Lady Lynwood took complete charge and soon her household staff had made ready a room for her guest. It said much for her generous spirit that Lady Lynwood had demanded no explanations for the sudden arrival of Adelina – dishevelled, weeping and homeless – upon her doorstep.
Adelina was taken upstairs to a sumptuous bedroom. All the furnishings were in the Chinese style, from the carpet and wallpaper to the small table and chairs which were bamboo. Even the bed coverlet was richly patterned with oriental motifs. The whole effect was unusual and delicate. Hardly noticing her surroundings, Adelina fell into bed and closed her eyes, completely exhausted and wishing she might never wake up!
For three days Adelina kept to her room, listlessly picking at the dainty trays of food set before her, or idly lying in bed just staring at the ceiling. She neither washed her face nor brushed her hair, nor even looked into the mirror.
On the fourth day, Lady Lynwood entered the bedroom, her stick tapping determinedly on the floor. She stood at the end of the bed and regarded Adelina for several moments.
“Well, you do look a poor creature,” she said briskly, not allowing even a hint of the sympathy she felt for the girl to show in her tone. “ I don’t know what happened in Abbeyford – and I don’t want to,” she added swiftly. “ But, whatever it was, it doesn’t warrant you moping your young life away. Now, come along, my girl. Out of that bed!”
Adelina made no move.
Smartly Lady Lynwood rapped her stick upon the end of the bed. The sudden and unexpected noise made Adelina jump and she sat up, her green eyes flashing, her auburn hair tumbling in a tousled mass about her shoulders.
“Ah – that’s better,” the old lady laughed her cackling laugh. “Some response at last!”
“Go away!” Adelina muttered. “Just leave me alone.”
“Don’t give me orders in my own house, my girl,” Lady Lynwood snapped, and inwardly congratulated herself to see a spark of anger flash again in Adelina’s green eyes.
“Come along, get up. I’m taking you shopping.” Lady Lynwood eyed the torn, stained riding-habit, the only garment Adelina now possessed. “ You have need of some new gowns, I believe,” she added wryly, and turned to leave, her cackling laughter ringing in Adelina’s ears.
Within three weeks Lord Lynwood had established the unresisting Adelina in an apartment of her own – only a short distance from his own London home – and had provided her with a staff to run it, including her own personal maid. With Lady Lynwood’s help, Adelina now possessed a wardrobe of fashionable gowns and accessories.
Slowly, life began to flood back into Adelina’s frozen veins and the nightmare of Abbeyford receded a little – but never, ever, could it be obliterated.
A few weeks passed before Adelina began to regain her vitality and her beauty, for so deep were the emotional scars inflicted upon her. During this time Lynwood was kind and solicitous, taking her to small, select supper-parties where she did not have to meet too many people at once. But as winter gave way to spring and spring to early summer and the London Season began, Adelina was fully recovered.
Her new life in London began to intrigue and excite her.
“Well, Adelina my love,” Lynwood smiled. “ I think it is time I introduced you to the high life of Society. I shall take you to visit the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.”
Her excitement mounted as she dressed. From among her new gowns Adelina chose one of emerald green silk, its neckline daringly low. Diamonds clustered about her snowy throat and shone in her hair, dimmed only by the sparkle in her shining eyes. Jane, her maid, dressed Adelina’s hair high upon her head with a profusion of curls framing her face.
It was masquerade night and the gardens were illuminated with hundreds of lamps. Adelina, on Lord Lynwood’s arm, strolled down the long avenues lined with trees. To her eyes, all of Society seemed to be here this night. Laughter rang through the still, early summer evening air. Adelina took a deep breath, savouring the scent of the trees, marvelling at the sweet air.
“It scarcely seems credible,” she remarked to the Earl, “ that we are in the heart of the city of London.”
Lord Lynwood’s eyes were upon her, admiring her beauty, trying desperately to blot out the memory of that other face so like Adelina’s. She did not seem to notice, for she was still eagerly drinking in the scene around her, her lips slightly apart, her lovely face vibrantly alive. Almost against his will Lord Lynwood felt his pulses quicken and he put his hand over hers where it rested, lightly, on his arm.
At his touch she looked up at him. “ Oh, my lord, this is so wonderful. I’ve never – ever – seen anything like this?” she murmured, entranced. Her hand tightened on his arm in a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you for bringing me, for making it all possible. I …” She stopped in mid-sentence and put her head slightly on one side, listening intently. “ Is that music I hear?”
“Most probably.”
“Oh, do let’s find it.”
Smiling indulgently at her sudden childlike enthusiasm, Lord Lynwood led the way to the orchestra pavilion. He found that Adelina’s lack of sophistication, such a contrast to her mother, helped to erase some of the memories.
They found quite a crowd mingling around the pavilion, listening to the musicians or merely engaging in conversation in select little groups.
“I say, Lynwood!” a voice greeted him out of the shadows. Adelina turned to see an elegantly dressed young man approaching.
“Eversleigh!” Lord Lynwood greeted him with genuine delight. He turned to Adelina. “This is my good friend, Lord Peter Eversleigh.” Lynwood laid his hand upon the shoulder of the young man as he made the introductions. Lord Eversleigh bowed over Adelina’s hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am.”
He was very tall, lanky rather, for he was a little too thin for his height so that he appeared to stoop slightly. He was dressed fashionably. His hair was black and curled crisply. His skin was dark and his eyes a deep azure blue. His tailed coat and trousers were of the finest material and the silk waistcoat was cut low to show a frilled shirt. He was aristocratic and elegant.
“Look, will you join me for supper?” He turned towards Lynwood.
“Well …” Lynwood hesitated.
“Oh, come on, Lynwood. Don’t keep this lovely lady all to yourself.”
For an instant a shadow crossed Lynwood’s face, but resolutely he smiled and allowed his friend to lead them to one of the small supper-boxes arranged amongst the trees. Gallantly, Lord Eversleigh helped Adelina to seat herself comfortably.
“Now don’t run away, Miss Cole, I beg you,” and so saying he hurried away again and was soon lost amongst the throng.
“Where has he gone?”
Lynwood sat down beside her. “To find refreshment for us, I suspect.”
They sat in companionable silence, watching the young dandies strolling by with languid elegance and the young ladies flirting outrageously.
Lord Eversleigh returned with a manservant carrying a tray of glasses of punch and dishes of sillabub laced with wine.
“Oh, this is heavenly,” Adelina enthused as she tasted the sweet concoction.
“Indeed it is, ma’am,” Lord Eversleigh concurred, his eyes upon her face with open admiration, as if he would agree with anything and everything she said.
“Careful, my friend,” Lynwood murmured. “ You’re in danger of poaching upon my preserves.”
Lord Eversleigh laughed good-naturedly.
“Oh, there you are, my lord!”
Adelina looked up sharply to see who had spoken. Standing close by their table was a young woman, pretty but in an overdressed, vulgar way. Her gown was revealingly low and so tight that her ample bosoms were pushed unnaturally high. Her face was heavily powdered and rouged, and her throat, arms and hair seemed covered with cheap jewellery.
“Ah, yes – Harriet. Here I am.” Lord Eversleigh rose to his feet – reluctantly, Adelina thought – and invited the girl to sit down.<
br />
“I ran into my old friend Lynwood here.”
“And decided to desert me in favour of them?” the girl snapped, her eyes smouldering. Adelina sipped her glass of punch and regarded the girl with amusement.
Colour crept slowly up Eversleigh’s neck and he shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “ No – no. Of course not. I was but spending a few moments with my friends and then I was coming back to you. I thought you were happily enjoying the music.”
“I was,” the girl countered swiftly, “until I found you were no longer at my side.”
There was an awkward silence in which Harriet transferred her resentful gaze from Lord Eversleigh to Adelina. The two girls eyed each other speculatively.
“Well,” Harriet said petulantly, “aren’t you going to make the introductions?”
A small sigh escaped Lord Eversleigh’s lips, and he said swiftly and without courtesy.
“Miss Cole – this is Harriet. Miss Adelina Cole, from America.”
“America? Heavens!” The girl had the grace to look impressed. “I thought I hadn’t seen you before and I know everyone there is to know,” she added smugly.
“I guess you do,” Adelina drawled, her left eyebrow raised fractionally, her eyes never leaving Harriet’s face. She recognised her at once for what she was. There had been plenty of girls like Harriet in the waterfront taverns, but despite their desperate straits, Adelina had refused to become one of them.
Obviously, Harriet was Lord Eversleigh’s mistress.
Adelina was motionless, the colour suddenly creeping up her neck and over her face. She swallowed and laced her fingers together tightly in an effort to still their shaking.
That is what everyone here would think of her! That she, Adelina Cole, was Lord Lynwood’s mistress. The realisation hit her with such force, left her feeling as if she stood – helpless – at the edge of a precipice, unable to take the step back to safety.
Unaware of her anguish, Lynwood watched the crowd passing back and forth before them, lost in his own brooding thoughts.
The following evening they were to attend a grand ball and Adelina dressed with supreme care. She chose an evening gown of pale blue crape over a slip of white satin. The neckline was cut square and very low. The hemline was heavily decorated with crape bows and frills.
Lord Lynwood called for her at her apartment.
“You are enchanting, ma’am,” he said and bowed deeply as she curtsied playfully to him.
Lynwood himself handed her into his carriage and they bowled through the fashionable streets of London.
They drew up outside a grand terraced house with pillars on either side of a huge oak front door. More carriages lined the road and the night air was filled with the sound of laughter and excited chatter.
“Well,” Lord Lynwood smiled down at her as he escorted her up the steps and into the house. “Are you ready to rock London Society?”
Adelina laughed. “I hope so.”
As they entered, their names were announced and Adelina was aware of the heads turning, of the sudden stillness in the room, swiftly broken by the babble of speculation which swept through the vast room. The young men soon gravitated towards her and before long she was dancing every dance and never twice with the same partner – except for Lynwood, who demanded four. He watched as she danced with other men, his eyes following her swaying body, her parted lips, her shining eyes. She was easily the most beautiful girl in the room and a new face amongst the familiar ones of this particular set was bound to create excitement amongst the gentlemen and jealousy amongst the ladies.
Breathless and laughing, Adelina returned to Lord Lynwood. For the first time Abbeyford and all its unhappy memories seemed a hundred years away.
“Oh, Francis, this is wonderful. Oh look, there’s Lord Eversleigh!” The use of Lynwood’s Christian name sprang naturally to her lips. Now she felt his equal as his friends and contemporaries laughed and flirted with her.
But Adelina’s growing confidence was like a knife in Lynwood’s heart – now she was even more like her mother!
Gaily she waved her ivory fan at Lord Eversleigh across the room. Immediately he threaded his way through the people to reach her.
“Miss Cole – Lynwood. ’ Tis good to see you here.” His words were intended to include them both, but his eyes rested solely upon Adelina. But her restless gaze was wandering about the room, drinking in the elegance, the atmosphere of frivolity and enjoyment. She had never known anything like it in her life. She had not known such a world even existed.
Suddenly she saw the smile fade from Lord Eversleigh’s face. “I say, Lynwood,” he said in a low, urgent tone and nodded his head towards the door.
Lynwood turned and Adelina’s eyes followed the direction of his gaze. Standing at the top of the stairs, framed in the doorway, stood a beautiful woman. Adelina eyed her critically … Whoever she was, she was certainly lovely. Her skin was creamy white and her black hair shone and glinted in the light. Her low-cut gown was of transparent pink net over a deeper shade of pink.
“Who is she?” Adelina asked. She saw Lord Lynwood and his friend exchange a glance.
“That,” remarked the Earl of Lynwood drily, “ is Helene Lyon.”
“Do you know her?” Adelina asked innocently.
Lynwood coughed and Lord Eversleigh seemed to stifle his laughter.
“Slightly,” Lynwood replied, but there was sarcasm in his tone.
Helene Lyon floated elegantly down the steps, graciously acknowledging greetings on every side. She smiled and fluttered her fan, but all the while she was making her way directly across the room towards Lord Lynwood.
“Francis! How wonderful you’re back in London,” she cried, stretching out her hands towards him. “I couldn’t imagine you, of all people, vegetating in the dreary countryside.” Helene’s voice was low and seductively husky. Her eyes flirted openly with him.
“Helene.” Lynwood kissed her hand and then turned towards Adelina.
“I must introduce you to Miss Adelina Cole from America.” Now that she was close, Adelina could see that Helene Lyon’s face was perfectly proportioned, with pale blue eyes, finely arched brows and full, well-shaped lips.
“How do you do?” The expression in Helene’s eyes belied her friendly greeting. Her scathing glance raked Adelina from head to toe and her lip curled disdainfully. “Are you staying in London long, Miss Cole?”
Adelina glanced at Lynwood. “I’m not sure. I hope so, but the decision rests with Lord Lynwood.”
Adelina heard Helene’s swift intake of breath and saw the anger spark within her eyes. Helene turned to face Lynwood and her eyes narrowed.
“So – that’s the way it is!” She gave a snort of contempt and turned away abruptly, her skirts swirling angrily.
“Methinks you have offended the lady,” Eversleigh murmured.
“It would appear so,” Lynwood remarked in an offhand manner. He held out his arm to Adelina, “ Come, Adelina, ’tis time you danced with me again.”
Watching her dance with other men had caused Lynwood to feel acute jealousy. Seeing her admired had at last made him acknowledge his own deepening passion for her.
As they joined three other couples in a quadrille, Adelina was aware, all the time, of Miss Lyon’s hostile gaze following their every movement.
Adelina found herself dancing opposite a tall, thin, young dandy, whose admiration for her was plain to see.
As the dance came to an end he demanded to be introduced to her. Lynwood performed the introductions with bad grace. It was the first time Adelina had seen him openly discourteous towards someone. His lips were a thin, hard line and anger glittered in his blue eyes making them seem suddenly cold.
“Mr Thomas de Courtney – Miss Adelina Cole.”
“Madam – I am charmed. You are like a breath of spring amongst our dull company. May I pray beseech the pleasure of the next dance?”
“Of course …”
But Adelina’
s words were interrupted by Lynwood saying sharply, “It’s time we were leaving, Adelina.”
“Oh, no, Francis,” she spoke without thinking. “I’m having such a wonderful time. I don’t want to go yet.”
“Madam,” Lynwood said warningly, “ you will oblige me by leaving when I say.”
For a moment the fire of challenge was between them, their determined, wilful spirits clashing. Then colour flooded Adelina’s face as she remembered that she was only here by Lynwood’s kindness. She had allowed the flattery of all the young men here to turn her head for a moment. Submissively, she put her hand on his arm. “Of course. I’m sorry, my lord.”
His anger melted at once and Lynwood caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. The scene did not go unnoticed by those nearby. As Lynwood led Adelina from the room it was not only Helene Lyon’s eyes which followed them.
“My Lord Lynwood seems to be smitten somewhat,” remarked one of Thomas de Courtney’s friends.
“Egad, but she’s a fine filly. From the New World, ain’t she?” murmured de Courtney. “I’d like to try my hand at prising her away from Lynwood.”
“Why don’t you, then?”
“I might at that,” he remarked casually.
“Damned fool if you do, de Courtney. He’ll call you out for sure and he’s reputed to be the best swordsman this side of the Channel.”
De Courtney shrugged and his eyes followed Adelina until she left the room and disappeared from view.
“It might even be worth it if I’d had that little filly first!”
His fellow companions guffawed loudly.
In the carriage Lynwood and Adelina did not speak to each other, but each was acutely aware of the tension between them.
Lynwood, his desire, his love and all the bitter memories he’d tried so hard to crush had come crowding to the surface as he had watched Adelina dancing with other men.
He followed her into her apartment and slammed the door behind them. Adelina gasped and whirled to face him, her eyes wide, her lips apart. At the look on his face, she backed away and put her hand out as if to fend him off. “ No, my lord, please. I …”
Abbeyford Inheritance Page 8