A Change of Fortune (3 page)

She walked more slowly, remembering some previous departures, some decorous, others the very opposite. When impetuous, warmhearted Athena Raleigh had left, requested to do so on account of her rather-too-frequent meetings with young army officers in the park, Miss Hart had hypocritically delivered her usual speech, expressing her sorrow at losing so excellent a young lady; Athena had repaid this preposterous insincerity by delivering a retaliatory speech which left Miss Hart with a very red face and the rest of the school struggling to hide its delight and mirth. That day had certainly been the highlight of an otherwise dull term. Another term had been highlighted by the departure of Lady Imogen Longhurst, the tall, beautiful, spiteful daughter of the Earl of Wadford. Imogen’s capacity for unkindness and insincerity more than matched Miss Hart’s, and she was cordially disliked by most of the other pupils, especially Leonie, whom she had selected time and time again over the years as the object of her clever malice. The fact that the Earl and Countess of Wadford had been present at their daughter’s leaving ceremony had produced in Imogen an amazing skill as an actress. Obviously concerned that her parents might wonder at the lack of sorrow the other young ladies showed at their daughter’s departure, she had drawn all attention to herself by weeping copious tears and promising to visit them all again as soon as she possibly could. To everyone’s immense relief, no such visit was forthcoming.

Reaching the park gates, Leonie paused on the pavement, pondering the unfairness of life, for Athena, who had had so many friends, had eloped to Gretna Green with a scoundrel who’d made her very unhappy and had then deserted her. She now lived in severely reduced circumstances in Bath, disowned by her outraged family. Cold, scheming Imogen, on the other hand, had become the undisputed belle of the 1813 Season, and in the new year would be announcing her betrothal to Sir Guy de Lacey, a very handsome and wealthy gentleman who had fallen hopelessly in love with her at first sight. Leonie could only unkindly conclude that there must be something seriously wrong with Sir Guy’s eyes, as well as his judgment. Had there been any justice, she thought with a sad sigh, then things would have turned out in the opposite way, and odious Imogen would be languishing in Bath, while softhearted, lovable Athena basked in the adoration of a man like Sir Guy!

“Miss Leonie!” cried Katy suddenly, tugging at her arm and pointing behind. “He’s there again, look!”

Leonie turned quickly and saw two gentlemen riding across the park toward the gates. The man who had watched them the week before was riding a fine gray thoroughbred. He was dressed in a dark green coat and beige breeches, and he had not as yet noticed them. Beside him, the other gentleman was mounted on a large black horse. He was taller than his companion and about the same age, and his thin face had a quick, clever look. His eyes were so blue that the clearness of the color could be seen even at that distance, and his hair was a rich auburn which somehow made him seem oddly familiar to Leonie. In fact, everything about him suggested that she should know him, and yet she knew that she didn’t. She did know, however, that she instinctively disliked him as much as she did her unknown admirer. They were two of a kind.

At that moment her admirer saw her and reined in immediately, leaning over to point her out to his companion. The second man looked quickly toward her then, his blue eyes very sharp and shrewd.

Leonie didn’t hesitate; she caught a startled Katy by the arm and propelled her across Park Lane, which was much more busy now. A brewer’s wagon had to come to a sudden standstill or risk knocking them down, and the wagoner shouted furiously after them, waving his dirty fist, but Leonie didn’t even glance around. Reaching the seminary door, she knocked anxiously, and to her relief, Joseph, the Negro footman, admitted them almost immediately.

“Miz Leonie?” he cried in astonishment as she and Katy almost rushed into the vestibule.

She didn’t reply, but quickly peeped around the lace curtain of the tall, narrow window beside the door. The two riders had proceeded as far as the park gates, but no farther. They looked across at the seminary for a moment and then turned away, their horses moving at a mere walk toward the Serpentine.

Katy pushed close to her. “Who are they, Miss Leonie?”

“I don’t know, but somehow I feel as if I should know the second man, the one with the bright auburn hair.”

Katy nodded. “I know what you mean, he looked familiar to me too.”

“He did?” Leonie turned quickly to Joseph. “Joseph, come here quickly. Do you see the two gentlemen on horses?”

“Yes, Miz Leonie.”

“Do you recognize either of them?”

“No, ma’am. Except—”

“Yes?”

“Well, the one with the red hair reminds me, well, of Lady Imogen Longhurst.”

Leonie stared at him and then looked quickly out again, but the two riders had passed out of sight among the trees. Joseph was right, the second man
had
looked like Imogen, and that was why he’d seemed familiar. Imogen had a brother, her twin, Lord Edward Longhurst, and he was a notorious rake. He’d also set a record because his name had appeared more often in White’s betting book than anyone else’s, which was quite an achievement in a society devoted to gambling and wagering of one sort or another.

Slowly she turned back into the firelit vestibule, with its cream silk walls and elegant crimson chairs and sofa. It had been no coincidence that those two gentlemen had been riding in the park like that; every instinct told her that they had been hoping to encounter her once more.

Katy glanced concernedly at her. “Are you all right, Miss Leonie?”

“Hm?”

“Are you all right? You’ve gone so very quiet.”

Leonie turned with a brisk smile. “I’m quite all right, I was just thinking that in future I’ll walk somewhere else, but definitely
not
anywhere near the park.”

Katy nodded. “Yes, Miss Leonie.”

Leonie took a deep breath and smiled at Joseph. “Do you think Mrs. Durham could be prevailed upon to make some tea? I’m absolutely freezing.”

The footman smiled. “I’m sure she can, Miz Leonie. Oh, and, Miz Leonie?”

“Yes?”

“Miz Hart said to remind you when you returned that the countess will be here promptly at four.”

Leonie sighed. “Very well. Thank you, Joseph.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and went away toward the kitchens.

Leonie glanced at the long-case clock in the corner and then grimaced. “Two and a half hours to go, and then it will be all manners and p’s and q’s, all Russia and Smolny, then more Russia and more Smolny, a few new rules, some criticisms, and then even more Russia and Smolny. Oh, how I wish the wretched woman would go back to her precious St. Petersburg and leave us all in peace. And I wish she’d take Miss Benckendorff with her, and probably the gentleman who’s going to be with them today, for he’s bound to be Russian too, and equally as odious!”

* * *

But the countess’s gentleman guest certainly wasn’t Russian, he was very English, and he had just taken his leave of Lord Edward Longhurst and was riding back through Mayfair to his magnificent town house in Grosvenor Square. There he would change before driving to Harley Street to join the countess and her cousin Nadia. In two and a half hours’ time he would come face to face at last with Leonie, just as he had planned to do from the very outset.

Dorothea Lieven usually made a point of arriving late for appointments, but today she was early. The carriage which was to convey her and her two companions to tea at the seminary left the embassy in Harley Street at half-past three precisely. It was Count Lieven’s carriage, and as befitted the czar’s representative at the Court of St. James’s, it was very grand indeed, with the imperial coat-of-arms emblazoned on its gleaming blue panels. Drawn by a matched team of four fine bays, it proceeded at a brisk pace along Oxford Street toward Tyburn and the northern end of Park Lane. The December sun was sinking in a blaze of crimson and gold beyond Hyde Park, and long, cold shadows were reaching over the frozen ground. Soon it would be dark again, and already the haze of mist and fog was beginning to gather beneath the trees.

Dorothea was twenty-eight years old and very tall and thin. She wore a small honey-colored fur hat and a similarly colored three-quarter-length pelisse, from beneath the hem of which spilled the delicate folds of her white muslin gown. Her little feet, of which she was very vain, were encased in neat ankle boots which were laced very fashionably at the back. In her arms she carried her pet pug dog, Baryshna, which had around its neck a Persian gold collar studded with turquoises. This collar had been a gift from the Empress Maria Feodorovna, and was therefore always on display, since it was necessary to remind the British of such a grand royal connection. Dorothea sat stiffly on the seat, glancing neither to the right nor to the left, but her clever black eyes missed nothing for all that, and she was aware of everyone she passed.

Next to her on the velvet seat was her cousin Miss Nadia Benckendorff, who at the age of twenty-one was possessed of a breathtaking golden beauty which was set off to the very best advantage by the wearing of white from head to toe. She had on a fur-trimmed pelisse, a bombazine gown, a fur hat and muff, and ankle boots, and all were the purest of whites. Her large green eyes were set in a heart-shaped face, and her lips were that rosebud shape which was all the rage. Her golden hair was cut short so that it curled prettily around her face, making her one of the loveliest creatures and turning many an admiring male head as the carriage swept past. Nadia’s looks and lofty connections might have been expected to have won her many suitable offers of marriage, but they had not. The truth was that she was virtually penniless and was completely dependent upon the charity of other branches of her family. It was not a situation which she liked or appreciated, and she had left St. Petersburg determined to find herself a wealthy British husband; and like Emmeline Hart twenty years earlier, she was not very particular about the means she used to achieve her aim. Today she was feeling confident that soon she would succeed, for she had set her scheming, ambitious cap at the young man sitting opposite her in the carriage. He had initially been cool and indifferent toward her, but during the last week he had undergone a gratifyingly promising change of heart, as his presence at this rather dull visit to the seminary bore excellent witness. She looked across at him and smiled; it was a slow sensuous smile which assured him of so very much if things continued in the present vein. He returned the smile.

The carriage at last drew up at the curb outside the seminary. The gentleman alighted, pausing for the briefest of moments to look up at the balconied window of the principal bedchamber on the second floor. His glance took in the sturdy fig tree growing so conveniently next to it. He smiled a little to himself and then turned gallantly to assist Dorothea and Nadia to step down from the carriage.

The visitors’ unexpected promptness caught Leonie unawares, and Katy was still putting the final touches to her hair as the carriage drew up outside. With a gasp she looked a last time at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if the light blue dimity gown and pearl necklace and earrings were right for the occasion. Katy handed her her shawl and she hurried out of the room, forgetting her reticule, which the maid hastily picked up and brought quickly after her. Leonie had descended the stairs as far as the half-landing, but there she came to a startled halt, drawing swiftly back out of view of those in the vestibule below. Katy hurried down to her and Leonie immediately put a warning finger to her lips before pointing down. The maid looked over the edge of the banisters and her breath caught as she immediately recognized the tall, handsome gentleman standing with Dorothea and Nadia.

At that moment Miss Hart bustled from the visitors’ room at the rear of the house. She was all smiles and civility, her dull green taffeta skirts rustling, her best biggin trembling with ribboned bows. “Ah, Countess, Miss Benckendorff, how delighted I am to welcome you once more.” She sank into a curtsy and then rose, looking inquiringly at the gentleman, whom she did not know.

Dorothea immediately effected the necessary introduction. Her voice was hard and dry, and had a heavy French accent, for French was the language of the court at St. Petersburg. “Miss Hart, may I present you to his grace the Duke of Thornbury.”

“Your grace.” Miss Hart dutifully curtsied again.

Leonie was astonished to learn the identity of her admirer, for Rupert Allingham, fourth Duke of Thornbury, was one of the most eligible and sought-after gentlemen in the realm!

Down in the vestibule, Miss Hart was attending assiduously to her duties as hostess. Still all smiles and affability, she murmured that they would all be much more comfortable in the visitors’ room, and she led the way in that direction, followed by Dorothea, the plump pug still clasped in her arms.

Rupert was about to go with them, when suddenly Nadia put a hand softly on his arm. “A moment, milord.” Her voice was husky and like Dorothea’s had a strong French accent.

He was reluctant to linger. “I hardly think this is the time—”

“Please, milord,” she persisted, “for there may not be another opportunity to speak alone with you today.” She moved perceptibly closer to him. Her hand was still on his arm, and her green eyes were dark and lustrous. “I only want to beg you not to go to Althorp for Christmas, but to stay in London.”

“I’ve already accepted the invitation.”

“Make an excuse. Do it for me.”

He smiled a little. “For you? My dear Nadia. I hardly see the point, since you will be in Streatham Park and therefore out of town as well.”

“I could stay on at the embassy.”

“And disappoint your cousin? No, we will leave our plans as they stand. Now, then, let us rejoin the others before they wonder what mischief we’re up to.”

She pouted a little, but then her hand dropped from his arm and she smiled. “I won’t give up, milord. I shall keep on until you change your mind.”