Serena shuddered.
“Don’t speak of it.”
The Joker laughed.
“You are too squeamish, lady. It’s a hard life, but methinks you also choose the hard way. You have a lonely journey in front of you.”
“Will you put me on the right road?” Serena asked him.
“That I will,” he replied. “But a quarter of a mile from here we strike the Dover road. Do not leave it again. ’Tis easy to lose your way and there are often unpleasant people about, highwaymen and the like.”
He laughed at his own joke.
They hurried on, drawing rein only when the winding country lane opened onto a crossroad and a milestone told the distance both to London and to Dover.
Serena reined in Thunderbolt and held out her hand.
“Methinks I am once again most deeply in your debt, Sir Joker.”
“Nay, this time ’tis for me to thank you,” he replied.
Their hands touched, but, when he would have kissed her fingers, Thunderbolt plunged around, startled by a few leaves blowing aimlessly across the road.
“God speed,” the highwayman cried and Serena waved her whip in response as she cantered up the road.
She kept Thunderbolt on the grass beside the highway. He soon settled down into a long comfortable stride, seeming to enjoy the unexpected demands upon him and giving little trouble to Serena save when a stagecoach thundered by or a swift curricle made him plunge furiously as if he wished to turn and race the horse travelling in the opposite direction. Nothing passed them going Southwards, for they were travelling too fast to be overtaken.
After an hour or so Serena reined in the great horse and made him walk, proffering him water at a nearby stream on one occasion and at a village pond on another.
But, as if he sensed her own eagerness to arrive at her destination, he was interested in nothing but continuing their journey, seemingly fresh and untired, although Serena herself was beginning to feel stiff and her arms were aching.
Thunderbolt had been by no means as difficult to ride as she had feared after his first heady rush when he had dragged her arms nearly out of their sockets, but he still taxed her strength by shying or prancing around at the least provocation.
She was beginning to feel almost overwhelmingly weary as the daylight faded and the sky became overcast. The warmth of the day had given way to a chill wind blowing from the East and presently Serena felt a spot of rain against her cheek.
It was followed by another and yet another and soon they were battling their way against a storm.
There was no question of finding shelter, nor did Serena wish to waste the time. There was only one thing to do and that was to plod on.
Thunderbolt did not care for the rain and slowed his pace. They kept on the road now, the miles passing slowly as the rain drenched down until Serena could feel it soaking through her velvet coat and trickling in small rivulets down her back.
And yet her physical discomfort did not equal the despondency of her mind. All day she had striven to keep her mind on the necessity of her journey and had not let her anxiety over Justin take possession of her.
Now in the rain and the gathering darkness and with Thunderbolt easier to manage, a spectre of what might have occurred loomed up to frighten her. Now she knew in all truth what she had admitted to herself earlier on, that she loved Justin.
It had taken the Joker’s light words to dispel the pretence that she had blinded herself with.
She admitted fully and unreservedly that she loved Justin with all the fibre of her being. She had known it, she thought, that day when he showed her the models and had asked,
“Shall I make you love me, Serena?”
She had fled from him then.
Now she wished above all things that she had stayed. Had he been mocking her? Had he been merely jesting or had there been a deeper and more tender reason for his question?
How she wished she knew the answer! How she longed to know if she mattered to him in any degree, even the smallest.
She had shrunk from his anger last night and then he had carried her to her bed. What had he thought as she lay sobbing in his arms? She wished now that she had glanced upwards at his face and that she had read the expression in his eyes. If she had looked at him then, would she have known? Would something have told her the truth?
Humbly she told herself that it was too much to expect that he should love her, it was enough that she should interest him and that he should find her attractive. She thought of Isabel, vivacious and inviting, her crimson lips held up to Justin. If he was able to resist Isabel’s blandishments, was it likely that he would care for her? What had she to offer?
Little save an untouched heart and a love that seemed to her greater and more consuming than any love there had been since the beginning of time.
She loved him, she loved his face, his handsome clear-cut features, his eyes steely as the sea must be in winter, his mouth firm and usually curved downwards cynically as if at some inner disappointment, yet sometimes wide with laughter both boyish and spontaneous.
She loved his shoulders, the great strength of his arms, his long thin aristocratic fingers.
Yes, she loved him.
How foolish she had been not to know it before, how crazy to have avoided him during those days and weeks at Mandrake rather than to have sought him out! Fool that she was. Was anything so bitter as a vision of what might have been?
It was dark now and still Thunderbolt plodded onwards. Now the countryside seemed more populated. There was a house here and there, an uncurtained window warm with orange light, the sound of laughter and of joyful voices inside an inn.
Still they went on. She felt that even Thunderbolt was tiring, annoyed with the beating rain and hoping perhaps that soon he would find the warmth and comfort of a stable and the consolation of a good meal.
Serena shivered.
She was soaked to the skin and her fingers had become numb with cold.
Had Thunderbolt set off now in the opposite direction, she would have been unable to prevent him.
*
London at last! The first streets, the first sound of a nightwatchman wandering over the cobbles with his lantern.
“Eight o’clock, gentlemen, and all’s well.”
So late! Serena had hoped that she would have been at Grosvenor Square before now.
She stopped to ask her way of a watchman. He directed her and on they went again.
There were houses now on either side of the street with gutters running fast with the recent rainfall.
They were coming into the more fashionable part of London. A coach rumbled by, a postilion in crimson astride one of a team of perfectly matched jet-black horses. A sedan chair with the crest as large as a saucer was preceded by a linkman in a livery of peacock green embroidered in silver.
Wearily Serena turned Thunderbolt into Park Lane. It was not much further now. There were lights and the sound of music coming from one of the great houses overlooking the park, powdered footmen were assisting the guests to alight on to a red carpet, and there was a row of carriages one behind the other.
On Serena went, thinking only of what she would find.
Justin had fallen!
The words repeated themselves over and over again in her mind and linked with them were the cries of the Marchioness, her screams echoing and re-echoing from the vastness of her curtained bed.
Grosvenor Square at last!
And Vulcan House with its white pillars and high railings. She pulled Thunderbolt up outside the door. A linkman ran forward. Slowly and half-afraid that she would be unable to stand when she reached the ground, Serena dismounted.
“Take the horse round to the stables,” she said and her voice was hoarse. “It is the property of his Lordship and must be attended to instantly.”
The linkman stared at her and Serena knew that he was wondering who she was and was surprised at her appearance, damp and bedraggled, at this time of night.
She walked swiftly up the wide marble steps.
The door was flung open and light streamed out enveloping her. For a moment she was too dazzled to distinguish anything and then she saw that a butler was standing looking at her.
With a tremendous effort she spoke to him.
“I have come from Mandrake. His Lordship? Is he here?”
She could hardly bear to say anything more and she could not put into words the question the mattered to her more than all else.
“Your name, ma’am?”
“Miss Staverley.”
“Will you come this way?”
The butler preceded her. She followed him because it seemed to her that for the moment she had neither the will to question him nor to do anything but what was expected of her.
She crossed the hall with its black and white marble squares like a giant chessboard. The butler flung open a huge mahogany door and Serena entered the room.
It was a big room, brilliant with light and colourful, with embroidered curtains and furniture. She had an impression of gaiety, she heard voices and laughter, which suddenly ceased as she entered.
For a moment it was difficult to focus her eyes and then she heard the butler’s voice boom,
“Miss Staverley, my Lord, from Mandrake.”
And then she saw him, she saw Justin whom she had come so far to seek, saw the man whom she thought was dead or at least mortally wounded.
He was sitting in a chair by the fireplace and his arm was in a sling, but he was laughing and in his other hand he held a glass of wine.
There were several other men in the room.
One was standing with his back to the fire and another was opposite Justin, his legs outstretched and an arm flung over the back of the chair nonchalantly.
But next to Justin, sitting on a low stool beside him, one white hand resting on his knee, was a woman – a woman such as Serena had never seen before in the whole of her life.
Instinctively and insistently she took in every detail.
She saw a lovely face, unusual in its beauty and unusual in its construction. She saw dark eyes under narrow winged eyebrows, dark hair powdered with specks of real gold, a gown also of gold cut so daringly low as to give the impression that the wearer was partially naked.
She saw too a mouth curved in laughter and she guessed without being told that it was some sally from these crimson lips that had caused Justin such merriment.
She took it all in.
And she knew in that moment it was a picture that she would never forget.
Then even as she saw Justin start to his feet, even as she heard his voice enunciate her name in astonishment and surprise, she felt the floor come up to meet her and a sudden darkness descend on her.
As she fell, she knew with an agonising sense of despair that her ride – like her love for him – had been in vain.
Chapter Fifteen
Serena awoke to find herself in a big green and gold bedroom that she had never seen before.
For a moment she wondered wildly where she was and then the door opened and Eudora came in.
“Eudora! Oh, Eudora!” Serena sighed, sitting up in bed and holding out her arms, and a moment later she felt the familiar roughness of Eudora’s weathered cheek against her own. “Where am I? What has happened? How did you get here?”
The questions tumbled out of Serena’s mouth one after another.
“It is all right, my dearie,” Eudora answered and Serena saw that there was a suspicion of tears in her eyes. “I arrived late last night, passing late it was, and you were asleep.”
“Asleep?” Serena exclaimed. “But – ? Oh, I remember now. I remember seeing – ” she broke off suddenly. “Everything went dark – I can remember nothing after that.”
“You fainted from exhaustion. The housekeeper told me all about it. They carried you up to bed and the doctor who was called in by his Lordship prescribed a soothing draught for you. You drank it and you have not moved until this very moment.”
“Yes, I remember now. I remember drinking something. It was still dark and there were voices.”
“You were dead tired,” Eudora said. “Oh, my little love, why did you do such a foolish thing, for foolish it really was.”
“Foolish indeed,” Serena said slowly and her voice was suddenly bitter.
Then quickly, as if she would escape from her own thoughts, she added, “But you have not told me how you came here. Oh, Eudora, I have never been so glad to see anyone.”
“I must fetch you your chocolate,” Eudora suggested, as if she suddenly remembered her duties, but Serena caught at her hand.
“Not until you have told me – all.”
Eudora smiled.
“After you had gone from Mandrake, I started thinkin’ and I recollected, poor cork-brain that I am, that I should never have allowed you to go chasin’ off on such a wild scheme, but ’twas too late. I ran down to the stable yard and was told by the Head Groom that you had been gone nearly a quarter of an hour. Gloomy as a gravestone he was too swearin’ that monstrous horse of his Lordship’s would be the death of you. The things he said made my very heart come up into my mouth and I hurried back to the house in search of his Lordship’s own man. I was not a minute too soon either for there he was with his Lordship’s valise packed and leavin’ on the instant in a phaeton for London.
“‘His Lordship will be needin’ me,’ he says and I replies to him, ‘And what about my Lady? She will be needin’ me too. Take me with you if there is a drop of God’s mercy in your veins.’ Well, Miss Serena, he gave me five minutes, five minutes by his timepiece to get ready. I throws your gowns just as they were into a small trunk and I was there on the doorstep beside him when the phaeton comes round.
“We should have been in London sooner, but we were delayed at one of the Postin’ houses. Slow as snails they were and all that we could say and not even the gold his Lordship’s man offered them would make them hurry with the changin’ of the horses. I was nearly cryin’ with impatience when we got here and thankful I was to find that nothin’ worse had happened than that you were safe in bed.”
“Yes, I was safe – in bed,” Serena repeated.
Then she lay back against her pillows.
“Now let me cease my platterin’ and attend to you,” Eudora said. “’Tis somethin’ to eat and drink you are needin’. I will not be a moment longer than I can help and the housekeeper is a vastly obligin’ woman, I will say that for her.”
Eudora hurried from the room.
Serena lay still, looking around her, but with listless eyes.
Now the whole events of the evening returned to her, the fatigue, the misery of the last part of her journey, the feeling of cold, being soaked to the skin and dishevelled as she dismounted at Grosvenor Square and then – yes, then she saw again clearly as if it was painted on the wall, the picture that had met her eyes as she was announced to Justin and his friends.
Never, she felt, would she be able to forget the exotic beauty of the woman sitting beside him. She could still see those wide-set dark eyes and the enticing curve of that laughing mouth. Serena drew a deep breath. She knew now who the woman was. She had heard Nicholas speak of her two weeks ago at Staverley, she had listened to Isabel deride her bitterly and with spiteful jealousy. La Flamme!
It was she, of course and it was understandable how her beauty had made her the toast of St James’s. The bucks had flocked to Vauxhall Gardens to see her dance and Justin had taken her under his protection.
Serena shivered and felt suddenly cold and then turning over with a little convulsive movement she hid her face in the pillow. Why not be honest with herself, why not admit that she too was jealous, madly, crazily jealous? She loved Justin, and he – well, he had La Flamme.
In a few moments Eudora came back with a dainty tray set with silver dishes. To please her Serena made a show of eating, but she felt that every mouthful must choke her.
Then, while she was still
making a pretence of eating under Eudora’s watchful eye, there came a knock at the door. Eudora went to open it and Serena, listening, heard a voice say,
“His Lordship’s compliments and he would be greatly obliged if Miss Staverley would hold converse with him as soon as it is convenient in the morning room.”
Eudora came to the bedside and repeated the message.
Serena’s eyes were suddenly bright.
“Tell his Lordship I will be with him as soon as I am attired,” she replied and, as Eudora went to relay the message, she sprang from the bed.
Serena had never taken long to dress herself and this morning she was unusually swift. How thankful she was that Eudora had had the sense to bring some gowns with her! There was a new white dimity with an entrancingly demure fichu at the neck and with it went a blue sash and blue slippers.
The clock in the hall was only striking the eleventh hour as Serena emerged from her room and walked down the wide staircase.
A footman flung open the door of the morning room. Justin rose as she entered. His arm was in a sling, but he contrived to be amazingly immaculate.
He raised her fingers to his lips.
“Your servant, Serena.”
Somehow it was impossible for her to say anything, try as she would, and after a moment he added,
“You are rested? I was vastly troubled over your health last night.”
“I can only apologise for my most unseemly weakness,” Serena answered him.
She tried so hard to keep her voice steady, but it sounded tremulous and a little faint.
“You should certainly not apologise for what was an amazing feat,” Justin replied. “To have ridden here all the way from Mandrake was in itself no mean achievement, but to have ridden Thunderbolt was a miracle.”
“He carried me well,” Serena said quietly. “He is none the worse?”
Justin shook his head.
“I have just been out to see him in the stables. He is in fine fettle. A little extra exercise has been no hardship to him. But you? You are certain that you are not ill?”
“Quite certain,” Serena answered.
A Hazard of Hearts Page 27