Reawakening Miss Calverley

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Reawakening Miss Calverley Page 20

by Sylvia Andrew


  He didn’t reply immediately and her heart sank. She shouldn’t have asked—he was not going to tell her! But then he caught her hands in his and said, ‘Look at me, Antonia.’ When she obeyed, he said slowly, choosing his words with care, ‘I can’t explain about her at the moment. I wish to heaven I could. But I swear to you that her story will do you no harm, nor affect my love for you. Do you believe me?’

  She had to! She wanted to marry him more than anything in the world. And he had mentioned a sort of love. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do believe you. And I will marry you.’ He took a step towards her and she went on quickly, ‘But give me time to get used to the idea. I still can’t quite take it in—it has all happened so fast. I need time.’

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘You shall have it,’ he said. ‘But I think your family should be told. And I’d like my grandmother to know tonight before dinner. They’ll all keep it to themselves if we ask them to.’ She nodded and he said, ‘Antonia, I still think Croxton is a threat, and I’d like to engage an extra groom to help Lawson to look after you. Agreed?’ When she nodded again, he smiled and said, ‘Then shall we call your father in, Antonia?’

  * * *

  James had a word with his grandmother before he took Antonia along to see her. She was not at all surprised at what he had to say. ‘An…tonia Calverley! I suspected as much when I first saw her.’ She started to laugh. ‘So you’ve found the right woman at last, James? Didn’t I tell you before you even went to Hatherton that Sir Henry Calverley’s débutante daughter might be just the one for you? If I remember, you were very sure she wouldn’t be!’

  ‘I was wrong, ma’am. But we are not quite out of the wood yet. The last piece of the puzzle has still to fall into place.’

  ‘You’re sure you’re doing the right thing in not telling her the truth?’

  ‘No. But more experienced people say that her memory will be more completely restored if it returns unaided, and I have to go by that. I don’t deny it’s devilishly difficult not to say something to her, especially when—’ He broke off and his grandmother nodded sympathetically.

  * * *

  Lady Aldhurst was at her most gracious when she met Antonia. She offered her cheek for a kiss and said, ‘I’m very happy to welcome you, Miss Calverley. It’s high time James found someone he could bear to live with. I think you’ll do very well. Perhaps you can persuade my grandson to open up the family mansion and live in it. With you to help him he might not dislike the place so much. Roade should be occupied again.’ She turned to James and said with a wicked look, ‘You might like to take Miss Calverley to Hatherton—quite soon, perhaps?’

  Conversation at dinner flowed freely, and by the end of it the two most important ladies in James’s life had decided that they liked each other. Lady Aldhurst was so relieved that James was at last going to marry that she would have tried to approve of any girl he chose. But she soon saw that Antonia Calverley had just the sort of qualities she had hoped for—exquisite manners, independent enough to be interesting, well informed but with too strong a sense of humour to be a bore…and in love with James.

  * * *

  After dinner, James suggested that Antonia should play for them. She shook her head at her father’s claims for her, but sat down readily enough at the piano and asked, ‘What would you like?’

  After she had played one or two requests from her father and Lady Aldhurst, James pointed at some sheets of music that were lying on the piano. ‘What about these, Miss Calverley?’

  Antonia smiled and took the first one. It was a little waltz which she already knew by heart. She began to play…Never before had she found it so enchanting. James’s eyes were on her and she felt as if she was being drawn into his arms, the music taking her swirling into an empty ballroom, she was dancing, dancing…Such joy, such delight…Such heartbreak…Why was there heartbreak? She was about to lose James! She gave a cry and her hands landed on the keys with a crash. She swayed and almost fell, but James caught and held her, reassuring her, stroking her hair, while the rest of the party looked on in concern.

  Lady Pendell came over, but Antonia was already freeing herself from James’s arms. ‘I…I don’t know what happened,’ she said, looking at James. ‘I felt as if I was dancing and got dizzy. For a moment I thought I—’ She stopped and tried to smile. ‘Forgive me. You must think me very foolish. Let me play something else. A march or one of the Haydn pieces, perhaps?’

  ‘If Lady Aldhurst will excuse us, I think we should take you home,’ Lady Pendell said. ‘You’ve been doing too much, Antonia.’

  James had been standing in the shadows, but now he came forwards. He looked pale. ‘It’s my fault,’ he said. ‘I asked too much of her. And on our ride yesterday—’

  ‘Oh, but I have loved our rides!’ Antonia cried. ‘James, you promised to take me to Richmond. Let’s go there tomorrow! The fresh air will do me good. In fact, all I need is a little fresh air. Do say you’ll take me!’

  After some discussion Lady Pendell was persuaded that her niece would not suffer if she went out to Richmond the following day, and the party broke up with an arrangement that James would collect Antonia at eleven.

  * * *

  After everyone had gone Lady Aldhurst sat back and considered the situation. She found it highly intriguing. It was clear that James was very much in love with Antonia Calverley, his ‘Anne’. The girl herself was charming, but there had been something about that waltz…James seemed to blame himself for what happened. Had he been attempting to stir her memory? She frowned as she wondered how Antonia would react when she finally knew the truth. James was being very patient, but was he being wise in not telling her everything? He meant it for her own good, but the situation would have to be handled with the utmost care, if she were not to feel betrayed by his deception.

  And then, since she had as strong a sense of humour as either James or Antonia, she amused herself by picturing the scene when James took his new bride to Hatherton to be introduced to Mrs Culver. That would be something worth witnessing! She must do her best to be present!

  Chapter Sixteen

  James reproached himself bitterly for the effect of that waltz on Antonia. He had hoped perhaps to stir her memory by asking her to play it, but he had succeeded only in causing her confusion and distress. He told himself he must be patient, must do his best to build up Antonia’s confidence in him, her trust and love, without trying to remind her of their time at Hatherton. To that end he took her riding in Richmond Park, danced with her at the Porteouses’ ball, and wooed her as carefully, as cautiously as he knew. It wasn’t easy. James was a man deeply, passionately in love for the first time in his life, and, because of the extraordinary circumstances at Hatherton, he had been closer to Anne than normal society would ever have allowed. It wasn’t easy to behave with conventional restraint towards Miss Calverley of Upper Grosvenor Street when his mind was filled with memories of sitting with her through the night, comforting her, cherishing her, coaxing her out of her despair, and in the end loving her. But he did not forget the fear in her eyes on the one occasion his feelings had got the better of him. ‘Who are you?’ she had whispered. ‘How do you have such power over me?’ He had come so close to telling her then, and instinct, as well as the words of his friend, told him now that that would have been a mistake.

  His patience was rewarded. Antonia was soon herself again, witty, full of vitality and humour, and beginning to look on him as her trusted friend and companion. He was encouraged to believe that her memory would return before very long when, more and more frequently, she interrupted herself, looking bewildered. She would soon carry on as if nothing had happened, but he was sure something she had seen or heard had reminded her of that recent past. In Richmond Park she saw White Lodge in the distance and started towards it, exclaiming joyfully, ‘There it is…the white house…’ Then she stopped and shook her head. There was desolation in her voice as she said, ‘No, that isn’t it, after all.’ But
she turned to him with a determined smile and in a moment he had her laughing at a scandalous story about the occupants of the house.

  * * *

  While James was carefully building up his relationship with Antonia Calverley, Lord Croxton was brooding on ways to avenge himself on her father, the man responsible for his ruin and coming exile. The former all-powerful favourite of the Prince Regent knew it wouldn’t be easy—Briggs’s attempts so far had both failed. It would be safer—and much more satisfying—to destroy the Calverleys as they had destroyed him: by ruining their reputation. That wouldn’t be easy, either—the Calverleys were highly regarded, and the daughter was one of the Season’s successes. But they must have a weak spot somewhere—anyone, thought Lord Croxton cynically, anyone who claimed to be so respectable must have something to hide. Then fate in the person of Lady Barbara Furness gave him an idea…

  * * *

  Lady Barbara had not for one moment believed James’s explanation of the lady in the green riding habit, and was annoyed at his refusal to discuss it. Spurred on by her love of mischief, she told one or two of their friends, hoping to cause him embarrassment. But even she was surprised at the consequence. The story was slight and, in view of James Aldhurst’s reputation, not all that shocking, but it came at a point when the polite world was short of gossip. The tale spread, and soon the identity of ‘the lady in green’ was the subject of the liveliest speculation. Everyone demanded to know who she could be.

  * * *

  So the story came to Lord Croxton’s attention, and it roused his curiosity. It had never before occurred to him to question how Antonia Calverley had got back to London after the accident with the coach, but the Aldhurst estate was only a mile or so from the Portsmouth Road, very near where Briggs had lost her. Had she returned to Portsmouth to join her father? Or was it possible that she had taken refuge nearby—perhaps at Hatherton? Could Miss Antonia Calverley possibly be the mysterious lady in green? Lord Croxton decided it was worth investigating and he sent Portman, his valet, to make discreet enquiries at the Calverleys’ house in Grosvenor Street. Portman was a silver-tongued rogue and an accomplished liar, and what he learned from Lady Pendell’s servants was potentially so interesting that his master dispatched him the next day down the Portsmouth Road to Lady Aldhurst’s house.

  * * *

  At Hatherton, Mr Portman carefully avoided any contact with Lady Aldhurst’s formidable housekeeper, but the other servants saw no reason to be on their guard with him. Now that Miss Anne had gone, surely the need for caution had gone, too! Out of earshot of Mrs Culver they talked quite freely to a man who said he was looking for a little girl, not a grown woman.

  ‘I’m really very sorry we can’t help you, Mr Portman,’ said Rose, as they walked back from the village. ‘It must be such a worry for you. But Miss Anne was much older than your niece, and she had dark hair, not blonde. She never did remember who she was, though I’m sure she was a lady. His lordship spent a lot of time with her—I think he’d have kept her here, but Mrs Culver wouldn’t allow it.’

  ‘Strict, is she?’ said Mr Portman with a sympathetic grin.

  ‘Oh, she isn’t so bad. But she didn’t like it when she saw that his lordship was getting sweet on Miss Anne.’

  When he saw that Rose had nothing more for him, Mr Portman went on up to Roade, where he was fortunate enough to meet the caretaker’s wife. Mrs Agnew was more than ready to gossip.

  ‘You’re quite right, Mr Portman! The last time his lordship came here he brought someone with him, but it wasn’t a child! Goodness me, no!’

  ‘Ah! I think I know who you mean, Mrs Agnew. Would that be a lady in green?’

  ‘That’s right! Miss Anne’s riding dress was green. Lovely she looked in it, too. I don’t blame his lordship for being so taken with her, but you should have seen the way they kissed, Mr Portman…! In broad daylight, too. I’m not often shocked, but that shocked me, I can tell you.’

  * * *

  Lord Croxton was delighted with the story Portman brought back with him, and debated for a while how best to use it. It didn’t worry him that people might ask how Antonia Calverley had come to be halfway up the Portsmouth Road in a wrecked coach in the first place. He would be safely clear of England and on the high seas, bound for the West Indies, before anyone worked that out. No, the story was too good to waste. It was scandalous enough that Antonia Calverley had spent a week with any man unchaperoned. But that she had spent it with such a well-known rake as James Aldhurst was more than enough to blow her reputation to the four winds, and to destroy her father’s hopes for ever! He gloated as he waited for the right moment to use it.

  By a fortunate coincidence Lady Furness had not withdrawn his invitation to her soirée, and that was where he would strike. Henry Calverley had ruined him. In return, before his departure into exile, he would ruin Henry Calverley’s daughter.

  * * *

  Antonia was not as perfectly happy as she tried to appear to be to James. He would have been astonished at how much she longed for him to kiss her again with even half the passion he had shown her on the day he had asked her to marry him. But though he was attentive, kind, amusing, he seemed to have drawn back from her since that day, as if he had some secret that he didn’t wish to share. She occasionally wondered whether he even loved her—he had never said so, not in so many words. She kept telling herself that it didn’t matter. James was honourable, and she loved and trusted him, but the odd feeling persisted. And when stories about the girl in a green riding dress began to circulate all round London, her fears were roused again. James liked her and wanted to marry her, but, as she had known ever since the day in the Park, the one he really loved was the mysterious woman in green.

  Antonia’s dreams had always been full of images of people and places. Now, this feeling of insecurity gave rise almost every night to dreams in which mocking crowds surrounded her, pointing their fingers in scorn, or turning away in contempt. Though she herself remained in ignorance, she knew they had discovered where she had been and what she had been doing while she was missing and, whatever it was, it was shameful. And now, James was always in the background of these nightmares. She could see him bending over a girl in green, looking so protective, so tenderly possessive while she stood lost and alone, and in her dream Antonia knew she was about to lose him…

  * * *

  When the Calverleys arrived at Lady Furness’s soirée the rooms were already filled with Lady Barbara’s friends, who knew that this would be a special occasion and were eager to take part. Sure enough, halfway through the evening, Lord Furness announced, as expected, that his daughter Barbara was to marry Captain Harry Barcombe. James and Antonia were among those who quickly surrounded Lady Barbara and her fiancé.

  Lady Barbara, looking flushed and happy, spoke for once quite genuinely. ‘I owe you an apology, James. I think I might have done more harm than I intended with this stupid story of the green lady. I wish now I had kept it to myself.’

  ‘So do I!’ said James, a touch grimly. ‘But I’m hoping Harry will keep you in order in the future. Try to make him happy, Barbara!’ He bent forwards and kissed her on the cheek.

  A couple of Harry’s army friends at the other end of the room were observing the scene with a doubtful eye.

  ‘I hope Harry knows what he’s doing,’ said one. ‘Barbara Furness isn’t a woman for the faint-hearted. I must say, I always thought she’d have Aldhurst in the end. He would have a better idea of how to deal with her tricks. But it looks now as if he’s interested in the Calverley girl.’

  The other gave a snort of laughter. ‘How the devil does James Aldhurst do it? Here in London he cultivates the latest star of society and at the same time makes love to another lady kept discreetly in the country. You know, I’d give a guinea to know who that woman in green really is!’

  Lord Croxton had been standing behind them. He raised his voice as he said, ‘Would you really like to know, Carstairs? I could tell you who she is
, if you wish…’ He examined the group of people round him, who had all turned to listen. ‘Good heavens!’ he exclaimed. ‘How you’re all staring at me! It’s the first time in weeks that most of you have noticed me at all! But now you all want to know the name of Aldhurst’s mistress! Well, I think I shall tell you. And how astonished you will be! Astonished…Indeed, I think you will all be outraged!’

  The buzz of conversation ceased and there was a sudden silence. James, looking murderous, started pushing his way through the crowds towards Croxton. Sir Henry called threateningly, ‘Croxton! Why don’t you leave before you make the biggest mistake of your miserable life? We can still change our minds about what to do with you. There are still laws—’

  Something about Sir Henry, perhaps the underlying contempt in his voice, infuriated Croxton so much that he forgot caution.

  ‘I don’t give a damn for your laws!’ he shouted, shaking with a mixture of triumph and rage. ‘The world ought to know the sort of girl you’ve brought to London, you smug hypocrite! Your precious daughter isn’t the model of virtue you’ve led us all to believe. Far from it! Before she joined you in London she spent a week alone with Aldhurst at his grandmothers’ place. We can all imagine what they got up to there, can’t we!’ He turned to the crowd. ‘You want to know who the lady in green is?’ He thrust out an arm and pointed at Antonia. ‘It’s her! That one there! The lovely and not-so-innocent Antonia Calverley!’

  James broke through the crowds and, before anyone could stop him, had knocked Croxton to the floor and was standing over him, ready to strike again if he attempted to get up. ‘You’ll apologise before you so much as lift a hair of your damned head again, Croxton,’ he said between his teeth. ‘I’m waiting!’

  Croxton’s moment of uncontrolled anger was over, and he was now regretting his public outburst. He had intended to drip the information insidiously into a few carefully chosen ears, not shout it out and provoke a challenge—he was no hero. And now Aldhurst was leaning over him, looking so dangerous that he cowered on the floor and muttered, ‘I…I’m sorry! I apologise, I apologise!’

 

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