A Marriageable Miss (15 page)

All at once, she stiffened and paled and, as a sudden trickle of apprehension ran through her veins, she tried desperately to steady herself but, unable to control her trembling limbs, she felt herself falling and, had not Richard thrust out his arms to catch hold of her, she would have slid to the floor.

The mishap having obliged the line of ladies in Helena’s wake to slow their progress, the resulting confusion quickly brought the dance to a chaotic finish upon which, following a hurried signal from the Master of Ceremonies, the musicians were obliged to bring the tune to a somewhat haphazard end.

‘Miss Wheatley?’ Although the deep concern in Richard’s voice was apparent, Helena, now totally mesmerised by the expression of unconcealed venom on the face of the man who had been the cause of her sudden apprehension, was finding it almost impossible to tear her eyes away from his. For her sneering tormentor was none other than the despicable Viscount Barrington—the man from whom she had fled the Vauxhall Gardens in disgust and the very last man she might have expected to encounter in such hallowed surroundings!

‘Helena! Please!’

The returning colour in Helena’s previously deathly white cheeks having encouraged the highly concerned Richard to suppose that she was now on the road to recovery, he resorted to giving her a little shake. ‘Take deep breaths,’ he urged as, placing his arm around her shoulders, he endeavoured to persuade her to move away from the eyes of the curious onlookers. ‘Try to make the effort, dear girl. I must get you back to your seat.’

As his words gradually penetrated her dazed mind, Helena blinked and, with considerable effort, forced herself to drag her gaze away from Barrington’s still mocking, contempt-filled countenance. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she admonished herself crossly, telling herself that it had merely been the
shock of seeing the man standing there with that dreadful expression on his face that had been the cause of her momentary agitation. There had been absolutely no need for her to have behaved in such a ridiculous manner. After all, no matter how contemptible he might be, the viscount was hardly likely to go so far as to create an ugly scene in this holy of holies!

But then, as Markfield’s persistent tug again claimed her attention, she suddenly became aware that all the other couples were making their way off the dance floor, leaving the earl and herself the focus of everyone’s attention.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ she stammered, her cheeks now flushed with embarrassment. ‘I do beg your pardon, my lord—I fear that I must have been overcome by the heat!’

‘Then we must get you back to your seat at once,’ grated the earl as, finally allowing himself to breathe once more, he placed his hand on her back and gently but firmly propelled her in the direction of her seat. ‘And then I need to go and procure you some sort of a cooling drink.’

Although both his words and tone were equally solicitous, Helena, having caught sight of his rather grim expression, could not help feeling that he must be thoroughly mortified at her dismal lack of conduct—and at such a highly esteemed venue, too! And just as they were beginning to get on so well again, she thought miserably, as she allowed him to lead her across the floor and settle her back into her seat where, unable to meet his eyes, she found herself incapable of offering him more than a slightly muffled, ‘You are very kind, my lord.’

His worried frown still in place, the earl, with a hurried bow, made off in the direction of the refreshment room.

No sooner had he disappeared from view than Lady Isobel, her face wreathed in satisfaction, leaned over and whispered into Helena’s ear. ‘Very neatly done, my dear, I could hardly have planned it better myself—if that doesn’t get all their tongues wagging, I’m sure I don’t know what will!’

Choking back her indignation at the suggestion that she had actually engineered the whole dismal affair in order to advance
the dowager’s scheme, Helena found herself incapable of drumming up a suitable reply. Instead, she merely inclined her head and, despite the fact that she was still feeling decidedly unnerved by the viscount’s unexpected appearance, she lost no time in perusing the faces of the groups of people who were milling about the room, waiting for Mr Willis to announce the resumption of the dancing. Of the dreaded Barrington, however, there was no sign. Thinking it unlikely that he had already left the premises, she could only conclude that he must have taken himself off to one of the assembly hall’s several card rooms. She crossed her fingers in the fervent wish that he would find himself sufficiently entertained to remain there and not suddenly decide to put in another appearance and attempt to engage her in conversation or even—she suppressed a shudder—request that she dance with him! Quite apart from the fact that she could not bear to be in his company, she had the feeling that to refuse such an offer in this sanctuary of sanctuaries was likely to be looked upon as the height of bad manners and, since she had already blotted her social copybook once this evening, she felt disinclined to repeat the experience!

Discreetly plying her fan, she peeped sideways at the countess and, observing that she was now deep in conversation with one of her cronies, she then turned her head in her cousin’s direction, only to find Lottie’s soft brown eyes regarding her with some anxiety.

‘Whatever happened, Nell?’ came her urgent enquiry. ‘One minute you were dancing and the next thing I knew was that everything had ground to a halt and everyone seemed to be staring in your direction! You haven’t crossed swords with his lordship again, have you?’

‘Certainly not, dearest. I was slightly overcome by the heat, that is all,’ returned Helena, feigning nonchalance, for she could see no point in adding to her cousin’s already nervous state by informing her of Barrington’s presence. Then, summoning up a smile, she added, ‘Lord Markfield has very kindly gone off in search of some refreshments for us.’

Lottie nodded, but remained unconvinced. Having caught sight
of Markfield’s decidedly forbidding expression, as he had passed by her on his way to the refreshment room, she wondered whether it might not be just as well to warn her cousin that, in her opinion, she could well be about to find herself at the receiving end of the earl’s disapprobation! Casting a hurried glance about her to ensure that the earl was not within earshot of her remarks, she was about to whisper her misgivings into Helena’s ear, when her attention was suddenly diverted by the sight of Dr Redfern and his sister making their way across the room towards them. Her face lighting up with delight, she at once thrust aside any qualms she might have had regarding Markfield’s possible irritation and, nudging her cousin’s arm, exclaimed, ‘Oh, do look who’s coming to join us, Nell! Now we can be comfortable again!’

Pasting a welcoming smile on her face, Helena could not help feeling that, until she was certain that she discovered what lay behind his sister’s somewhat baffling allusion, being comfortable in Redfern’s presence was likely to prove rather difficult, insofar as she was concerned. Stifling the sigh that threatened, she did her utmost to focus her attention on welcoming the newcomers and set about presenting them to the countess. As if it were not sufficiently taxing to be beset by the constant feeling that Barrington was lurking somewhere close by, she found herself thinking, the idea of being obliged to fend off unwanted advances from the family physician was enough to make her feel like grinding her teeth in despair!

Some time later, however, although his promise of acquiring cooling drinks for them had eventually been fulfilled by the arrival of a waiter bearing a tray of glasses, of the earl himself there was still no sign. Her ladyship had taken to muttering tetchy imprecations under her breath and Helena who, having spent most of the time tormenting herself as to the reasons behind his prolonged absence, now held herself entirely responsible for his failure to return. Having done her best to dismiss the highly embarrassing incident on the dance floor from her mind, she was unable to fully recall the exact train of events that had followed her initial shock
at seeing Barrington. She remembered Markfield urging her to pull herself together, along with his helping her back to her seat, considerations for which she had felt entirely grateful at the time, although she was bound to admit that his subsequent haste to remove himself from her presence had left her in little doubt as to his feelings over the incident. Biting back the tears that threatened, she could only suppose that his lordship, disinclined to subject himself to any further public discredit at her hands, had elected to steer well clear of her for the duration! Just how much worse could this dreadful evening possibly get, she wondered forlornly as, conjuring up a counterfeit smile, she rose to her feet to allow Charles Standish to escort her, for the second time in Markfield’s absence, out on to the dance floor.

‘Can’t think what can be keeping Richard,’ he said, looking towards the doorway with a puzzled frown. ‘It’s not like him to be so neglectful of his duties. Grandmama is not at all happy about it, I can tell you!’

Reflecting that it was unlikely that her ladyship could be feeling as wretched as she herself did at this moment, Helena merely shook her head and tried to focus her attention on the complicated movements of the cotillion.

A
lthough Helena was unaware of it, Richard’s feelings of despair were running very much in parallel with her own. With the recurring image of her wide-eyed, ashen-faced expression occupying his brain, his abiding aim was to get hold of a reviving drink and get back to her as quickly as possible. As to what had been the cause of her sudden attack of giddiness, he was unable to fathom for, although she had claimed to have been overcome by the heat, it had been impossible for him to miss the unmistakable look of panic in her eyes. Upon reflection, it occurred to him that perhaps his reference to her dead brother had been responsible although, despite his admittedly short acquaintance with her, Helena had hardly struck him as being the kind of female who indulged in the sort of vapourish fits for which his Aunt Adelaide was renowned! Shaking his head, he could only hope that, whatever the reason for the puzzling vertigo, a cooling drink would quickly restore her to her former doughty self.

Heading straight for the refreshment room, he had all but reached his goal when, to his consternation, he found himself being set upon by a noisy, laughing group of his ex-army comrades, newly arrived from the Continent that very day. At any other time and under any other circumstance, he would, of course, have been more than happy to see his old friends and catch up on
their news. But, Helena’s welfare having occupied his whole attention since the moment he had left her side, he became desperate to have done with the long drawn-out procedure of over-zealous backslapping, accompanied by loud and raucous laughter, that the unexpected reunion seemed set to involve.

Unfortunately, until he had gone through the pantomime of greeting each of the half-dozen individuals by name and given them his promise that he would meet up with them on some unspecified date in the near future, the men refused to allow him to abandon their company, each of them insisting on sharing his various experiences with him and all of them demanding to have his recent ennoblement explained to them in the fullest detail. Only when he was finally able to excuse himself was he able to set about fulfilling his earlier undertaking of having drinks delivered to his grandmother’s party. That task accomplished, he was making his way back towards the doorway when, without warning, he found himself face to face with none other than the iniquitous Viscount Barrington!

‘Barrington,’ he acknowledged with a cursory nod and, since he had no wish to converse further with the notorious scoundrel, he stepped briskly to one side, only to discover that the viscount who, having grinningly aped his action, appeared set on impeding his further progress.

‘A word, if you have a mind, your
lordship
!’ drawled Barrington, laying particular emphasis on the term denoting Markfield’s recent elevation to the peerage.

‘I’d just as soon not be seen in your company, if it’s all the same to you,’ grunted Richard, impatiently standing his ground as he waited for the other man to move out of his way.

A pained expression appeared on the viscount’s face. ‘Oh, come now, sir!’ he replied, in protest. ‘That’s no way to greet such a close friend of dear Simon, surely? I was merely wishing to—ah—commiserate with you on your cousin’s unfortunate passing.’ These words having elicited no response, he frowned then, lowering his voice, added somewhat derisively, ‘But, perhaps it would be more in keeping if I were to congratulate you on your
present
success—such a tasty little armful and a fortune to boot! Do share your secret, old man!’

Although Richard managed to control the violent surge of anger that Barrington’s scabrous references had brought about, he was quite unable to prevent the involuntary curling of his fists, as the probable cause of Helena’s unusual agitation suddenly came to him. Fixing the viscount with a look of pure disdain, he ground out, ‘Whilst I’m bound to admit that wiping the fatuous grin off your face would afford me the greatest satisfaction, Barrington, I fear that this is hardly the place in which to indulge in such pleasantries. Unless you are prepared to meet me elsewhere, I must request that you either move aside at once or suffer the consequences!’

For the briefest of moments, the viscount, his eyes glittering with unconcealed rage, seemed to toy with the idea of accepting Markfield’s challenge but then, as reality dawned—along with a sudden recollection of the rumours he had heard regarding the earl’s prowess with both sword and pistol—his cheeks reddened and, with obvious reluctance, he stepped slowly to one side.

Although Richard was well aware that he would have had no difficulty in carrying out his threat, he was rather relieved that he had not been obliged to do so since, as he had often heard his father remark, there was little satisfaction to be gained from thrashing a fellow who was well below one’s own weight. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling somewhat concerned that Barrington—whose usual haunts, he had been given to understand, were inclined to be of a rather less salubrious variety than this present venue—should have chosen tonight, of all nights, to put in an appearance at the assembly rooms. Even more disturbing was the thought that Helena had already caught sight of her despised ex-suitor, any recurrence of which the earl was determined to prevent at whatever cost.

Tossing a contemptuous glance in the other man’s direction as he passed him, he said, ‘Let me advise your lordship to quit the building while you still have all your faculties intact. I’m inclined to think that the Fancy Club or Dot Finnegan’s place would be rather more to your taste than this present venue!’

Although Barrington merely glowered at him in reply, Richard was sufficiently confident of his own powers of persuasion to suppose that the viscount would heed his warning and make himself scarce and, since his mind was rather more occupied with his concern about Helena’s immediate well being, he quickly dismissed the matter from his mind. A hurried glance at a nearby wall-clock, however, alerted him to the length of time that he had been absent and he was aware of a slight pang of unease as he hurried back into the ballroom.

‘Where on earth have you been all this time, Richard?’ hissed Lady Isobel, eyeing him balefully, the moment he got within earshot of her seat. ‘What is the point of me dragging Helena along to all these functions if you are going to disappear for hours on end?’

‘My apologies, ma’am,’ returned the earl somewhat abstractedly, his attention being more closely concerned with the worrying discovery that both seats beside the countess were now unoccupied. ‘I must assure you that my absence was entirely unavoidable—where are our guests?’

‘If you care to use your eyes, you will see that both your supposed intended and her cousin are out on the floor!’ her ladyship retorted crossly. ‘Which is where I had supposed you would be—having gone to all that trouble to acquire the blessed vouchers! Thank heavens I had the foresight to persuade Charles to come along to make up the numbers!’

Heaving a sigh of relief as, for one awful moment, it had crossed his mind that Helena’s not being there might well have had something to do with Barrington’s unexpected appearance, Richard turned his attention towards the dance floor and ran his eyes across the groups of dancers presently engaged in a lively quadrille. He was able to spot his cousin almost immediately—Standish men having always stood a good head above the rest of the crowd. To his consternation, however, he soon realised that the young woman whose hand Charles was clasping was not Helena, but her cousin Lottie Daniels!

Although his hurried scrutiny of the other dancers very soon
revealed Helena’s whereabouts, the discovery that she was being partnered by none other than Thomas Redfern did nothing to assuage his mounting irritation.

‘We must hope that the good doctor has not stolen a march on you!’ observed his grandmother sourly, as she registered his forbidding expression. ‘Having already twice done his duty by her, Charles could hardly petition Helena for a third time, now could he? In fact, we may count ourselves fortunate that Redfern and his sister elected to join our party, since it transpires that they are both sufficiently well enough acquainted with several of the gentlemen present to furnish us with the necessary introductions. Indeed, had it not been for their timely intervention, I fear we would have made a very poor showing indeed!’

The somewhat disconcerting discovery that Helena had, apparently, recovered sufficiently from her earlier setback to take the floor with not just one, but several different partners, during his absence was more than enough to quell Richard’s inclination to parry his grandmother’s scathing comments, his feeling of righteous indignation being such that he was temporarily deprived of speech.

Having expected some sort of riposte to her diatribe and, to her surprise, receiving none, the countess eyed her tight-lipped grandson curiously for a moment or two, before continuing, albeit in a somewhat less reproving tone of voice. ‘Be that as it may, Richard, it is highly unlikely that your protracted non-attendance will have escaped the notice of our ever-vigilant committee. It is clear that you are going to have to make some sort of a push to retrieve the situation, for I am sure that you need no reminders as to our true motives for being here.’

Richard, striving to maintain some semblance of control, assured the countess that he would do his best and, having observed that the dance was about to reach its close, stood away to allow his cousin and the doctor to return their flushed and laughing partners to their seats. They were soon joined by an equally animated Jenny Redfern, in the company of the most recent of her conquests, the Honourable Philip Tindale, younger son of the Earl of Smethwyck.

‘Tindale, Redfern,’ returned the earl, with a brief nod in acknowledgement of the other men’s greetings, his thoughts being more directly concerned with the problem of how to get Helena on her own, in order that he might apologise for his lengthy absence but, rather more to the point, to try to ascertain whether her earlier spell of faintness had, as he suspected, come about as a result of her having spotted Barrington in the crowd.

‘Perhaps you would care to take a turn about the room, Miss Wheatley?’ he said, stepping forwards and reaching out his hand to her.

Having been expecting him to steer well clear of her, lest she should cause him any more embarrassment, Helena was too taken aback to utter more than a shaky, ‘Yes, of course, my lord.’

‘I really must apologise for leaving you in the lurch like that,’ he began, as they started to make their way around the ballroom. ‘I am afraid I was set upon by a bunch of my fellow officers and quite unable to make my escape.’

Although she felt a certain amount of relief at hearing these words, Helena could not help wondering what else had kept him away since, along with countless other onlookers, she was well aware that the ‘bunch of fellow officers’ of whom he had spoken had been taken to task by Mr Willis for their rather disorderly entrance into the ballroom well before Markfield had eventually chosen to put in an appearance.

‘Please do not concern yourself on my account, my lord,’ she replied. ‘My cousin and I were amply entertained during your absence.’

Having been privy to the obvious pleasure she had exhibited when dancing with Redfern, Richard was obliged to bite back the sarcastic retort that had almost sprung to his lips and, whilst he ached to know whether the doctor’s role in her life was anything more than just that of family physician, he knew that to pose such a question was completely out of order. That Helena was still at odds with him was blatantly obvious and, unless he could find some way of getting her to view him in a more favourable light, it was becoming rapidly apparent that
their rather tentative arrangement would soon be on the verge of collapse.

Providentially, an announcement from the Master of Ceremonies that the final dance before the supper bell was to be the second waltz of the evening, soon furnished him with what he hoped might be a possible solution to that particular problem.

Disengaging her hand from his arm, he swung her round to face him.

‘Our dance, I believe, Miss Wheatley,’ he said, the hint of a smile lurking on his lips.

Stepping back in astonishment, Helena shook her head, protesting, ‘But, this is a waltz, my lord and, as you are no doubt aware, I have not yet had the opportunity to learn the steps!’

‘Oh, come now, Miss Wheatley’ he cajoled softly. ‘What has become of all that doughty resolution you exhibited earlier? It’s really very simple, I promise you.’

Thoroughly disconcerted by the challenging gleam in his eyes, Helena hesitated. Having been obliged to decline both Tindale’s and Redfern’s requests to partner them in the highly acclaimed dance some time earlier, she had been given ample opportunity to study the dancers’ movements at some length and had come to the conclusion waltzing did, indeed, look absurdly simple. Added to which, the mere idea of Markfield holding her in such a close manner as the dance seemed to require was extremely tempting. Nevertheless, disinclined to make yet another foolish exhibition of herself, she reluctantly stood her ground.

But then, as Jenny, skipped past her, crying, ‘Oh, you simply must give this a try, Helena!’ before practically throwing herself into Tindale’s outstretched arms, she felt herself weakening.

The earl, observing her momentary hesitation, quickly seized the opportunity and clasped her by both hands. Before she had had time to collect her wits, she found herself being steered in the direction of the dance floor with Richard resolutely ignoring her attempts to free herself from his hold.

‘Really, my lord!’ she gasped, looking up at him in dismay. ‘You cannot mean to force me into this!’

‘Just relax and leave the rest to me,’ he said reassuringly as, his eyes smiling down into hers, he placed his hand at her waist, causing sudden ripples of excitement to surge up and down her body. ‘All you have to do is surrender yourself to the beat of the music—I won’t let you down, I promise you. Now, left hand on my shoulder and—off we go!’