Tonight when she was dressing for dinner she had received a message to say that it would be a larger party than usual and that she was to wear her new gown. It had been finished only that morning and the Marchioness had sent for her to her bedroom so that she could see the final result and give her approval.
Serena dreaded these mornings when she must go to the Marchioness’s bedroom. She thought that the Marchioness herself looked like some bewitched creature from a Fairytale and that Madame Roxana, crouching on a low stool by the bed, was nothing more than a witch.
Serena shrank from her even while Madame Roxana greeted her with toothy smiles and oily flattery.
Only the gowns fashioned by Yvette’s clever fingers were some compensation for those uncomfortable moments, and Serena knew that the latest creation, which she would wear this evening as instructed, transformed her.
There were silver stars on the gauze that covered the pale satin of the underskirt and there was a silver star in her hair. As she entered the drawing room, Serena saw several people glance at her and the Marchioness made a commanding gesture for her to come to her side.
There was a man standing beside her and Serena felt her heart sink. Here, she supposed, was yet another person who had been told about her money, yet another prospective suitor in the eyes of the Marchioness. With a coolness she was far from feeling Serena crossed the room, which appeared filled as never before with a glittering chattering throng.
The atmosphere was stifling.
The Marchioness believed that people gambled higher when it was warm, so the windows were kept permanently closed. The heat from the candles combined with the fragrance of the flowers banked in the corners of the room was almost overpowering. It was very hot now and Serena knew that it would be a great deal hotter after dinner when still more people would arrive.
Yet what was the use of complaining? This, for the moment, was her life and she must accept it with the best grace she could.
“Oh, here you are, child,” the Marchioness exclaimed, and there was the sharpness of a rebuke in her voice.
“I am sorry if I am late, ma’am,” Serena apologised. “My new gown delayed me.”
The Marchioness looked at her with an appraising eye.
“It is vastly becoming,” she said and turned to the man beside her, adding, “May I present Lord Wrotham?”
Serena gave a little gasp and then she recognised the dark good-looking but debauched face, the puffy eyes and the thick sensual lips.
“Miss Staverley and I have met before,” Lord Wrotham said, bowing.
“I have not forgotten it, my Lord.”
“Indeed. I am honoured that I have remained in your memory after so many years.”
“I have thought of you often,” Serena said, speaking slowly as if each word was difficult for her to pronounce.
“Indeed! I am indeed flattered.”
The Marchioness moved away to speak to someone else. Serena held herself very straight. She was conscious of a deep, burning anger rising within her and that her fingers were cold.
Lord Wrotham had still not guessed at her antagonism.
“How well I remember coming to Staverley,” he reminisced. “Your father, poor fellow, was a great friend of mine. You were only a child in those days, a pretty child, but, by gad, you have grown into a beauty. I did not recognise you for the moment. You must allow me as an old friend to compliment you, Serena.”
“A friend, my Lord?” Serena asked the question icily. “You are no friend of mine and never will be.”
Lord Wrotham’s eyebrows were raised.
“And what can you mean by that, my sweet Serena?”
“I had a friend, who was unfortunate enough to love you, my Lord. Later she bitterly regretted her stupidity, it nearly cost her her life. Have you forgotten Charmaine, Lord Wrotham?”
For a moment Lord Wrotham looked uncomfortable and then he began to bluster.
“Now really, Serena, you are too young to know about such things or rather to talk about what can easily be misconstrued. Charmaine was a pretty girl, I remember her, of course, but she behaved in a very reprehensible manner. She ran away from me, if I remember right. Heaven knows what trouble she got into after that.”
“You are a liar!” Serena said briefly. “You turned Charmaine away when you learned that she was having a child – your child, my Lord. I took her home to Staverley. We thought she must die, but she lived and, thank God, has now found real happiness. But she will never forget you, nor shall I.”
Swiftly Serena turned on her heel and walked away from him. She had no idea for the moment where she was going, moving blindly and seeing nothing in the fury of her anger. She heard someone speak her name, but she did not stop.
Then with a sense of relief that she was too incensed to realise, she saw Lord Vulcan’s huge shoulders looming above her. She stopped at his side. He turned towards her and only under the intentness of his gaze did she realise that she was quivering and that her lips were trembling, while her eyes were large with unshed tears.
For a moment she could not speak, but could only look at him helplessly.
“I was just remarking,” Lord Vulcan said in his usual, quiet unhurried manner, “that it is surprising how swiftly one can travel in these days. The roads are better and carriages are finer sprung. Why, you yourself remarked, I think, the other day that you were untired after a journey of over six hours. Fifty years ago it was a very different story. I am sure you will agree with me.”
Slowly Serena felt her agitation subside. She knew that Lord Vulcan was talking to give her time to recover herself. She knew that above all things she must control herself. She must not break down in front of these strange people.
Lord Vulcan drew out his snuffbox. It was of finely chased gold set with emeralds and diamonds. He examined it as if he was seeing it for the first time.
Serena’s breathing became easier, the tears receded from her eyes, and, although she was unaware of it, a faint colour came back into her cheeks.
At last she could speak in what was nearly her normal voice.
“That man – Lord Wrotham,” she said. “I cannot be near him. If he is next to me at dinner – ”
“He will not be,” Lord Vulcan said quietly. “I will see that it is arranged.”
“Thank you,” Serena whispered and then impulsively added, “Could I retire? May I?”
Lord Vulcan looked at her for one moment.
“And run away?” he asked.
Serena’s chin went up. With an immense effort she managed to smile at him.
“You are right, my Lord. He should be the one to run.”
There was a faint smile on the Marquis’s lips and then, as Serena met his eyes, she heard a voice she recognised.
“Justin! Are you pleased to see me?”
There was no pretence in the lilting gladness of Lady Isabel’s voice or in the eagerness of the hand she held out for Lord Vulcan to kiss.
“Oh, Justin, it is so good to be here. I have wanted to see you so much. I thought your mother would never answer my letter asking if I could come. I have brought a friend with me. I hope you do not mind.”
A man emerged somewhat embarrassedly from behind her and now it was Serena’s turn to exclaim.
“Nicholas!”
She ran to her cousin’s side. She thought that she had never been so glad to see anyone. His rather plain good-natured face was for her at that moment the most handsome visage in the room and she clung to his arm in an excess of affection that exceeded anything she had ever felt for him during the years that they had been together at Staverley.
“This is a surprise, Nicholas. Are you staying in the house?”
“Yes, we are staying here,” Nicholas answered. “I came down tonight with Lady Isabel and her brother, Lord Gillingham. It was Isabel’s idea,” he added, “that you might be pleased to see me. It was kind of her of think of you.”
“Very kind,” Serena answered, too happy at
the moment to realise that Lady Isabel’s thought for her had much more likely been curiosity or a desire to provide her with a companion, leaving Lord Vulcan free and unattached.
“You don’t mind Nicholas coming, do you, Justin?” Lady Isabel was saying.
“I am delighted to welcome Mr. Staverley to Mandrake,” Lord Vulcan said.
“Thank you, my Lord,” Nicholas answered somewhat formally.
“You have met Miss Staverley before,” Lord Vulcan went on, speaking to Lady Isabel.
“Yes, of course, but in rather unfortunate circumstances,” Lady Isabel said, “and I doubt that I should have recognised you again.”
Her bright eyes took in every detail of Serena’s new dress, the stars in her hair and the scarf draped in the very latest fashion. But Serena felt that whatever she wore she could never equal the elegance of Lady Isabel.
Tonight a red dress made a startling frame for her dark beauty. There were diamonds round her neck and rubies and diamonds entwined in her hair. She had a flashing gay loveliness that Serena envied and she wondered how Lord Vulcan could have resisted for so long the enticement of her crimson lips.
“Say you are really glad to see me, Justin,” Lady Isabel pleaded and seemed not to care that both Nicholas and Serena could overhear her.
Serena saw the pain in Nicholas’ eyes and, acting on an impulse, drew him aside, taking him a little apart into an alcove by the window.
“I was a fool to come,” Nicholas muttered, intent on his own unhappiness.
“Oh, don’t say that, Nicholas,” Serena replied. “I am so glad to see you.”
“And, of course, I am glad to see you,” Nicholas said courteously, “but I have been pretending to myself that Isabel might be a little anxious for my company. I might have known that it was only Vulcan she cared about.”
“Poor Nicholas,” Serena said softly. “I wish I could help you.”
“When are you going to marry him?” Nicholas enquired.
“I don’t know that I am,” Serena answered. “He has brought me here, but as far as I can make out he has no plans for my future, while his mother wishes to marry me to the first man who will offer for me.”
“Do you mean that he is behaving like a cad to you?” Nicholas asked fiercely. “If that is the case – ”
Serena put a restraining hand on his arm.
“No, no, Nicholas, he has behaved in the most gentlemanly manner, I assure you. The fact is, dear cousin, that he does not care a snap of the finger for me and I think I am only an embarrassment to him. Do not insult him on my behalf, I beg of you.”
“I had hoped that he would marry you,” Nicholas said miserably, “and then perhaps Isabel – ”
“I do ‘t think that Lord Vulcan wants to marry anybody,” Serena said soothingly.
“If only one could get rid of the fellow,” Nicholas growled. “If I thought he was treating you ill, I – ”
“What could you do?” Serena asked. “If you called him out, it would do no good. Besides, he is not treating me ill! No, Nicholas, you must just hope that Lady Isabel will turn to you in time.”
“If I thought there was the slightest chance of that,” Nicholas said, “I would wait a century.”
He looked so unhappy that Serena could only pat his arm reassuringly. She looked back at Lord Vulcan and Lady Isabel. They were still standing together.
But Lord Vulcan was looking in their direction, apparently paying little attention to the blandishments of his companion.
“Listen, Nicholas,” Serena said, “if you are going to win, Lady Isabel you will not do it by being miserable and jealous. She wants someone to conquer her, someone to sweep her off her feet. Can you not try to capture her attention? Mooning about the place is not going to help.”
Serena spoke forcefully, as she had spoken to Nicholas ever since they had been children together. She had always made the decisions and had driven him into doing what she wanted. She remembered that he had often been difficult even as a little boy, moody at times over a fancied injustice at not being able to get his own way.
She looked at Lady Isabel. There was something sensuous and enticing in her scarlet-clad body and her attitude as she threw back her dark head to look up at the Marquis revealed the tender roundness of her neck and the passionate curve of her tiny breasts.
“You have to win her, Nicholas,” Serena insisted. “I am a woman and I know what women want. They want a man to be a hero and someone who crawls about begging for crumbs of comfort is not going to capture their hearts. A woman wants a lover not a lovelorn beggar.”
Nicholas looked at her in surprise.
“Where did you learn all this, Serena?” he asked. “You have not wasted much time if that is the sort of knowledge you have gained at Mandrake.”
Serena smiled.
“I did not have to come to Mandrake to learn about human beings, stupid. Love is much the same wherever you go.” She looked her cousin up and down. “You are looking exceeding smart, Nicholas, in your new coat and your cravat is wondrously tied.”
“When I look at Vulcan’s, I know it is not up to snuff,” Nicholas said gloomily, but Serena knew that he was pleased at her praise.
Then he looked across the room and gave a low groan.
“Look at Isabel now,” he exclaimed. “What chance have I?”
It was difficult not to be sorry for him. Isabel’s hand was on Justin’s arm and she was staring up at him almost wildly, obviously pleading for something.
“Oh, lud, do not stand there wearing the willow,” Serena said sharply. “Go and stop her making an idiot of herself if you care for her at all. Be bold, carry her off, make her see that you are to be considered and that Lord Vulcan is not the only man in the room.”
She spoke sharply and Nicholas squared his shoulders.
“Dammit, but I will do it,” he said.
He strode across to Lady Isabel’s side.
“There is something I want to show you, Isabel,” he said. “Come with me.”
He spoke in such a commanding, authoritative voice that Lady Isabel, bemused by some altercation with Justin, allowed herself to be led away before she realised what was happening. Serena smiled a little to herself as she watched them moving through the crowd.
Then she was suddenly aware that Lord Vulcan stood beside her.
“Are you glad to see your cousin?” he asked.
“Very glad,” Serena answered in all sincerity.
“That is what I thought,” Lord Vulcan said.
There was something so strange in his tone that Serena glanced up at him. She was about to say something when in stentorian tones the butler announced that dinner was served.
The Marquis was taking down the Duchess of Dover, who was waiting impatiently for him on the other side of the room, but he made no effort to hurry to her side.
“The table has been rearranged,” he said to Serena. “Your cousin will be sitting next to you.”
“Oh, thank you,” Serena said and was somehow surprised by the expression on his face.
Dinner was the usual long-drawn-out meal, course following course, with exquisite wines and the usual difficulty of conversation divided equally between two neighbours.
Nicholas talked unceasingly of himself when he was not striving to catch a glimpse of Lady Isabel farther down the table, while the man on Serena’s left talked only of hunting, of which she knew very little.
She was glad when the meal drew to an end and the ladies withdrew to the drawing room. As Serena moved through the chattering scented crowd, Isabel came to her side.
“Let us retire to your bedchamber, I want to talk to you.”
Serena led the way up the Grand Staircase and then as they climbed another flight of stairs she thought that Isabel looked around her a little strangely.
“Why are you in this part of the house?” she asked when finally they reached Serena’s room, the firelight casting weird shadows on the massive furniture.
S
erena smiled.
“I am not important enough for the guest rooms on the first floor.”
Isabel closed the door behind her and waited while Serena lit the candles.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” she asked at length.
Serena turned round.
“I know what it is and you may ask it, but I cannot answer you.”
“What do you mean?” Isabel said sharply.
Serena came back to the fireside, holding out her hands to the blaze.
“Why should we not talk honestly between ourselves?” she asked. “You wish to wed Lord Vulcan, I do not wish to wed him. What you were going to enquire of me was if he intends to marry me. That is a question that he alone can answer. I do not think he does, but I would not know. I have never met people such as this before and they both bewilder and surprise me.”
Serena spoke softly and as she talked she felt Isabel relax. There had been an air of almost aggressive hostility about her as they had gone up the stairs, but now she stared at her in wide-eyed and open-mouthed astonishment, before she gave a shout of laughter.
“Lud, but I like you for that,” Lady Isabel exclaimed. “I want to hate you, but I cannot. You are nice and we must be friends, you and I. Why not?”
“Why not indeed?” Serena asked.
“It is a mistake,” Lady Isabel said, “for I have vowed often enough never to have a friend as pretty as myself. And you are lovely, really lovely, and I cannot think why Justin has not taken you to the altar days ago.”
“Do you love him so very much?”
“I am crazy about him,” Isabel admitted. “I have been for over a year now and he will have none of me. But I swear he shall come to love me. He is so handsome, apart from the fact that I would like to be the Marchioness of Vulcan.”
“Does position matter when you love someone?” Serena asked.
“Oh, lud, but you are simple,” Isabel exclaimed. “Of course it does. Think what Justin could offer any woman. But apart from his riches, his title and this house, I love him. He attracts me. I adore that deliciously insolent manner of his, the way he remains indifferent to everything that happens and to anything anyone says. I will win him one of these days, you see if I don’t.”
A Hazard of Hearts Page 11