“No,” stated Nat Wesley with complete disinterest, “I don’t!”
“Well, I’ll tell you! D’you want to know what I think?”
“All right then – tell me what you think.”
“I think that when a man gets to saying — marriage is for imbeciles — hates all women, then s’all up with him! There!” He stopped dead and shook his head dolefully at his friend.
Nat stopped too, and stared with dropped jaw. “All up with him? You mean. .. .you think there’s some female he’s in love with — wants to marry? Not George! Well, I thought you were well to live but now I can see you’re drunk as a lord, Arthur!”
“Tell you!” mumbled Arthur. “A’ways the same. Once a man begins to talk like that – s’all up with him. Fact!”
“Believe in it when I see it,” said Nat succinctly, linking his arm through his friend’s and urging him on.
“Mark my words!”
“All right, old fellow,” said Nat pacifically, “I will!”
Chapter Sixteen
It was with a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement that Anastasia set out for her first evening at Almack’s.
Since her Aunt had good-naturedly assented to procure vouchers for Louisa also, and to include that damsel in her own party, they called for her upon the way.
She was obviously torn between gratification at the nature of the evening’s entertainment, and jealousy of Anastasia. However, she was not a little in awe of Lady Dunford, and so made rather less spiteful remarks than was her usual custom.
Georgiana was in high spirits, and assured her companions of the delights to come.
“Now, Anastasia, – and you too, Louisa!” said Lady Dunford as they drew up before the entrance to Almack’s. “Do just as I have told you, for you do not want to appear coming or fast. This is the first time you have appeared here, and the eyes of the Patronesses will be on you – so behave modestly, and return to me between dances.”
“If anyone asks us to!” said Anastasia. ‘That is, I am sure Georgiana and Louisa will not lack for partners, for they have many acquaintances in London, but I have not.”
“You will all dance,” said Lady Dunford placidly.
“I hope you have learned to dance, dear Anastasia,” said Louisa sweetly, “For I do not recollect ever having seen you do so.”
“You would not, for I had no opportunity for doing so! But Miss Pibworthy, my governess, who died years before you came to Derwent Place, taught me some steps, and Georgiana has been practising with me every day until I think I may get by.”
“Indeed, I think you are a natural dancer,” said Georgy stoutly, “And want only a little more polish to be quite perfect.”
The evening was yet early when they made their entrance, and the rooms were still very thin of company.
“But I don’t despair of seeing many more people arriving soon, for all Town is still so empty,” said Lady Dunford, looking about her for a chair.
Georgiana was soon nodding and smiling at her acquaintance, but Anastasia and Louisa were too busy in absorbing the scene before them to hear her murmured commentary on the various persons who came within view.
The large room was illuminated by a seemingly endless display of splendid chandeliers, under which danced, flirted, and gossiped the very cream of Society, to the strains of the band perched up above them on a balcony.
Georgiana soon went off to dance with one of her admirers, but Louisa and Anastasia were first led out by bashful young men dragooned into civility by Lady Dunford, and too interested in the wilting of their extravagantly high shirt collars, and the minding of their steps in the dance, to pay more than a token of attention to any young lady.
This suited Anastasia very well, for in this unexacting company she soon began to relax and enjoy the constantly changing scene about her.
Having engaged in a Scotch reel with another of these budding dandies, she became aware by degrees of being under observation, and her eyes were drawn to the doorway where a knot of new arrivals were gathered.
Lord Silverfield, strangely neat in the knee breeches that were de rigueur for Almack’s, looked full at her, his dark eyes strangely expressionless.
It was a look entirely at variance with that they had exchanged at Derwent Place upon their first meeting, and one that she was equally unable to interpret.
She put up her chin and gave him her delightful smile.
He looked momentarily taken aback, and then the corners of his long, sardonic mouth twitched into a reluctant grin, and he bowed.
The exigencies of the dance swept her away, and she saw him no more until she was returned to the chaperonage of her Aunt.
Louisa was there before her, fanning herself briskly with a small ivory fan and looking a trifle hot.
“I see Lord Silverfield here after all!” commented Lady Dunford in surprise. “It is not often that he deigns to grace Almack’s with his presence: but I daresay he does not mean to dance.”
Louisa blushed and fluttered the fan coyly. “He did say, when he called on us in Derwent Place, that he hoped to further his acquaintance with me in Town...” she murmured.
This earned her a minatory glance. “If I were you, young lady, I would not count my chickens before they are hatched!” advised Lady Dunford.
Louisa turned a bright and unbecoming scarlet. “What. . . whatever do you mean?” she faltered.
“Come, it is all over Town that Silverfield must marry you or forfeit his inheritance! If I were you I should try to obtain some other flirts, for if he does not come up to scratch you will look no-how if you have been hanging onto his sleeve all this while!”
This forthright speech, sensible and kindly-meant though it might be, brought tears of anger and humiliation to Louisa’s eyes.
Anastasia squeezed her hand consolingly. “Louisa, Lady Dunford only seeks to give you good advice. Let us but set out to enjoy ourselves, and let the future take care of itself!”
Lady Dunford might well have had something to say to this ingenuous remark, since she was bent upon the advantageous marriage of both her daughter and niece, and was not averse to helping along Louisa’s prospects, but her attention was diverted.
A tall young man of about twenty-six or seven had stopped beside them, and was gazing with every appearance of delighted surprise at Louisa.
“Miss Derwent – Louisa! Can it really be you? I had no notion. . . .” he stopped dead, suddenly aware of the fixed attention of two other ladies, and flushed.
“Captain Bladen!” exclaimed Louisa in trembling tones. She was glowing with excitement, and her blue eyes sparkled, banishing the sulky expression from her face.
The Captain hastened to pull himself together enough to make his bow to Lady Dunford, and to remind her of their having met the previous year. “I beg your pardon!” he said smiling at her winningly, “But I was acquainted with Miss Derwent some years ago, and was naturally delighted to see her again after such a long time.”
He was a stockily-built, sandy-haired young man, with a pugnacious jaw, but his smile was unexpectedly sweet. Lady Dunford graciously gave him permission to lead out Miss Derwent in the set now forming.
“Well!” said Anastasia, as the pair walked away with their heads together, oblivious to the world.
“Well indeed!” said Lady Dunford consideringly. “Captain Bladen... I seem to recollect...”
Anastasia looked at her expectantly.
“You know, Captain Bladen may be just what we need if Lord Silverfield is to be brought to marry Louisa. There is nothing like the admiration of Another to spur on an unwilling suitor — and he has so much to lose!”
Anastasia felt her spirits unaccountably dampened. “I suppose it may spur him on....” she said doubtfully. “At any rate, it may sweeten Louisa’s temper!”
She looked across to where the pair were chatting animatedly through a country dance. “She looks seventeen, and twice as pretty as she did before!”
“Hmm
m..” said Lady Dunford. “I perceive that I must find out a little more about Captain Bladen. Ah, the very person!” she exclaimed, catching sight of a garrulous acquaintance who could be relied upon to know everything about everybody, and capturing a passing youth to lead Anastasia out in the dance she went off to pursue her inquiries.
She had very soon elicited the information that Captain Bladen had quite lately sold out of the army on unexpectedly succeeding to the family seat and fortune upon the death in a carriage accident of his father and elder brother. He had not immediately sold out, feeling that he was needed, but after Salamanca he had yielded to the letters of his Mama and returned home.
“The Bladen family,” remarked Mrs Drummond Burrell, to whom she had turned to discuss her findings, “Are, though possessing no title, one of the older families of England. I had no hesitation in awarding him tickets of admission to Almack’s. I know his mother,” she added in more human tones. “A sad invalid!”
“And is his fortune...?” enquired Lady Dunford delicately.
“Comfortable, rather than great. But his estate in Yorkshire is extensive, and the house fine and well-situated.”
Both ladies observed the circling dancers in silence for a moment or two.
“Your niece seems to be a very pretty-behaved girl,” said Mrs Drummond Burrell.
Lady Dunford hoped fervently that Anastasia’s recent escapade never came to the ears of the august lady Patroness of Almack’s, and then was distracted by an unwelcome sight.
“Oh there is Sir Montagu Morley! I did not know that he had the entrée here!”
“Dreadful man!” said Mrs Drummond Burrell. “But Lady Jersey would have it! And I know nothing definite of course to his detriment — but I cannot like him.”
“Nor I!” confessed Lady Dunford. The two old friends, very much grandes dames, and united in their low opinion of the unfortunate Baronet, fixed quelling stares on him as he approached them.
“Ladies!” he said reverently, making his bow, all glossy hair, gleaming teeth, and reeking powerfully of Circassian hair oil.
His greetings and fulsome compliments were alike received with cold indifference, but he seemed not to notice. He had long had such success with certain of the female sex that he had fallen into the way of thinking himself irresistible, and now proceeded unabashed to his object, which was to solicit Anastasia’s hand for the next dance.
Mrs Drummond Burrell moved haughtily away, and before Lady Dunford could answer him she perceived her niece making her way towards her, arms linked in a most surprisingly friendly way with Louisa, and both chatting with animation.
“Ah, how charming a picture!” exclaimed Sir Montagu. “It wants only the addition of Miss Dunford to the prospect to make oneself in the presence of the Three Graces!”
The girls were close enough to hear this compliment. “Indeed?” said Anastasia, coldly, quelling sternly a strong inclination to giggle.
But he was undaunted. “I have come to ask for your hand in the coming dance, Miss Derwent. May I hope that you will do me the honour...?”
“Quite out of her power, Morley, I’m afraid,” said a deep voice from just behind him.
Lord Silverfield stepped forward and tucked Anastasia’s unresisting hand into his arm. “Miss Derwent is already engaged to me for his dance!”
He smiled sardonically at the discomfited Sir Montagu, who showed an inclination to bluster, and led off his prize.
Sir Montagu, rage in his heart, was left to lead out Louisa with what grace he could muster. She, in whom chagrin at Lord Silverfield’s not singling her out in place of Anastasia was mingled with a feeling of radiant happiness whenever she caught sight of Captain Bladen, was strangely silent.
“Sir!” exclaimed Anastasia as soon as they were beyond earshot, “We were not engaged for this dance!”
“Were we not?” he enquired vaguely. “My memory is shocking! Would you rather have danced with Sir Montagu?”
She was silent. He danced well, and more than one eye in the room was drawn towards them by the unusual sight of his being seen within the hallowed precincts of Almack’s, and dancing at that.
She became aware of the watching, speculative faces and looked up, puzzled, into the handsome and rakish countenance of her partner.
“People are staring at us!” she said uneasily. “Am I....? That is, I have not had much practice in this dance. Am I doing it wrongly?”
He smiled. “You are dancing perfectly. And you must become used to being stared at, you know, if you are excessively pretty, which you once informed me you were!”
She blushed hotly and snapped: “They are not staring in admiration, they look surprised!”
“I daresay they are. It’s not often that I honour Almack’s with a visit, and even less often that I dance when I do come.”
“I suppose I too should feel honoured!” she whispered fiercely, as the movements of the dance brought them close to other couples.
He smiled wickedly at her and his dark eyes gleamed with laughter. “Well no, perhaps not! But it will be all over Town tomorrow that I danced with a Miss Derwent tonight, and the wrong one. I consider that very magnanimous of me!”
“Magnanimous!” she choked, “How can it be magnanimous to make me the talk of the town and to snub poor Louisa, whom everyone knows you must marry!”
“Why, it will divert attention from her, for which she should be grateful, and you will attract attention wherever you go as being my latest flirt; and most important of all I wanted to dance with you!”
“And do you always get what you want?”
“Oh, invariably! An angry flush becomes you, by the way. And you have not thought – young Carstares is bound to hear of it, and a little jealousy will keep him at a red-hot pitch of eagerness!”
He said this last rather harshly, and her eyes flew to his face. “Robin? I daresay it will make him jealous, but it is no business of his – or of yours! And do not call him ‘young Carstares’ in that odiously condescending way when there is so little difference in age between you!”
“Ah, but there is difference enough to have taught me to mistrust all women and their motives strongly — he is yet to reach the age of wisdom and disillusionment!”
She looked at him angrily. “Lord Silverfield, I don’t know why you have it fixed in your head that I wish to marry Mr Carstares, but indeed it is not so!”
“Oh come, Miss Derwent!” he said unpleasantly. “Do not think to pull the wool over my eyes! No, the only thing puzzling me is why you do not accept him now! There might be a little unpleasantness with your relatives and his redoubtable Mama, but I think you would prevail in the end.”
She looked at him in speechless indignation.
“But perhaps, having got yourself to London, you mean to keep him on a string while you seek to ensnare wealthier prey? I daresay that is it! What a pity it is that I can see through you, my most enchanting Miss Derwent, or you might even have had a chance to ensnare me!”
“Sir!” she said in trembling tones, “If you asked me to dance merely to have the pleasure of insulting me, I must beg you to return me to my Aunt at once! I do not know why you should think me so base and scheming, and I do not intend to waste any more of my time in persuading you otherwise!”
“Oh excellent – what righteous indignation!” he mocked. “And since our dance is ending I will certainly return you to Lady Dunford, and, I foresee, the clutches of Sir Montagu.”
She made no answer, too angry, hurt and confused to give words to her thoughts, but when she rejoined her Aunt her manner was so strange that Lady Dunford was concerned.
She pleaded a headache, brought on by the excitements of the evening.
“A headache?” said Lady Dunford. “A quarrel, more like, for I can see that Silverfield put you out of temper! But what you can have found to disagree about upon such a short acquaintance I cannot guess. I always find him a most engaging young man!”
“Oh... it is nothing, Aun
t Letty… Look, here are Sir Montagu and Louisa. Must I dance with him if he asks me?”
“Yes, it would look too particular to cut him, and make Sir James angry too, when he got to hear of it, which he very soon would! But I think we will very shortly go home, for I begin to feel tired.”
But indeed tiredness was not the foremost of her concerns, for the events of the evening had given her much food for thought, and to one of her match-making disposition, several intriguing possibilities.
So Anastasia dutifully performed her part in the dance with Sir Montagu, confining her conversation to the ‘yes’ or ‘no’ of any bashful young damsel making her debut, but in reality not listening to one word in ten of the attempts he was making to charm her.
He thought her shy, and promised himself an easy conquest once she had got over the initial alarm which had sent her flying from her home to the safety of her Aunt.
When he returned her to that lady she rightly judged that the evening’s entertainment had lasted for long enough and called for her carriage, extricating Georgiana from a knot of admirers, and carrying her charges off.
In the carriage going home Louisa and Georgiana united in voting it a most pleasurable evening. Georgiana never wanted for partners, and Louisa too had been much sought after.
With the attentions of Captain Bladen, who had shown a tendency to gravitate to her side whenever he could, she had seemed to grow ten times prettier in the course of one evening, and such is the way of things that, where there is one admirer, others find things to admire also.
Lady Dunford was still wrapped in deep thought; and as for Anastasia, strangely silent, her one wish was to gain the privacy of her bed-chamber and obtain the oblivion of sleep upon her chaotic thoughts.
Chapter Seventeen
Anastasia, after a night spent in going over all the cutting things that she might have said to Lord Silverfield if she had only thought of them at the time, finally admitted to herself that, until the disastrous dance with him at Almack’s, she had been in a fair way to imagining herself in love with him.
The Other Miss Derwent Page 11