A Change of Fortune (6 page)

She flushed a little. “She’s only a child, Sir Guy.”

“Aye, and what a child,” he replied with some feeling. “You know nothing about my niece. Miss Conyngham, and I wonder if perhaps you instinctively sympathize with her because she has set herself against Imogen. Come now, don’t look so astonished, for I know full well that you and Imogen cordially loathe each other.” He gave a faint smile. “I also perceive that you feel more or less the same way toward me.”

Her cheeks were still hot. “I wouldn’t presume to like or dislike you, Sir Guy.”

“Looking at you at this moment, Miss Conyngham, I’d say that you are the sort of young lady who would indeed presume, if she felt strongly enough about it. One way or another, you’ve left me in little doubt as to your opinion of me, and since you’ve allowed me to become aware of that opinion, I can only wonder if the grooming provided by this establishment is as completely efficient as it might be.” His eyes were cool as he held her gaze. “I know that you are soon to be launched upon society. I can only trust the
monde
deals summarily with you. You need taking down a peg or two, Miss Leonie Conyngham, and if you cross my path again at some future date, you may be sure that I will be quite ready to do just that. Good day to you.” Picking up his hat, gloves, and riding crop, he left. A breath of freezing air swept over her as he slammed the door behind him.

Stunned, she remained where she was. Her face felt as if it was on fire and her heart was thundering in her breast. She had never been spoken to like that before, which was bad enough, but to think that she had suffered such humiliation at the hands of so uncivil and unpleasant a man! After all of which he was so patently guilty, he had had the gall to rudely criticize her! Oh, how she wished she’d told him
exactly
what she thought of him, and his loathsome bride-to-be, to say nothing of their joint unkindness to a mere child! But she had held her tongue, and so allowed him the privilege of the last word. She quivered from head to toe with anger and frustration, and at that moment she heard the door of the visitors’ room opening. The thought of encountering Miss Hart’s guests at this particular moment was too much, and she quickly gathered her skirts and hurried into the deserted school wing.

She took refuge in the music room, intending to remain safely out of sight until the visitors had departed, but as she opened the door something brushed past her legs and she gave an involuntary cry, but it was only Mrs. Durham’s cat, which had evidently been shut in when she had been conducting Guy de Lacey over the premises. Quietly she closed the door behind her, and the icy darkness of the music room seemed to fold over her. Everything was so very quiet that she could almost hear her own heartbeats, but then gradually she became aware of footsteps approaching. She held her breath as she saw the swaying light of candles shining beneath the door. The footsteps halted, and her heart almost stopped as the door was suddenly flung open and she saw the silhouette of a man, his identity at first impossible to see because of the brightness of the candelabrum he held.

“Miss Conyngham? Are you all right?”

It was Rupert. Her heart sank in dismay then, and she stepped involuntarily back. “Sir?”

He came in and set the candelabrum down upon a small table. “I heard you cry out. Are you all right?”

“Perfectly. The cook’s cat startled me.”

He glanced around. “I’m hardly surprised if you are given to wandering around in the dark.”

She flushed, but he could not see that in the candlelight. “I’m not wandering around, as you put it, sir, I merely came to see if I had left everything in order after conducting Sir Guy around.”

He gave a short laugh. “Did you indeed? And how, pray, did you expect to see anything without a light? It’s dark, Miss Conyngham, or hadn’t you noticed? Come now, admit that you crept in here to avoid me.”

“If that was my intention, sir, I appear to have been singularly unsuccessful.”

He slowly pushed the door to, but did not close it completely. “Just as I,” he said softly, “appear to have been singularly unsuccessful in my efforts to know you better.”

“I dislike obviousness, sir.”

“Then I ask you to forgive me; obviousness is the last thing of which I wish to be accused. Please, Miss Conyngham, can we not begin again? I wish to be your friend, but I seem to have got off on the proverbial wrong foot.”

“You haven’t got off on any foot at all, sir,” she said coldly. “I don’t like you and I will never trust you. Maybe you aren’t used to having your advances spurned, maybe your looks, wealth, and title have hitherto always assured you of success, but you will never succeed with me.”

“I don’t give up easily, Leonie. I shall have you, I promise you that.”

She stared at him, her eyes huge with disbelief. “How dare you,” she whispered. “How dare you say such a thing to me!”

“I dare because it is the truth.” He came closer suddenly, taking her by the arms. “I want you, Leonie Conyngham, I wanted you from the very first moment I saw you. You’re right, I’m not used to having my advances spurned, and I don’t intend to become used to it. You aren’t going to be an exception, Leonie, because you’re going to surrender to me just as all the others have in the past.”

She wrenched herself away from him, at once frightened and furious. “Never!” she breathed. “Never!”

He smiled, watching as she hurried to the door. “We shall see,” he murmured, “we shall see.”

She heard him, but she didn’t look back. As she emerged thankfully into the passage, she saw something white moving quickly out of sight into the vestibule. It was Nadia. In that split second Leonie realized that the countess’s jealous cousin had been listening at the door and had probably overheard everything that was said. Nadia already loathed her; now that loathing had probably spilled over into a bitter hatred.

* * *

Leonie was relieved when it was time at last to retire to her bed, for this had been a day she wished to forget. She tried to relax before putting out the candle by reading more of
The Bride of Abydos
, but she simply couldn’t concentrate on it. Every time she tried to read, she kept hearing Guy de Lacey’s scornful voice promising to take her down a peg or two when next she was unfortunate enough to cross his path. She didn’t think at all about Rupert, Duke of Thornbury, it was as if he didn’t exist anymore, but she couldn’t put arrogant, odious Sir Guy de Lacey out of her thoughts.

She heard a noise at the window, a scratching sound as if something was trying to get in. Then she heard a mewing. Mrs. Durham’s cat! With a sigh she slipped from the bed and went to the window, drawing back the curtains and folding aside the cumbersome shutters. The cold seemed to breathe over her as she opened the window, and the bitter night air swept relentlessly into the room, making her breath catch. She looked quickly for the cat.

“Puss? Puss, where are you?” Surely the wretched creature hadn’t decided to go away again!

“Well,” said a masculine voice from very close at her side, “that’s the first time I’ve been called that.” It was Rupert; she could just make him out as he leaned back against the wrought-iron balustrade of the balcony. He had climbed up the fig tree.

With a cry she stepped back into the room and began to close the window, but he moved too quickly and was in the room before she could stop him. The candlelight gleamed in his hazel eyes as he closed the window behind him and drew the curtains across. “That’s better,” he said softly. “Now we can be much more comfortable.”

“Get out,” she breathed. She was very frightened, but she tried desperately not to show it.

“Oh, come now, don’t be disagreeable,” he murmured, flinging his top hat onto the dressing table. “I’ve only just arrived, and already you try to send me away.”

“You are here without invitation, sir.”

“If I’d waited to be invited, I’d have had a very long wait, wouldn’t I?” he said reasonably. His eyes swept warmly over her, taking in her loosely brushed hair and the way the soft folds of her nightgown outlined her figure. “You’re very lovely, too lovely for my peace of mind.”

“Please leave,” she said. “If you leave now I will say nothing of this.”

“I’ll leave when I’ve persuaded you that I’m really a very pleasant fellow.”

“Pleasant? Is that what you call this?”

He came closer then, reaching out suddenly to seize her hand and drag her into his arms. Her lips parted to scream, but he put a rough hand over her mouth. “Now, now,” he said softly, “that won’t do at all. Be sensible, admit that to struggle will avail you nothing, but that to surrender, to meet me halfway, would mean so much pleasure.”

She struggled to get away from him, but he held her too tightly. Then, miraculously, she heard someone at the door. It was Katy. He heard too, and for a moment was sufficiently distracted to allow Leonie the chance of dragging herself from his grasp.

“Katy!” she cried. “Katy, come in!”

The door opened and the startled maid looked in, her eyes widening as she saw the scene within.

Rupert straightened, giving a short laugh, “if you know what’s good for you, girl, you’ll leave,” he said to the maid.

Katy stared at him then at Leonie. “Miss Leonie?”

“Stay, Katy. But you, sir—” Leonie turned toward him “—you can leave immediately.”

He saw that for the moment the cards were stacked against him. He smiled, picking up his hat. “Very well, if that’s the way you wish it. But remember this: if you say anything about what has happened, it will simply be your word against mine. Think of your reputation, Leonie—it will be sullied forever, and you’re not even out yet.”

“Get out of here,” she whispered contemptuously, “and don’t ever come near me again.”

He met her angry gaze. “I still want you, Leonie. I don’t think you realize how much. I’m away at Althorp over Christmas, but when I return, I promise that you’ll hear from me again.” He turned then and slipped out onto the balcony again.

Leonie hurried to the window, watching as he climbed over onto the fig tree. As he disappeared from sight, she emerged nervously onto the balcony. She had to see that he left; she wouldn’t feel entirely safe until then. The cold didn’t seem to touch her this time as she leaned over the balcony to watch him climb down to the frozen ground below.

The fog swirled clammily in the darkness, veiling the park across the street. There was ice on the wrought-iron rail beneath her hands as she watched him walk quickly away from the seminary toward the corner of Curzon Street. It was then that she realized he hadn’t come alone, for another man was waiting with two horses by a streetlamp. The fog seemed to thin for a moment and she saw that the second man was a gentleman, clad in a costly fur-trimmed cloak and a top hat. As she stared at him, he suddenly looked up directly at her. It was Edward Longhurst.

She drew back quickly then, stepping into her room once more and closing the window and shutters firmly behind her.

“Are you all right, Miss Leonie?”

She turned quickly as Katy spoke. “Yes,” she said quietly, “yes, I’m all right, but I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come when you did.” She drew the curtains and went to sit on the bed. “I heard a noise on the balcony and thought it was Mrs. Durham’s cat. I made it so easy for him, he just had to walk in.”

“You weren’t to know,” said the maid comfortingly.

Leonie was silent for a moment. “He was right, you know. I would be taking a dreadful risk if I said anything about this.”

“That’s the way of it, isn’t it?” replied the maid with a sigh. “Men can do things like this and be thought of as fine lusty fellows. Women must always think of their reputations. It isn’t fair.”

Leonie nodded, toying with the lace on the cuff of her nightgown. She looked up suddenly. “Why did you come?”

Katy smiled a little. “Mrs. Durham sent me to see if you wanted a glass of hot milk before you went to sleep.”

Leonie couldn’t help giving a wry laugh. “I think I shall be eternally grateful to her.”

“Would you like some?”

“Yes, I think I would.”

‘I’ll go and tell her.” Katy went to the door and paused. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes.”

As the maid hurried out, Leonie climbed back into the bed. She glanced a little nervously at the window. Had she fastened everything properly? Now that Katy had gone, the room seemed so very quiet…. She took a deep breath to steady herself. She had to push it all from her mind and think of something cheering instead. Like her father’s return and the wonderful new life that lay ahead.

On the evening of the twenty-third of December, there was a grand ball at the Russian embassy. The weather was as cold and inhospitable as ever, and the freezing fog was, if anything, even more dense than before. Every vehicle on the streets of London had to be preceded by a man carrying a lighted flambeau, and the smoke from these, and from thousands of chimneys, added to the murk. It was being said that if the cold continued for much longer, then the Thames would freeze over and there would be another frost fair on the ice, just as had happened occasionally in the past. The cold seemed to seep into everything, and even the royal family was not exempt from its attentions. Princess Charlotte, the Regent’s daughter, had been heard complaining that her rooms at Windsor Castle were so cold that in spite of fires, a bowl of water had completely frozen over.

The weather, harsh as it was, did not deter the many guests attending the ball, and as eight o’clock approached, Harley Street was a crush of carriages. The embassy was ablaze with lights, but the brilliance was so obscured by the fog that little could be seen more than a few yards away. The smell of smoke hung heavily in the brittle air, and the sound of music drifted through the night.

Inside, the light from hundreds of candles made everything dazzling and bright. There were flowers and Christmas leaves everywhere. The green houses at Streatham Park had provided a colorful profusion of chrysanthemums, primulas, and camellias, as well as the exotic plants which filled every embrasure. Garlands of holly and ivy were draped around paintings, columns, balustrades, and statues, and golden baskets of mistletoe were suspended from the ceilings between the immense crystal chandeliers.