Dorothy Eden (22 page)

But now it must be fifteen minutes past the appointed time, and no one had come. One of the windows in the summer house was broken, making it intensely cold. It passed through Sarah’s mind that it was very odd Amalie should spend time down here, even if she were dreaming of the summer. But she had obviously been here very recently, for, as Sarah sat a few minutes in one of the broken wicker chairs, she saw something shining among the dust and debris of dead leaves on the floor, and picked it up to find it was a small jet brooch.

But that couldn’t be Amalie’s. It wasn’t good enough. It was unobtrusive and inexpensive. It must belong to one of the servants. Perhaps more than one person made the summer house a rendezvous.

But what a place, in winter!

Sarah shivered, and drew the shawl closely about her. She was getting anxious and impatient. She couldn’t be out too long. Someone would be asking for her. And it was growing darker all the time, with a white moon showing fleetingly behind racing storm clouds. The wind smelt of the sea.

Where was James Brodie? Had he lost his way? She prayed he would have the sense to invent a plausible story if he ran into Soames. Supposing he ran into Blane, and had Ambrose’s letter discovered on him! But surely Blane would not have the discourtesy to search a man, even supposing him a poacher or a criminal.

The wind was stirring the surface of the lake, and the water lapped gently among the reeds. It was scarcely two yards from the door of the summer house, and filled the place with its cold smell. A swan flew over with a faint thunder of wings. The dark shadow of the woods in the distance gave no sign of an approaching figure.

She looked away from the lake to the house. The windows glowed with their gentle yellow radiance, infinitely warm and desirable. Now all of the downstairs was alight, too, as hurrying servants did last-minute tasks. But the ball seemed to Sarah like a dream, thrust into the back of her mind by the imminence of Ambrose’s news. It might be more than a still slightly painful ankle that prevented her from dancing tonight.

Ah! Footsteps at last, crunching on the pebbles by the lakeside. Thank heaven, for in the gloom she would soon not be able to identify her visitor. She peered out of the window, trying to see from what direction he came and to get a glimpse of him before he saw her.

But a voice at the door of the summer house made her gasp.

‘Amalie! Amalie, what
are
you doing here? I can’t understand this nonsense, mooning by a lakeside in midwinter. You surely can’t be waiting for somebody. Or are you? Don’t tell me it’s a rendezvous.’

It was Blane. Sarah stood petrified. She didn’t dare to show her face. But how could she not?

‘Amalie, are you in a trance?’

Blane had crossed over to her, and taken her roughly by the arm, swinging her round.

He gave an exclamation. His expression was hidden by the darkness. Sarah could see only the shine of his eyes.

‘You!’ he said.

He hadn’t relaxed his grip on her arm. Indeed, his fingers were pressing painfully into her flesh. His face was near to hers.

‘What are you doing here, Miss Mildmay? Tell me.’

Before she could speak, he went on, ‘I don’t want one of your clever plausible-explanations. Indeed, you’d have to think hard to produce any explanation for being by the lakeside after dark. It can’t be for the fresh air.’ He went closer. Suddenly his voice was harsh and imperative. ‘Who are you waiting for?’

Supposing James Brodie were to come at this minute! Sarah managed to gasp, ‘No one, Lord Mallow.’

‘I don’t believe you. I don’t trust you. You are, I believe, the most devious woman I have met. Come now, a simple answer.’

‘I lost a brooch,’ Sarah said on an inspiration. ‘I thought it might have been down here.’

‘You mean you came down here after dark to look for something! Without a light of any kind? Oh, come, Miss Mildmay, where’s your ingenuity?’

‘But I found the brooch. This is it.’

As she loosened his grip, she fumbled in her pocket and produced the modest ornament.

She had still underestimated him, for after striking a match and looking at the brooch, he dismissed it scornfully, ‘I have yet to see you wearing something in that taste. Oh, no, Miss Mildmay. Think again.’

Sarah had regained her presence of mind. She was even conscious of a strange elation. Ambrose had not guessed how exhilarating it would be pitting her wits against this man’s.

‘I’m afraid I haven’t time to invent an explanation, Lord Mallow. I must go up to Titus.’

‘You’re impertinent.’

‘I’m sorry if you think so. Perhaps I resent your accusations.’

She made to leave the summer house. Another rendezvous would somehow have to be made with James Brodie. It was exasperating and dreadfully disappointing. Yet she was conscious of nothing but this exhilaration.

Blane stood across the doorway, barring the way.

‘You’re up to something. I should get rid of you. I should agree with my wife. But—’

She hadn’t an inkling of his intention. His arms were about her before she could move. She was held in that same hard grip, and her head forced up so that he could find her mouth.

She couldn’t have said how long the kiss lasted. She only knew that when he let her go she almost fell.

He was laughing softly.

‘What a fortunate thing you lost that horrible little brooch. Otherwise this couldn’t have happened. Could it?’

Even in her confusion she got his meaning. If she were in the summer house on some private affair of her own this episode must also remain private.

As if she would want to talk of it!

‘Did you get it?’ Eliza whispered eagerly, when at last she arrived in the nursery.

Sarah shook her head furiously. She had not meant to make Eliza her confidante, but she could not hide her distress.

‘Lord Mallow found me there.’

‘The master!’ Eliza gaped fascinatedly.

‘He wanted to know what I was doing. I said I had lost a brooch, and was looking for it. So then he came up to the house with me. I couldn’t wait for Mr Brodie. Isn’t it sickening?’

‘How clever you thought of the brooch,’ Eliza said admiringly.

Sarah fingered the piece of jet in her pocket. Strangely enough, she didn’t want to tell Eliza that there had been a brooch. Something kept her silent.

‘So now I haven’t got the letters,’ she said.

‘Lor, Miss Mildmay, what a shame. You do look upset.’

‘I’ll have to find some reason to go into Yarby tomorrow and see Mr Brodie.’

‘Couldn’t you have the toothache again? I mean, not suffering as you were last time, but just pretending?’

‘I don’t know, Eliza. I’ll have to think. I only hope Mr Brodie isn’t angry at having his trip for nothing.’

‘It’s lucky he didn’t run into the master.’

‘Yes, at least that didn’t happen.’ Sarah tried to collect her scattered wits. ‘Is Titus in bed?’

Eliza nodded. ‘And asleep,’ she said proudly. ‘I promised him if he went to sleep quick he’d be allowed up later for the ball. So he went off as good as gold. But Lady Malvina’s been looking for you.’

‘Oh. What did you say?’

‘I said you had a headache, and wanted to snatch a breath of air before this evening.’

Eliza learned quickly, Sarah reflected. Perhaps there was something devious in the simplest women. Even if, as Blane had said, she was the most devious. She couldn’t think of him without her cheeks burning. And her arm already showed a bruise. She would have to keep her shawl on this evening. And stay on the stairs in the shadow with Titus. ‘She had no wish to dance or to be seen. Ambrose would be so impatient with her bungling. And if he knew of Blane’s behaviour he would be furious. ‘He was a drunkard and a lecher.’ Lady Malvina’s words, under the influence of too much port, kept coming back to her. If that was a picture of Blane as a youth, he hadn’t changed.

So this man must be the real Blane. It was the first time she had admitted it. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t think beyond this evening and the ordeal of the ball.

Lady Malvina came in in her unceremonious way as Sarah was dressing. She looked very splendid in her enormous crinoline of plum-coloured silk, with the ropes of pearls on her massive bosom, and her hair piled in a precarious erection of ringlets and jewelled combs.

‘Well, Miss Mildmay, this is more like it, isn’t it? The Mallows cutting a dash once more. How do I look?’

‘Very impressive, Lady Malvina.’

‘Impressive! What an excellent choice of word. I like that. I was looking for you a little while ago. Eliza said you had a headache. I hope it’s better, though I must say you’re looking rather flushed.’

‘It’s nothing, Lady Malvina.’

‘H’mm. That’s what I thought when I saw you coming up from the lake with my son. It was you, wasn’t it, Miss Mildmay?’

Sarah could not escape the shrewd eyes.

‘Why yes. Lord Mallow found me walking down there.’

‘Well, don’t let my daughter-in-law catch you at it.’

‘Lady Malvina—’

‘Don’t explain, my dear. It’s reassuring to find my son so little changed after all. But be careful, for Titus’s sake. Let him grow a little stronger before he loses you.’

‘Lady Malvina, I assure you you couldn’t be more mistaken.’

The old lady had to take notice of the indignation in her voice.

‘But I often see someone down at the lake. It is you sometimes, isn’t it?’

‘Today was the first time. And my meeting with Lord Mallow was quite accidental. Do you think I’m lying to you?’

‘Oh, tush! I wouldn’t put it past you, Miss Mildmay. You’re a clever young woman. But in that case,’ now the uneasiness was very apparent in her eyes, ‘it must always be Amalie. And she’s not the type to moon by lakes. Is she? Is she, Miss Mildmay? One night—’

But Lady Malvina didn’t go on with what she had been about to say. Sarah, on an impulse, picked up the jet brooch and held it out.

‘Other people do walk down there, because I found this. I should think it belongs to one of the servants, wouldn’t you?’ Lady Malvina looked at the brooch with interest.

‘What a dreary little piece of jewellery! It looks familiar. Who have I seen wearing it?’ She was about to say something more, but all at once a strange wary look came into her face. She closed her lips firmly.

‘Should I ask the servants?’ Sarah enquired.

‘No, I don’t think I’d do that, Miss Mildmay.’

‘But someone might value it.’

‘They might value their good reputation more. We don’t want a scandal.’

She couldn’t be thinking of her son with one of the servants—as he had just been with Sarah, snatching casual kisses. No, not snatching, forcing them on her.

‘You mean—’ she faltered.

Lady Malvina nodded. ‘I advise you to forget it, Miss Mildmay.’

Then, to put some disturbing thought out of her mind, she swooped on Sarah’s jewel box and looked at its contents.

With a complete change of manner she exclaimed sincerely,

‘Oh, dear, Miss Mildmay, your jewellery is very ladylike, isn’t it? What a pity! And you have such a pretty neck. You’d set the diamonds off much better than Amalie will. Now don’t get upset again!’ A fat beringed finger was waved in Sarah’s face. ‘I’m merely stating a fact.’

It was after the ball had started and she had led an excited Titus, dressed in his red jacket, to a place of observation on the stairs, that a curious trick of memory made Sarah remember where she had seen that jet brooch before.

It had been pinned at the modest high neck of Mrs Stone’s drab grey dress.

T
ITUS WAS VERY EXCITED.
He hung over the bannisters looking at the gay scene and chattered incessantly. Standing beside him, Sarah, too, watched with interest as Amalie and Blane greeted their guests. The diamonds glittered round Amalie’s neck. They gave her assurance. She looked affable and gracious, and was enjoying her moment of importance.

She had better make the most of it, poor thing, while she could, Sarah thought. For it wasn’t going to last long. And what if she lost both Mallow and her husband’s fidelity?

Blane, Sarah could scarcely bear to watch at all. But she must. For she wanted to observe every nuance of the greetings he was given by all these people whom he must pretend to know.

Tomkins was announcing the names so clearly that he was protected temporarily from mistakes. One would never have guessed from his demeanour that the evening was an ordeal. But was it? He was a gambler, a man who got tremendous zest from a challenge. And he had no conscience. One was sure of that now Probably his black eyes were sparkling with mischief and pleasure.

If for one moment, thought Sarah, only one moment, she could have the satisfaction of seeing him at a loss, disturbed, defeated.

‘The music’s beginning,’ said Titus. ‘Are you going to dance, Miss Mildmay?’

‘I’m going to stay here with you.’

The little boy’s sensitive face held concern for her enjoyment.

‘But you have your best dress on.’ Then he slid his hand into hers contentedly. His eyes were shining. He had the entranced look of a child in fairyland. The only other time he wore this look was when he was with Soames and his pony. ‘How many candles are there burning? Shall we have ices later? Doesn’t Mamma look pretty? Can we watch the dancing, Miss Mildmay?’

‘Yes, when it begins. We’ll sit at the bottom of the stairs.’ (When Titus had gone back to bed, she thought, she might slip secretly down to the lake just to see if James Brodie had lingered.)

‘Will you stay with me all the time, Miss Mildmay?’

‘Yes, my darling.’

‘Won’t you really dance? Won’t someone ask you?’

‘I shall refuse.’

But Blane would take no refusal. He had been dancing with his wife. Sarah had watched them, catching a glimpse of Amalie’s uplifted face, strained and brilliant. But now she was being the gracious hostess once more, dancing with Colonel Fortescue, and Blane had shamelessly left the ballroom to talk to the governess.

He said, ‘Where’s Eliza? Get Eliza to stay with Titus. Come, Miss Mildmay, this is an order.’

‘Do you want to make a scandal?’ Sarah muttered furiously.