The Conqueror's Dilemma (18 page)

He was silent for a moment or
two, and Tiffany, throwing him a brief look, saw he was watching the people
passing by, a mulish expression in his face. He must have sensed her stolen
glance, for he turned and caught her eye.

‘Perhaps you can make it clear to
me, Miss Felton,’ he said in a conversational tone, ‘why it is Lady Drumbeg
blows hot and cold upon my pretensions. I had supposed her invitations designed
to encourage me. Yet when I broach the matter, she is loath to commit you into
my keeping.’

Tiffany was both astonished and
affronted. ‘I beg your pardon? What in the world can you mean?’

Sir Lambert eyed her in a
calculating fashion. ‘Simply this, Miss Felton. Your chaperon virtually
promised, at the outset of our delightful acquaintance, that I might take you
for my bride. Lately, however, she—’

‘Do you imagine I am at Lady
Drumbeg’s disposal?’ demanded Tiffany, breaking in without ceremony. ‘Then let
me disabuse you, sir. She is not my guardian, nor has she any control over my
future. Even were I willing, your proposals must needs be addressed to my
uncle, Mr Matthew Felton. And should I be so mad as to suggest to him an
alliance with a man years older than he is himself, I am convinced he would
lock me up!’

So angry was Tiffany, she was
scarcely aware of the flood of colour rushing into Chicheley’s worn cheeks. But
next moment it was borne in upon her that the altercation had drawn attention
to the box, for Mrs Gosbeck was shushing her frantically and her chaperon had
turned an irate glare upon her. Tiffany threw a wild glance round and
encountered a number of interested faces. Mercifully, she recognised none of
them, but the image of one face sprang to mind and she found herself wishing
desperately that the Conqueror might appear and whisk her away.

Lady Drumbeg was rising. ‘Let us
take a turn about the promenade.’

Tiffany got up with alacrity,
shaking out her muslin petticoats as she waited for a flustered Mrs Gosbeck to
surge to her feet and totter out through the low door Sir Lambert was holding
open. With disgraceful rudeness, he did not wait for Tiffany to come out, but
turned immediately and offered an arm each to the two elder ladies. Inordinately
relieved, Tiffany followed at a little distance.

Before she had taken many steps,
a touch on her arm caught her attention. She half-turned, and a hand thrust a
scrap of paper into her fingers and vanished again. Tiffany instinctively
crushed the thing within her palm to conceal it, looking quickly round. She saw
no one close enough who might have acted thus secretively, nor were any of the
people about her even looking in her direction. Who could have done it?

An impossible idea darted into
her mind. Could it have been Mr Westerham? Tiffany could think of none other
who might have occasion to pass her a clandestine message. The manner of his
seeking her out at the Pantheon rose into her mind, and she was instantly on
fire to read whatever might be written on the paper nestling in her palm.

But how to find an opportunity?
Where in this assembly could she gain an instant of privacy? As she thought
hard, she became conscious of an eerie sensation of being watched. Instinct caused
her to hunt the nearby faces again, this time in earnest. But she could see no
one resembling the Conqueror and could only conclude he must have melted away
into the crowd. She must find a way to read the note.

Then it came to her. In an
instant, she picked up her pace and caught up with the three in front.

‘Ma’am, pray wait!’

The trio halted, Lady Drumbeg
removing her arm from Sir Lambert’s and turning a look of cold enquiry upon
Tiffany. ‘What is it?’

‘I have discovered a tear in my
gown,’ Tiffany improvised breathlessly. ‘There is a ladies’ retiring room here,
is there not? Will you excuse me?’

‘For heaven’s sake! Well, you
can’t go wandering about Vauxhall on your own. Sir Lambert had best escort you
and bring you back again.’

By no means. That would ruin all.
Tiffany wasted no breath on expostulation. ‘Thank you, but I would prefer the
company of Mrs Gosbeck, if she does not mind coming with me.’

The lady disclaimed immediately,
with an anxious look cast at her friend, the frill of her lacy mob-cap
fluttering. ‘No, no, Miss Felton, dearie, I’d be happy to do it. You don’t
object, do you, Eva?’ She gave a flustered laugh. ‘Ain’t as if I’m a dashing
blade, liable to take liberties.’

‘Very well, go if you must,
Eliza,’ came snappily from Lady Drumbeg, as she twitched at her silks. ‘You’ll
find us back in the box.’

With which, she turned, fairly
dragging a reluctant Sir Lambert with her, he casting glances behind which
Tiffany interpreted as acutely suspicious. Not that she cared. She tucked a
hand into Mrs Gosbeck’s arm.

‘It is so kind in you, thank you.
I could not have endured to go with him.’

‘Oh, Miss Felton, dearie, don’t
think I blame you. I’m that sorry Eva insists on keeping him about you. Only
she says as how she’s got to find you someone before the Season’s out, and it
had better be Sir Lambert if there ain’t no one else.’

‘Well, it won’t be Sir Lambert, I
can assure you of that, Mrs Gosbeck.’

‘Goodness, I’m glad to hear you
say so. I’ve always thought him a foul man, and if he didn’t murder them wives
of his, I’m certain sure they all three died of fright.’

Tiffany could not help laughing.
‘I doubt it’s as bad as that, ma’am, but in any event I have no intention of
following them. Now do you know where to find the ladies’ retiring room, if you
please, for I am quite at sea?’

Fortunately Mrs Gosbeck, a
frequent visitor to the Gardens, was well able to lead her in the right
direction. She bustled off at once, bringing Tiffany along with her at a pace
unlikely in one of her bulk. It was the first time the two of them had been
alone, and much to Tiffany’s surprise, Mrs Gosbeck took full advantage of the
opportunity to unburden herself of surprising sentiments.

‘I’m glad to have a chance to
talk to you, dearie, for there’s a deal I’ve wanted to say, only with Eva by I
couldn’t, you see.’ She glanced behind in a furtive manner, as if she half
expected to find Lady Drumbeg at her back. ‘You mustn’t mind me saying anything
Eva might not like, for I’ve known her all my life and she’s been a good friend
to me, for all you might not think it. But Mr Gosbeck always said you oughtn’t
to be blind to the faults of those you care for, and I’ve took his words to
heart.’

‘Make yourself easy, ma’am,’ said
Tiffany, intrigued to the point of momentarily forgetting her urgent wish to
find out the contents of the paper securely tucked in her fingers. ‘You may say
what you wish to me, for I won’t take offence. I confess I have had some hard
thoughts of my own concerning my chaperon.’

‘Well, you would, dearie, so
roughly as she treats you.’ Mrs Gosbeck shook her head. ‘She always does so,
you know, and the poor young things are terrified mostly. I’ve remonstrated
with her scores of times, but it don’t make a happorth of difference. Always
goes her own way, does Eva.’

Tiffany became impatient of this
divagation. ‘What is it you wanted to tell me, ma’am?’

 ‘Well, that’s it, really.
Eva don’t mean to be unkind, you see, only she’s of that type of disposition.
Impatient. Always was. And little though she thinks I know it, she’s cherished
those ambitions of hers for years and years.’ Mrs Gosbeck tutted sadly. ‘It’s
no use my speaking out, for she can’t and won’t see how silly it is to be
wishing her life away in such a useless fashion. Now, ain’t it, Miss Felton?
For myself, I’d sooner be dead than have them nobs look down their noses at me
like they do. But Eva—like water off a duck’s back it is. All she wants is for
them to let her in, and they won’t. Not for all the money in the world they
won’t.’

Despite everything, Tiffany could
not help feeling sorry for Lady Drumbeg. Yet she could not understand such
steadfast determination. ‘Doesn’t she feel humiliated?’

‘Oh, she does, make no mistake,’
stated Mrs Gosbeck. ‘It’s what makes her so bad-tempered. But she won’t give it
up. She’ll die trying, Eva will, I’m sure of that.’ She leaned her plump
countenance towards Tiffany. ‘That’s why I wanted you to know. So’s you
wouldn’t be upset by it when she treats you bad. She don’t mean it underneath.’

Tiffany was inclined to dispute
this, but she refrained from saying so. By this time, her mission had been
recalled to her mind and she was relieved when, a moment later, her companion
turned into a walkway leading to a small building set apart from the main arena
of the Gardens.

‘Here we are, Miss Felton. Now
you may pin up your dress and none the wiser.’

A sliver of guilt seized Tiffany.
On impulse, she blurted out the truth.

‘Nothing has happened to my gown,
Mrs Gosbeck. I’m afraid I merely wanted to be alone so I might read this.’ She
opened her hand and produced the scrap of paper, which was now crushed into a
ball.

‘Goodness me, what is it?’ Mrs
Gosbeck’s eyes popped suddenly. ‘Gracious, is it a billy-doo?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Tiffany
truthfully, working at the paper to unravel it and smoothing it out with
trembling fingers. She lifted it to the light and read it with eager eyes. It
was without doubt a billet-doux, but it was unsigned. Her heart sprang into
life, hammering heavily in her chest.

‘
I must speak with you. Pray
meet me at the end of the Long Walk as soon as may be.
’

It must be Mr Westerham. Who else
would request her presence in such a clandestine fashion?

‘Who is it from?’ demanded Mrs
Gosbeck.

‘I am not certain. At least, I am
sure it—’ Tiffany broke off, obedient to the thrusting urgency in her breast.
‘Mrs Gosbeck, where is the Long Walk?’

‘Gracious, have you to meet
someone there?’

‘Where is it, pray?’

Mrs Gosbeck began visibly to
fret. ‘Oh, lud, ought I to let you? Miss Felton, dearie, are you sure it ain’t
a hum?’

Tiffany seized her hands,
heedless of the note crushing once more in her fingers. ‘Mrs Gosbeck, don’t try
to stop me! It is vital I go.’

‘Goodness, it’s
a beau! It must be. Oh, Miss Felton, I’m that pleased for you. Only why don’t
he come about like an honest man and—?’

‘It is complicated. He can’t.
Anyway, he isn’t a beau, not really. Pray don’t ask me any more questions, but
tell me how to get to the Long Walk.’

Mrs Gosbeck hopped from one foot
to the other in her indecision, the fringes of her embroidered shawl flicking
from side to side. ‘I know Eva will be furious, but—’

‘Don’t tell her! Pray don’t. It
will be our secret.’

‘Yes, but what am I to say if I
go back without you?’

‘Anything.’ Tiffany thought fast,
releasing the lady’s hands. ‘Oh, tell her I have the headache and have begged
to be allowed to remain here for a spell. I promise I will return to the box
when it is over.’

Mrs Gosbeck gazed at her in
sudden shock. ‘You ain’t thinking of going off with him, are you? Oh, Miss
Felton!’

‘Of course not.’ Impatience
gnawed at Tiffany. ‘Have I not just said I will rejoin you as soon as I may?
Well, if you won’t tell me how to get there, I will just have to find it for
myself.’

She started off, but Mrs Gosbeck
caught at her with flustered fingers. ‘Oh, very well, I’ll show you. Only I
dread to think what Eva would say if she guessed.’ A moment more she held fast
to Tiffany’s arm. And then she beamed suddenly and released her. ‘There now, if
I ain’t a silly old woman. Here I have a romance dropped right in my lap and
I’m boggling at aiding in it. Come then, it ain’t far to the Long Walk.’

From a concealed vantage point, William watched the approach
of his quarry as she arrived at the start of the walk to the rendezvous. For a
moment he was dismayed to see her in company with the dumpy female he had seen
accompanying Lady Drumbeg. But with a cheery wave and some sort of expression
of good will, he assumed, this individual left Tiffany and departed.

He saw Tiffany hesitate for an
instant, draw her shawl more tightly about her, and then begin to walk. Her
step was resolute despite the apprehension he spied in her features. William
tracked her for about twenty yards, and then swung out of concealment and fell
into step beside her.

She started violently, turning
swiftly. But on catching sight of him, the breath sighed out of her.

‘Oh, it’s you! You gave me such a
fright.’

William took her arm and urged
her onward. ‘Forgive me, but I could not allow you to be walking down this
avenue unescorted, it is far too dangerous.’

‘Then I wonder at your appointing
it for a meeting place,’ said Tiffany frankly, prey to jumping nerves.

‘I had no other choice. There is
a little folly down the end where we may be private for a space.’ He glanced
down at her bent head. ‘Thank you for coming.’

She looked up briefly, her
heartbeat fluttering at sight of his handsome face. ‘You knew I would come.’

‘No, indeed, though I hoped you
might. I could not blame you if you resisted.’ A laugh shook him. ‘You showed a
good deal of faith, for I know I forgot to sign the note.’

Tiffany gazed steadfastly ahead
where she could see the outline of a small building with columns and a domed
roof in the Greek style. ‘Who else could it have been? I have no other
acquaintance, and Sir Lambert is of our party, so it could scarcely have been
him. Besides, it is only the Conqueror who seeks the company of a female who is
persona non grata.’

The bitter note was not lost on
him. ‘You need not taunt. I am all too aware of how badly I have treated you.
Nor am I proud of inveigling you into a meeting which is highly improper and
only compounds the fault. Yet I know of no other way to make things right.’