“You jolly well better,” the girl at the table snapped. Then she pointed to the dresser. “There’s a bottle of gin there! Pour me out a glass and bring it here!”
Fanny wanted to get away but she did not dare ignore the orders of the already irate young woman. She was shocked that Virginia should be drinking at breakfast—it was not a promising sign. She went to the dresser and found a partially empty bottle of gin and some small glasses. She filled one and carried it across to Virginia’s breakfast table.
Fanny no sooner put the drink down than the blonde girl took a large gulp of it. Then her eyes fixed on Fanny and she put aside her unfinished drink to ask, “Have you served me before?”
She shook her head. “No, miss.”
“Your face seems familiar, I vow!”
Fanny was trembling. “I’ll return later!” And she turned to go.
“Wait!” Virginia cried out and she jumped up from her chair and seized Fanny’s arm and wheeled her around. The blonde girl’s face was distorted with rage as she went on, “I know you now! You’re the ‘mystery singer’ of last night!”
Fanny pulled free of her and stood pale-faced as she asked, “Will there be anything else, miss?”
The blonde girl laughed nastily. “What a joke! Wait until I tell the others! It was a maid whom George foisted on us last night as his mystery lady! Special attraction for the Prince!”
Fanny turned once again and rushed out of the room with Virginia’s harsh laughter ringing in her ears. She went to another room to work, still trembling from the ugly scene. She could not understand how anyone with Virginia’s beauty could have such a cruel, hateful nature.
It was mid-day before she returned downstairs to help in the kitchen. She said nothing to anyone about her confrontation with Virginia. But while she was polishing silver Viscount George suddenly appeared in the kitchen. He paid his respects to Lily and then came directly to her and took her aside.
“I know about your meeting Virginia,” he said grimly.
“I’m sorry she found out,” Fanny said unhappily.
The young man frowned. “It was not any fault of yours. She is the one who has behaved most unsportingly!”
“Did she tell all the others?”
“Those who are still here,” George said. “Happily, most of them are my good friends and really didn’t care who you were. So no real harm has been done except that I’m bitterly disappointed in Virginia.”
“She evidently felt resentment at being deceived,” Fanny said, trying to make the best of it.
George sighed. “She behaved in her usual selfish fashion. You mustn’t feel badly about it. And you won’t have to worry about seeing her again. She’s leaving for home within the hour.”
“It didn’t matter,” she said quietly. “Perhaps there was something to say for her side of it.”
“I can’t agree with that,” the Viscount said. “I wanted you to know I’m most deeply grateful for last night and for the way you’ve accepted things today.” With that he left.
As soon as he’d gone Cousin Lily came up to her to ask, “What did the young Viscount want?”
Fanny said, “He thanked me for last night.” She felt telling more would only complicate things.
Lily’s round face showed concern. “I can’t have him popping into my kitchen whenever he likes. It keeps the staff on edge. I hope that settles it!” And she waddled back to the table where she was arranging vegetables on a huge platter to go upstairs.
Fanny also devoutly hoped it would mark the end of George’s interest in her. And for a while it seemed that it would. Then the following day there was another rush as word was given out that Prince Aran and his entourage were leaving. Fanny was in the drawing room polishing the beautiful mahogany and rosewood furniture when Peg came hurrying into the room and up to her.
Peg’s freckled face was serious. “The Marquis wants to see you in his study!”
“The Marquis!” Fanny echoed, nervously twisting the dustcloth between her hands.
“I’ll take that,” Peg offered. “He said you was to come at once!”
“I’m not even neat!” Fanny worried. “I’ve been working all morning.” She gave the cloth to Peg and smoothed her apron and adjusted her cap. “Will I do?”
“You always look first class,” Peg consoled her. “I just hope he’s not going to give you the sack.”
Fanny sighed. “Anything is possible. This is getting to be a strange house.”
She quickly made her way to the book-lined study of the old Marquis and found him standing near the doorway waiting for her, leaning on his cane. He was not alone. Prince Aran, in a dark coat and trousers and a white turban was also there, as was Viscount George. She needed only to glance at George’s face to see that he was troubled about something.
“Come in, my girl,” the old Marquis said in his hoarse voice. “You know the Prince and my son. No introductions needed. Do sit down for a minute.” He indicated a large leather chair.
She sat gingerly on the edge of the big chair. Looking up at the Marquis, she said quietly, “Yes, sir?”
The old man seemed embarrassed. He cleared his throat. “Yes!” he said. “Rather difficult to know where to begin. The fact is, you have made a most commendable impression on the Prince. He considers you a young woman of great talent!” He pointed his cane at the Prince. “I suggest you take it from there, Prince Aran.”
The Prince nodded impassively. “Very well, if that is your wish.” He turned to Fanny and in a grave voice said, “I have an offer to make you.”
“An offer?” she said in surprise.
“Yes,” the Prince said, his brown face showing no expression and his voice completely even in tone. “I believe you would be useful in my palace to teach some of my brothers and sisters English. Also to instruct them in the ways of the Western World.”
“But I am not a governness!” she protested.
“You could be,” Prince Aran said. “I’m willing to pay you any reasonable sum and guarantee your passage back to England at any time you find the post or the conditions of the country unpleasant.”
She could hardly believe her ears. It was indeed a most generous offer. It would lift her from the level of a servant to an honored position in the household of a Prince. But she had no desire to leave England for India. Her ambitions were to make her name in the theatre and London was the place for that. Also, despite the Prince’s cautious approach she wondered if her position would truly be that of governness, or if once she was in India the Prince might suggest something less proper. For all his calm demeanor, she had seen his greedy eyes on her the other night and she worried that he might have thoughts about making her one of his concubines.
Slowly, she replied, “You honor me with your offer, Prince Aran.”
“I have given much thought to this,” the Prince said soberly. “I think you would make an important contribution to my household.”
The old Marquis coughed again, and said, “You understand this is entirely between you and the Prince. I have merely asked you here at his bidding.”
George, who had been rather nervously standing in the background, now stepped forward. He looked at Fanny directly and said, “What my father means is that we are in no way involved in the offer. We are not encouraging you to accept it nor does it have our approval.”
Prince Aran’s black eyes took on a sharp look as he snapped, “Are you saying you disapprove? And are you speaking for yourself, Viscount, or for the Marquis as well?”
George met the Prince with a stern face. “I first speak for myself. But I would assume that my father is in agreement with me.”
Prince Aran glanced at the old man. “Marquis?”
The Marquis scowled and shifted his weight on his cane. “I’m not sure this girl would be as useful as you think, Prince. India is not an easy country. Her health might suffer due to the change of climate.”
Prince Aran’s tone was now icy. “That is your only con
cern, Marquis?”
“Oh, quite!” The old Marquis said awkwardly. “I should say it is up to the young lady to make such an important decision. And perhaps she should have more time to think about it.”
“Most certainly,” George agreed.
The Prince smiled coldly. “I fear that is impossible. As you know, I leave here in a few hours. My ship sails in the morning. If Miss Hastings decides to honor me by accepting the position she must make up her mind immediately and prepare to leave at once.”
“You’re giving her no time to think it over,” George said. “That is hardly fair, Prince.”
Prince Aran shrugged. “I would have expected more consideration and assistance from you, Viscount. We are comrades from our college days.”
“I must be honest with you,” George said firmly. “I think you are asking too much, too hastily.”
The Prince turned to Fanny again. “It would seem, Miss Hastings, that this solely depends on you. Let me assure you once more of the high esteem in which I regard you. And I offer my regrets that I have had to make my offer so belatedly.”
She knew that the Marquis was unhappy about the offer but desperately trying to humor the Prince. George was less concerned. But it was plain that neither father nor son liked the appearance of the Prince’s proposal.
She said, “I thank you, Prince. But I cannot make such an important decision on such short notice. I am honored and will consider it. If you wish to write the Marquis later I will be glad to send you word of my final answer.”
The Prince showed no emotion. Calmly, he said, “I regret the position is only open to you now. The future is another matter. I regret you have decided against it, but I accept your decision.” He bowed and turned away as if the matter were ended.
The old Marquis pointed to the door with his cane. “That is all, my girl. We will need you no further.”
She rose and hastened from the room. A moment later George followed her out into the corridor, closing the study door after him. He grasped her arm.
He said, “You gave me some bad moments. I was terrified you’d accept! Did you think my father and I wanted you to?”
She smiled ruefully. “I think you made it quite clear you didn’t. I fear you have lost a friend in Prince Aran.”
“Then let it be,” the young Viscount said. “Father will handle him and try to get him in a better mood. I’m not at all sure that his intentions were as honorable as he pretended.”
“I doubted that also.”
“Fanny!” he gazed at her with undisguised admiration. “I have come to care deeply for you. I realized that there in that room just now!”
She tried to pull away from him. “You mustn’t,” she whispered. “You are betrothed to Virginia Andrews, and even if this were not so, you are a Viscount and I’m only a servant!”
“Confound Virginia! I have no patience with her!” George said vehemently. “And as for the rest of it, there has to be a way!”
“Please let me go!” she urged him. “Someone will come and see us!”
“I must talk with you more!”
“Later!” she said in an effort to get away.
“Tonight,” George said at once. “In the gardens! Meet me by the arch of roses.”
“Perhaps,” she said, pulling away from him.
“Midnight,” he whispered, and kissed the hand he was holding before he let it go.
She rushed down the corridor in a state of confusion. She had endured one surprise after another. No sooner had she settled the matter of the Prince than she was faced with George and his declaration of love. The unhappy thing was she also loved him. If there were any hope for them she would gladly take him from Virginia. But it would be no victory if she ruined his future! She must not cause a conflict between father and son.
In mid-afternoon she watched from an upstairs window as Prince Aran took his leave. It seemed to her he was coldly formal in his goodbyes to the Marquis. She also saw that George was not present. The Marquis shook the Prince’s hand and an unsmiling Aran entered the closed carriage. As she watched it drive off she could not help wondering what her future might have been if she’d accepted his offer.
For the rest of the day she worried about whether or not she should keep her rendezvouz at midnight with George. One part of her nature warned her against it, while the other urged her on. He had asked to talk with her more about his love for her and in the end she decided to give him a chance to do this.
Midnight came and she cautiously emerged from her room and made her way down the back stairways to the ground level of the old mansion. Then she went out into the gardens. It was a pleasant night in early June and the air was warm and fragrant with the aroma of the various blooms in the large, well-tended gardens.
The arch of roses was some distance from the house. She made her way there quickly. Once a cat darted across her path, a gray blur moving swiftly in the moonlight and vanishing in the bushes opposite. It gave her a start but as soon as she realized what it had been she went on. But when she reached the arch she saw no one there.
She stood there in the silver of the moonlight wondering why George hadn’t come. He had seemed much too serious to lightly change his mind. She was standing there debating whether to return to the house or not when he suddenly appeared, coming up the gravel walk toward her.
Fanny ran to him and he took her in his arms. He kissed her ardently and held her tightly to him. He said, “I was detained. My father is still in his study worrying about Prince Aran. He gave me a long lecture about handling Indian royalty!”
She looked up at him. “Did he think I should have gone with the Prince?”
“No. But he enjoys blaming it all on my bluntness,” the young man said. “Let us forget about it. We have other more important things to discuss.”
They found a secluded spot by the bushes where he spread her cloak on the ground and they both stretched out on it. Again they were in each other’s arms.
After a period of kisses and caresses, she said, “I love you, George. But we both know it’s no good!”
“No,” he insisted. “Give me a little time until father gets over his present distress. Then I’ll tell him about us.”
“He expects you to marry Virginia!”
“I shall tell him it’s hopeless! That I love you! He thinks you are a most unusual girl. I’m certain he’ll relent and give us his blessing.”
“You truly think that?”
“I do,” he said. “You must leave our service and take up residence somewhere else with a chaperone. After a suitable time our engagement will be announced. No one need connect Miss Fanny Hastings with the servant girl here.”
“Virginia Andrews will!”
“I think not,” he said. “She does not know your name. And let us hope by then she will have found someone else and have forgotten all about us!” He kissed her again.
“George, I do love you so!” she breathed softly.
“I’m parched for you,” he whispered in her ear and at the same time began feverishly to unbutton her gown. She gave him no opposition and soon he was fondling and kissing her bare breasts.
Her misgivings were lost in her ecstasy as their naked bodies joined in a frenzy of passion. She felt the firm thrust of his manhood and in her eager response forgot all else.
When their passions were spent, he continued to hold her closely to him. He was not her first lover, but her previous venture with a shy country lad at home melted into nothingness compared to this. She knew their affair was unwise but she could not help herself.
Chapter Three
The weeks which followed were incredibly happy ones for Fanny. Her romance with George continued and they plotted to meet frequently at various places. On her days off they had a rendezvous in an empty cottage on the estate. In the evenings they often met in a corner of the large gardens. And, becoming more bold as the affair continued, it occasionally happened that George made his way to her small attic room late at
night.
The question of the future was always with them though George tried to avoid it when he could. He urged her to be content with their present happiness and in time he would talk to his father. But somehow the talks never seemed to come to pass and though this troubled her, she did not dare to nag him about it.
In the back of her mind there was still her girlhood dream of going to London and making a career for herself in the theatre. This exciting fantasy had sustained her through some of the hard days of growing up and once again it loomed in her mind as a possible alternative, should George not be able to marry her.
She was deeply in love with the young Viscount and she hoped that in the event he did not marry her there would be no match between him and Virginia. She had formed a far from favorable opinion of the blonde girl. If George were reckless enough to enter into a marriage with the shallow and bad-tempered Virginia, Fanny knew he would be bidding farewell to any chance of happiness.
The weeks went by quickly and the romantic conspiracy between Fanny and the young Viscount continued. In late August there was a garden party on the grounds of Brenmoor and once again the household staff were unusually busy. She could not help but notice that Virginia, in a pale blue gown in the latest style and wearing a wide brimmed hat of blue with trailing silk ribbons to match, was much in evidence at the garden party, and that a good deal of the time she was on the arm of Viscount George.
The young man did not seem at all unhappy in the company of the shallow, vivacious girl; in fact it seemed to Fanny that he was enjoying himself. Since he was called to London on a mission for his father the next day she did not have a chance to discuss this with him. But the next evening she heard a discussion in the servants quarters between her cousin Lily and Marsden which set her to thinking. She was seated in a corner of the big kitchen near the two and could not help overhearing what was said.
Marsden, settled back in a rocking chair with a pipe in hand, told the stout cook, “I happened to be in the drawing room this morning when the Marquis was talking to the Reverend Kenneth.”
Vintage Love Page 125