lady Cynthia had shaken her. Nor did he realize how difficult it was to keep a proper distance between them. If he touched her, she might cast away her resolve to keep him at arm’s length.

  Shaking her head, Jane did give him a slight smile. “I’m just a bear when I awake.” She took his arm, and they continued to the house.

  “By the way, I stopped in at your jeweller’s this morning.”

  “Thank you. I talked to Mickey, just as you said. He told me he was robbed on the way back to Heartland.”

  “Yes, and unfortunately the jeweller couldn’t recall any suspicious-looking characters in his shop.”

  “I would have been surprised if he had. I sent a messenger to the local magistrate, just to warn him about a highwayman in the neighbourhood. He wasn’t very encouraging about finding the culprit. I daresay I’ve seen the last of the Heartland pendant.”

  “I would have another made for you, Jane, if I thought it would help. But I know it is the sentiment attached to it that you miss.”

  “That’s true, but I thank you for helping me, Drew.” They walked in silence for a moment. Climbing the steps to the terrace, Jane asked, “Did your mother enjoy the assembly?”

  “Definitely. I escorted her to the Pump Room this morning, and she was quickly taken over by her new friends.”

  “I’m not surprised. She is a lovely person.”

  “Yes, I’m finding out how kind she really is. When I was younger, I couldn’t understand her.”

  “You weren’t close when you were growing up?”

  “No. Mother always tried to excuse my uncle’s cruelty. For me, there was only black or white, nothing in between.”

  “A common malady of youth, I believe. But you and she appear to enjoy each other’s company now. You’re very lucky to have her.”

  Drew opened the French doors. “I know I’ve always believed a person made his or her own luck. But sometimes, good luck just finds you.” He smiled into her eyes then allowed her to enter the house.

  Jane knew his words had a double entendre, but with new resolve she dismissed his remark as mere flirtation.

  Soon they were riding through the home wood. The path led to the ruins of the old abbey. Lord Devlin’s mood continued to be flirtatious, which suited Jane very well—she had no trouble keeping up with his light banter. There was no tension—physical or emotional—to discomfit her. She was relieved that he hadn’t referred to the previous night.

  They dismounted when they reached the ruins. It had been several weeks since Jane had visited the abbey, and she spent some time wandering through the fallen stones with the silent viscount following. Her memories of her father were as vivid as ever.

  “It must have been difficult for you, Jane, coming here the first time after your father died.”

  “Yes, I still remember that visit. I could almost hear my father’s words vibrating amidst the stones.”

  “And now?”

  “Now it is silent, peaceful.”

  She turned and smiled. Leaning against one of the three remaining walls, Drew looked incredibly handsome and rugged. Jane changed the subject.

  “I received letters from Cherry and Aunt Sophie today. They are each convinced the other one is unreasonable and obstinate.”

  “About Paris?” he asked and Jane nodded. “Don’t we all when we don’t get our way?”

  “No, at least I hope I may not have such a narrow view.” She looked up at the clear blue sky and frowned. “That sounded like thunder.”

  Drew moved closer to her. “Have we reverted to the weather for a topic of conversation?”

  Jane shook her head. “It must have been my imagination. What were we discussing?”

  “How narrow-minded some—” Drew glanced up and cried, “Watch out!”

  With this, he shoved her away from the wall, knocking the breath out of her as he dove on top her. There was a thunderous crash.

  Trying to catch her breath, Jane could only stare in horror at the huge stones scattered where she had just been standing.

  “Jane! Are you hurt?” demanded Drew. She shook her head, and he leapt to his feet, running around the wall to the crumbling staircase on the other side.

  Jane followed, clutching her ribs. Gradually, her breath returned, and she shouted, “What are you doing? You can’t go up there! It’s not safe!”

  Drew turned, his eyes lit with cold-blooded determination. “Someone must have managed to climb these steps. I intend to find out who it was.”

  “Drew! Don’t be ridiculous! Why would anyone wish to harm us?”

  “Not us—you.” He continued to climb while Jane wat
ched in fear. He lost his footing and sent a shower of small stones to the ground as part of the stairway collapsed.

  “Drew!” screamed Jane. “Please come down! There’s no one there. The abbey is old—it’s tumbling down about our ears.”

  “Quiet!” he commanded, and Jane glared at his back.

  He stepped onto a narrow walkway that ran the length of the wall. In the past, it had been a corridor leading to the monk’s chambers. Now, it was little more than a ledge.

  Jane closed her eyes and whispered a quick prayer. When she opened them, Drew had disappeared. She ran along the wall, searching for some sign of him. Suddenly, Jane gasped.

  “Easy!” said Drew, grabbing her arms as she tripped over another fallen stone.

  “How did you get down here?”

  He held up a rope. “This was tied around the tower up there. I simply swung down to the ground. It took only a matter of seconds.”

  Jane paled and Drew led her to the shade of a nearby tree to sit. Jane shook her head and said, “But who would want to do harm to either of us? I have no enemies.”

  “I don’t wish to contradict you, Jane, but there have been too many suspicious incidents lately. Perhaps there is a disgruntled tenant?”

  “Suspicious incidents?” she whispered.

  She watched as he controlled his expression, giving her a gentle smile of reassurance. “You are right. It was nothing but an accident.

  “The rope was probably left there by some local boys. Tying it around the tower no doubt loosened some of the stones. We shouldn’t let it bother us, but I don’t think it would be wise to visit the abbey alone in the future.”

  “No, I doubt I shall.”

  He pulled her to her feet, but made no attempt to embrace her. Jane tried not to feel disappointed.

  “Come, let’s go home. I could stand a glass of ale. It is terribly warm today,” said Devlin.

  “What? Reduced to making conversation about the weather, my Lord Devlin?” Grinning, she returned to the horses. As he threw her into the saddle, she yelled, “Race you to the first fence!”

  b

  Monday morning dawned bright and clear. Jane dressed in a severely cut carriage dress of hunter-green. Her hair was pulled back in a tight chignon at the nape of her neck—her schoolmistress look.

  Tom Summers, clad in red and black livery, drove the open landau at a spanking pace to Laura Place. The young groom, James, hung onto the back, smiling and winking at the pretty servant girls as they rolled along.

  Jane was shown into the soothing salon at Laura Place where Mrs. Peterson joined her only moments later. They lost no time going out to the carriage. James hopped to the ground and assisted them into the well-sprung vehicle.

  “It is so kind of you to show me around the countryside. You shall be much better company than a mere guidebook, my dear.”

  Jane laughed. “I should hope so. I always imagine guidebooks are written by musty old dons who are bent on boring schoolboys to death.”

  As they crossed the Old Bridge, Faith Peterson said, “What a beautiful Judas tree.”

  “That path leads to the Chapel of St. Mary Magdalen. It was built in the Middle Ages. For a time, it was a house for lepers, hence the significance of the blood-red Judas tree blossoms. We are going up to Beechen Cliff. It is an excellent vantage point to view the city and all the countryside beyond—it is four hundred feet high.”

  A short time later, Tom Summers pulled up on the ribbons. “Will you be wanting to walk about, Miss Lindsay?”

  “Yes, Summers.” The groom jumped down and ran around to open the carriage door. After helping each of the ladies to alight, he stood rigid as a soldier.

  “James, would you set out that basket and some carriage rugs?”

  “Yes, Miss Lindsay,” he said, bounding into the carriage and gathering the items Jane wanted. He spread the rugs under a tree and placed the basket on top of one.

  “Will there be anything else, miss?”

  “No, we’ll do. You may come back for us in about an hour.”

  “Very good, miss.”

  Jane led Faith along a rock-strewn path, close to the edge of the cliff. “If you look across the valley, you can see the Royal Crescent and Lansdown Hill beyond.”

  “It is beautiful. Now, what is that hill?”

  “That’s Solsbury Hill. Below it is Swainwick, a delightful little village. It was the first site of civilization in the area, though I’m not certain how civilized it was. Bath has been occupied by the Romans and Danes, as well as the native population. It was originally called Aquae Sulis, so it has long been known for its healing waters. Legend has it that a British king named Hudibras had one son named Bladud. This son contracted leprosy and was expelled from the village. In order to survive, Bladud became a swine herder. He gave his pigs the disease, and it was they who found the healing waters.”

  “Very believable—have you tasted the famous waters? They taste like swine have been bathing in them.”

  Jane chuckled. “The other version of Bladud’s legend is that he built a temple to Minerva, the Roman goddess of medicine. According to this legend, Bladud used black magic to make the healing bath.”

  “Oh, I much prefer the swineherd theory.”

  “I must confess I do, too. As a little girl, I would beg my father to tell the story over and over. I could just see Bladud, a future king of Bath, cavorting in the pigsty!”

  They shared a laugh over this tale. Then Mrs. Peterson asked, “Where is all the limestone found for which Bath is so famous?”

  “Most of it is in the quarries on Combe Down. Ralph Allen, who patronized the revival of elegance in Bath, owned it. The architects Wood senior and junior used it for many of their buildings. Those massive columns on the fronts of the houses in the Royal Crescent are all Bath limestone. The houses, so magnificent in front, are quite dull in back. This led to a saying in the past century, ‘Queen Anne in front and Mary Ann behind’.”

  “There now—you see what I mean! A guidebook never gives one such interesting tidbits!”

  “Would you like to return to the blankets and have some of Cook’s pastries now?”

  “That sounds delightful. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. I slept too late after Martha FitzSimmon’s literary evening. I’m just not accustomed to these late nights yet.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay in Bath, Mrs. Peterson?” asked Jane as she opened the basket.

  “Yes, you can’t imagine how heavenly it is to have nothing to do all day but visit with people. My brother-in-law’s estate in York was too isolated to allow daily contact with the outside world.”

  “That must have been difficult for someone who seems to enjoy people.”

  “It was, at times. I had a small circle of friends who would visit me on occasion, but nothing like this. Of course, I shan’t allow myself to become an idle fribble entirely. I have spoken to your rector—Hall, I believe is his name—about helping with the parish poor. I suppose once a clergyman’s daughter…”

  “So you are well and truly settling in. Does Drew plan to make his home here, also?” asked Jane casually.

  “For the time being. But even if he doesn’t like to think about it, someday he will be Earl of Cheswick. His responsibilities will require him to spend part of the year in York. And then, if he chooses to take his seat in the House of Lords, London will be his residence when Parliament is in session.”

  “I didn’t realize he was interested in politics.”

  “Not politics—government. He feels very strongly about helping the poor, regulating the factories that are springing up all over the country. But, of course, you wouldn’t know that about Drew. That’s hardly a topic he’d choose to take up with a pretty young lady.”

  “I don’t see why not. I am interested in such things. It is the duty of all of England’s citizens, men and women, to take an interest in the less fortunate.”

  “True, but as women, you and I do all we can throug
h our church work. That is the way of society. And never belittle the importance of the work we do, Jane. Our work is more personal—we have the satisfaction of seeing the children happy and smiling, rather than hungry and sullen.”

  “You’re right, of course. How is it, just the mention of Drew’s name, and I am all up in arms?” said Jane.

  “I wouldn’t dare guess, Jane. But I do think it’s an excellent question for you to ponder. My, but your Mrs. Brown makes the best teacakes I have ever put in my mouth!”

  Tactfully changing the subject, they debated the efficacies of one ingredient over the other when baking teacakes.

  b

  That same afternoon, Drew again rode to Heartland, but he entered the grounds through the back pasture. He guided his big grey stallion into the woods, circling the green lawns until he had a view of the driveway. Then he dismounted and tethered his horse in the shelter of the trees, away from prying eyes.

  His mother had told him she and Jane intended to go sightseeing that day, and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity Jane’s absence would provide.

  Drew hadn’t discussed the incident at the abbey with his mother when he returned to Laura Place, but it was foremost in his mind. That night, he had declined an invitation to join his friends at cards so that he might set his thoughts in order. This had long been his way of dealing with problems. And he felt certain these accidents represented a very real problem—protecting his Jane, preferably without her knowing.

  Donning his green brocade dressing gown, Drew had settled in a comfortable chair in his sitting room. His mother had gone out, and he had sent the servants to bed, preferring to be completely alone with his thoughts.

  The first incident had been the locked crypt door with him and Jane trapped inside. Havelock had been present on that occasion, but Drew hadn’t seen that as a threat, so he hadn’t interrogated Havelock. The other people at the abbey that day were all in London, so he couldn’t question them about Havelock’s movements.

  The shelf falling in the larder did represent a threat to Jane, and he would need to question Mrs. Brown about that. True, it hadn’t proven to be life-threatening, but the accident was suspicious.