The Dream Chasers

by Melinda Hammond

  'Aye,' agreed Vivyan gloomily, 'and unless I break a leg or some such thing, I suppose I shall have to do so!'

  Since no mishap occurred in the following days, Mr Lagallan dutifully presented himself in Earl Mayfield's crowded ballroom in good time to lead Miss Pensford on to the floor for the first two dances. He was also able to secure one dance with Eustacia, and as they took their places in the set he complimented her upon her glowing looks. She did indeed look very well in a flowing gown of green lustring, with a single string of fine pearls gleaming at her neck. He regarded her closely, but could detect no hint of reserve or unhappiness beneath her sparkling good humour. 'You have spoken to Mr Alleyne?'

  Immediately her smile widened.

  'Yes. We talked a few days ago. Of course you will understand that he cannot constantly be in attendance upon me, for that would arouse the sort of gossip and speculation that is most abhorrent to us.'

  'I thought it was the world well lost with you,' observed Vivyan.

  Miss Marchant flushed slightly. 'Well, it is, but Rupert does not wish any scandal to be attached to our liaison.'

  The movement of the dance separated them, and they did not mention Mr Alleyne again until the dance had ended, and Vivyan was escorting Miss Marchant off the dance-floor. She cast a shy glance up at him.

  'Would you—that is—I should very much like to introduce Mr Alleyne to you, if you could allow it?'

  'Of course. Whatever made you think I should object?'

  She gave her head a little shake. 'I'm not sure. I think perhaps it is that you sound a little . . . disapproving when we talk of Rupert.'

  Taken aback by her perspicacity, Mr Lagallan stifled any mis-givings he felt about the young man, and smiled down at his companion.

  'Not a bit, Stacey! I should be delighted to meet him.'

  * * *

  It was midway through the evening before Mr Alleyne made an appearance. Eustacia was in the ante-room, standing near one of the tall windows with Helen Pensford, when she saw Mr Alleyne coming towards her. Immediately she broke off her conversation, her face lighting up as the young gentleman approached.

  At last you are here, Rupert! I had almost given you up!' She held out her hand to him.

  Mr Alleyne bowed over her hand.

  'My apologies, Miss Marchant.' He stressed her name, as if to chastise her for her own outspoken address. 'I am sorry I am so late, I—' The words died on his lips as he raised his eyes and looked for the first time upon Eustacia's companion. Miss Pensford had been standing with her back to him as he approached, but now he was aware of the full force of her beauty. He was immediately struck by the contrast between the two young ladies: Eustacia's flaming red hair and sparkling vivacity threw into strong relief Miss Pensford's cool ivory colouring. She was dressed in a gown of cream satin, which hung in soft folds about her willowy figure. Her corn-coloured hair was decorated with delicate white rose-buds, and her flawless skin was accentuated by the cornflower blue of her eyes, whose glance now rested upon Mr Alleyne with a look of cool friendliness. Mr Alleyne had not been an attentive scholar, but he was suddenly reminded of an ice-maiden from some half-forgotten classical myth.

  Watching this little tableau, Miss Marchant was unsurprised. She and Helen had attended many assemblies together in Somerset, and she was well aware of the effect of that cool beauty on young men. If she was disappointed that Rupert should succumb quite so readily to these charms, she stifled such ignoble feelings and performed the introduction, and after allowing them a few moments' conversation, she plucked at Mr Alleyne's sleeve.

  'Rupert, the orchestra is striking up again, and I have saved this next dance for you.'

  Reluctantly, Mr Alleyne tore himself away from Miss Pensford and accompanied Eustacia to the ballroom.

  'Miss Pensford is a neighbour of yours in Somerset, Stacey? I do not recall seeing her when I was at Burnett Lodge.'

  'Her family had just suffered a bereavement, and were living very retired.'

  'Ah, I see. But she is out of mourning now, I suppose, and will be in London for the season?'

  'Perhaps, I do not know,' Eustacia replied, briefly. She found his interest in her friend disturbing, and was relieved that the movement of the dance prevented further discussion.

  * * *

  The rest of the evening passed off as Eustacia had planned, but as the coach carried her back to Fanshawe Gardens in the early hours of the morning, she was aware of a faint cloud of disappointment settling over her. She could not say why this should be: Rupert had danced with her twice, and even had she wished to dance more with him it would have been impossible, since there had been a gratifying number of partners vying for her attention. She had been a little surprised to see Mr Alleyne standing up with Helen Pensford, for that beauty never lacked partners, and surely Rupert had arrived too late to secure a dance. Eustacia had been pleased when Mr Alleyne was introduced to Lady Bilderston, and even if she was a little disappointed that he did not make an appointment to call, that was not sufficient excuse for the lowness of spirits that had settled over her, and in the darkness of the carriage she went over the evening in her mind, trying to find a reason for her depression.

  It seemed to begin from the moment she had presented Mr Alleyne to Vivyan. The two gentlemen had been perfectly civil; in fact Mr Lagallan had been at his most charming and had even invited Rupert to accompany him to his club. Eustacia had been a little surprised at this, since she guessed that there must be ten years separating the two men. But she smiled at Mr Lagallan, grateful for this gesture, and as he moved away he paused beside her.

  'Well, nymph,' he murmured quietly, 'you have your man now, you no longer need me. I will bid you goodbye.'

  Sitting in the darkness of the coach, with Lady Bilderston snoring gently beside her, Eustacia frowned over the remark. Vivyan had left soon after, so there had been no chance to ask him what he meant by it, but she did not see that their friendship should change merely because she had found Rupert.

  * * *

  The following morning, Eustacia's youthful spirits were fully restored by a few hours' sleep. She had formed the habit of walking Snuffles every morning in the little park at one end of Fanshawe Gardens. Lady Bilderston allowed her to dispense with the services of an escort for these excursions, and Eustacia, accustomed to the freedom of long country walks, had come to value these morning outings as a period of solitude in her crowded days.

  The previous night's assembly had caused her to sleep a little later that morning, and it was almost noon when she set out with Snuffles for the park. Once inside the gates, she bent to unfasten the little dog's lead, and as she straightened she heard someone call her name. Looking around, she saw a gentleman striding towards her, and her heart sank as she recognized Nathan MacCauley.

  'Miss Marchant! Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise!' Mr MacCauley took off his hat and swept her a low bow, his fair hair falling forward over his brow as he rose. 'I stepped out to take the air and—may I have the pleasure of accompanying you?'

  Eustacia hesitated. She had no maid with her, but she was not alarmed, for the little park was not empty: several nursemaids from the surrounding houses had brought their charges to the park to take advantage of the fine autumn morning. With a slight inclination of her head, she allowed Mr MacCauley to fall into step beside her.

  'I am pleased to have this opportunity to renew our acquaintance, Miss Marchant. As you know, I am a friend of Mr Lagallan's, a great friend.' He glanced down at his companion, but when she remained silent he continued: 'Yes, our friendship goes back a very long way. How long have you known Vivyan?'

  'Not long,' she replied, cautiously. 'Only since coming to London.'

  'Ah yes, Vivyan escorted you to Town, did he not?'

  Eustacia forced herself not to look up at him.

  'No, I travelled here with Mrs Lagallan,' she said firmly.

  'You are related to Mrs Lagallan, perhaps, some sort of cousin?'

  'No, she i
s a very good friend of—of my family.'

  'And where did you say your family live?'

  'I did not.' Eustacia quickened her pace.

  'Oh, of course, of course.'

  They walked on in silence, and Eustacia hoped that her snub would quell her companion's desire to talk, but soon he began again. However, this time his conversation was so innocuous that she began to relax, and he even succeeded in making her laugh. Even so, she was relieved when she had completed her circuit and was again at the park gates. She secured Snuffles once more on his lead, and bade Mr MacCauley good day, but he insisted upon escorting her to her door, his manner perfectly polite, yet once inside the house and alone, Eustacia could not settle, and when Mrs Lagallan called to take her out that afternoon, she could scarcely wait until they reached the park before relating the whole episode to her.

  'Caroline, I am sure he has guessed the truth!' she ended, wringing her hands in dismay. 'There was such a knowing look in his eye!'

  'My dear, what can he do if he has guessed? As Philip has said, no one would believe such a tale! Just hold firm to our story, my love, and we shall come about.'

  Miss Marchant knew this to be very good advice, but she was still thankful that Nathan MacCauley was rarely to be seen at the parties she attended with her godmama.

  * * *

  In fact, Mr MacCauley was finding life in town much harder than he had expected. He had used his modest fortune to set himself up in style, taking rooms off Piccadilly, ordering his clothes from the most fashionable tailors, and generally posing as a smart man about town. The only cloud on his horizon was his lack of useful acquaintances.

  He found himself living on the fringes of society, without the necessary entree to the homes of London's top hostesses where, he was sure, his charm and wit could be truly appreciated. He bought himself a showy hack and rode in the park at the appointed hour, strolled down Bond Street with all the other beaux, but still only managed to get himself invited to one or two of the lesser drawing-rooms. As he fretted over his singular lack of success, he convinced himself that he could lay the blame for this failure squarely at Mr Lagallan's door.

  Vivyan Lagallan was the darling of society: his fortune could only be described as comfortable, but his striking good looks and polished manners made him a favourite with the hostesses who considered that his presence added lustre to their parties. Mr MacCauley thought it would have cost Vivyan very little to introduce his old friend to these same hostesses, and he had but thought it a great stroke of good fortune to meet Vivyan in Reading; but Mr Lagallan's blunt refusal to help him had been a shock, and it was not long before his disappointment was replaced by anger. Of course he was grateful to Vivyan for coming to his aid when he had been set upon by his pugilistic acquaintances, but nevertheless Nathan MacCauley considered that there was something havey-cavey about the young cousin whom Vivyan had in tow, and once he had seen Vivyan and Miss Marchant together, he was pretty sure he had rumbled him. However, he did not see how this information could be used to his advantage, since any attempt to discredit Vivyan would almost inevitably rebound. No, thought Mr MacCauley, he could not see his way clear yet, but Eustacia Marchant was a pretty little thing, and he had no objection to furthering his acquaintance with her, since Mr Lagallan's door was so firmly closed against him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Once Rupert Alleyne had been made known to Lady Bilderston, Miss Marchant was eager to further this acquaintance, and when she spotted an advertisement during one of her shopping trips with her godmother, she realized she had found a perfect opportunity. She waited until Lady Bilderston was settled once more in the carriage before saying casually:

  'Godmama, there is a masquerade evening at Vauxhall Gardens next week. I wonder—do you think we could get up a small party?'

  Lady Bilderston smiled at her.

  'My dear child, with all the balls, routs and ridottos we have attended, have you not had enough of parties?'

  'But Godmama, I have heard so much about the gardens—the thousands of coloured lamps, the orchestra playing in the Quadrangle, the Cascade—I would so dearly love to go!'

  'But Stacey, it is not at all fashionable now, you know—'

  'Perhaps not, but I heard Lady Trentham telling you that she had gone there recently, and found it most diverting!'

  Lady Bilderston could not deny it, and, faced with her god-daughter's entreaties, she soon found herself agreeing to the scheme.

  'And who would you like me to invite to join us?' she asked Miss Marchant.

  'Well, I thought perhaps Miss Pensford might join us.'

  'A very pretty-behaved young lady,' approved my lady, who was beginning to warm to the idea. 'And I think I shall invite Colonel Brentwood. Now, pray don't frown so, Stacey. I know you may think him a little old, but he has been my good friend for many years, and besides, we shall require a gentleman to escort us.'

  '1—I was thinking that p-perhaps we could invite Mr Alleyne,' muttered Eustacia, hoping that her godmother would not notice her flushed cheeks.

  'We can, of course: that will give us five people,' said Lady Bilderston, counting them off on her fingers. 'The supper-boxes will hold six comfortably, so perhaps we should ask another gentleman, just to make up the numbers. Do you think Mr Lagallan might come along? He is a friend of Miss Pensford's, I believe.'

  But when the invitations were issued, the messenger brought back Mr Lagallan's reply immediately: unfortunately that gentle-man was already engaged elsewhere.

  'Now, that is regrettable,' declared Lady Bilderston, handing the note to Eustacia. 'Can you think of any other young gentleman who might fill the gap?'

  Miss Marchant confessed that she could not, and after a few moments' contemplation her godmother gave a sigh, and shook her head.

  'No more can I. We shall have to go as we are. I am sure Mr Alleyne will be able to entertain two young ladies without any trouble!'

  Miss Marchant informed Rupert of this treat when they met at the subscription ball at Almack's the following Wednesday, and was surprised at his lack of enthusiasm.

  'What is the matter, Rupert, do you not wish to see Vauxhall?'

  'As a matter of fact I have been there, several times,' admitted the young man. 'But— Vauxhall is—can be—a little rowdy. It is not at all good ton, you know.'

  'But Rupert, everyone goes there! And what harm can there be in it? Godmama will make sure we come to no harm. Besides,' she added, her eyes twinkling, 'we shall be masked, so no one will recognize us.'

  Aye, 'tis the disguise that can sometimes make perfectly respectable people behave most improperly!' he muttered darkly.

  Eustacia laughed at him.

  'Oh, Rupert, do you think Helen and I will turn into hoydens just because our faces are covered?'

  'I have no doubt Miss Pensford would never allow herself to overstep propriety,' he returned stiffly, 'but you, Stacey—your liveliness can sometimes lead you to go too far.'

  'You did not object to it in Somerset!' she flashed, an angry flush mounting her cheeks.

  Mr Alleyne looked away.

  'No, and I have already told you how much I regret that episode.'

  He left her soon after, and Eustacia realized with a sinking heart that she had never felt so out of charity with him, as she confessed to Mr Lagallan when they met in the park the following day.

  Eustacia was riding a lively grey mare—a present from Lady Bilderston, and the horse's fine hocks, beautiful action and excellent lineage had to be discussed before anything else, but a chance word from Mr Lagallan made Eustacia enquire anxiously if perhaps she should ask her godmama to cancel the visit to Vauxhall.

  'Good God, no! Why should you want to do that, nymph? The last time we met, you could talk of nothing else.'

  'Oh, I know! And I do really want to go, to see the Cascade, and the Dark Walk, and— and everything!'

  'But?'

  'Well,yow declined to come with us.'

  He looked amused. 'On
ly because I have a prior engagement.'

  'But you have been to the gardens before, and—and you see nothing wrong with our going?'

  'Not at all. Why should I?'

  She bit her lip, then blurted out, 'Rupert is afraid that—that the masks will be a cover for indiscretion!'

  'I am sure they will be, in some instances,' replied Mr Lagallan, his eyes dancing. 'Is Mr Alleyne afraid you might allow yourself to be . . . indiscreet?'

  She nodded, indignation once more colouring her cheeks.

  'He deplores my liveliness, and thinks it may lead me to behave with—with impropriety!'

  'Not that you would ever do such a thing.'

  Her brow cleared and she laughed. 'Of course I would not, under normal circumstances! I am surprised Mrs Pensford will allow her daughter to accompany me, if I am such a bad influence!'

  He grinned at her. 'Oh, I don't think even you could lead Helen astray!'

  'But it will spoil the evening if Rupert is going to disapprove of everything!'

  'My dear child, has your godmama invited any ineligible persons to join you?'

  She sighed. 'No, that is just it. It is to be the most unexceptional party. Lady Bilderston has asked Colonel Brentwood to accompany us— do you know him? He is extremely old, and very deaf, but he dotes upon Godmama, and she thinks an older male escort is essential. Then there are only Miss Pensford, Mr Alleyne and myself.'

  'My poor nymph, in such proper company what could Mr Alleyne possibly fear? Cheer up, brat. I think you may safely go to Vauxhall and enjoy the sights. If my dinner engagement is very boring, I may even look in myself, just to see how you go on!'

  * * *

  Despite Mr Alleyne's reservations, the journey to Vauxhall was unremarkable. There was a lengthy delay in crossing Westminster Bridge, which was the only route to the gardens. It was early in the season for the gardens, and the lamps had already been lit and twinkled gaily in a colourful display along the paths. Colonel Brentwood had secured a supper-box for them near the orchestra, and from there they watched the crowds while nibbling sweet biscuits washed down by glasses of Arrack punch. Lady Bilderston might have looked askance at the meagre portions provided, but Eustacia was too entranced by the colourful costumes and lively music to criticize the refreshments. The crowds pushed past the box in a noisy stream of rainbow colours, the masks adding a frisson of excitement to the atmosphere. Miss Pensford sat very quietly opposite Eustacia and eyed with disfavour the jostling crowds. Lady Bilderston leaned forward to tap Mr Alleyne's sleeve with her fan.