Dawn in My Heart (12 page)

“Yes.”

“Did you come off a ship from Africa?” she asked in a low tone.

He shook his head. “My mother did. I was born on de island. My father was white…like you,” he added deliberately, curious to see her reaction. The maid was a pretty thing, with pale, pink-tinged cheeks and reddish hair beneath her mobcap.

Her eyes widened at the comparison. “Never!”

“Oh, yes. He was her master.”

Her eyes grew even larger. They were a pale blue. “That's wicked!”

“But it be de truth.”

She nodded grimly. “It happens here, too, among the gentry and the servants.”

“But there be some good masters. Lord Skylar is one such. He saw me in de cane fields one day and later won me from my owner in a throw of de dice.” He grinned. “I was woken out of a deep sleep and told to get my things and go with dis white mon.”

“My, my,” she said in amazement. “And now here you are all the way in England.”

The two smiled at each other, and Nigel felt the first real connection to another human being beside Lord Skylar since his arrival in England. “Yes, here I be in a new land, among new people.”

Her smile disappeared. “None of us downstairs knew what to think about you. Mr. Scott, Lord Caulfield's secretary, filled us with scary tales of how you threatened him.”

He had forgotten his encounter with the scrawny, unpleasant man. “I needed his cooperation, and he didn't seem at all willing.”

“Well, you've made an enemy, I can tell you that much.”

Nigel rubbed his chin. “I wonder if he ever did as I asked.”

“What did you want with him?”

“To cancel Lord Skylar's engagements.”

She gave a grim smile. “From Mr. Scott's tone, I would reckon he didn't do anything you asked of him. This place needs airing,” she said decisively, setting down her bundle by the door and heading to a window.

She drew back the curtains and pushed the window open.

He went to the other window. “I can get dis one.”

“Good. I shall fetch some clean linen and return immediately.”

“I hope you tell those below stairs that I haven't done de master no harm.” At that moment Lord Skylar called him
from the other room. “You can even say you heard him speak.”

She nodded. “I shall indeed. But I hope they can all soon see for themselves.”

“He'll be getting up and dressed today, so I am sure you will all see him.”

Already the room began to have a feel of life and not death. Nigel hoped things might truly take a turn for the better this time, but he knew it would take more than a good cleaning.

 

Though he still felt weak, Tertius was determined to let on to no one. He'd organized this party to Vauxhall Gardens for the masquerade and he was going to see it through to the end.

His party consisted of Delaney and two other friends from the old days. Gillian and Templeton and a couple of friends of Gillian's to even out the numbers. He'd even thought to include his father's secretary to escort Miss Templeton.

He watched the two now strolling along the tree-lined promenade. Seeing was a little difficult with only one eye. The other was covered with an eye patch. Coming from the West Indies, he thought it appropriate to don a pirate's costume to the Gardens.

He glanced at Gillian beside him. She was dressed in a medieval gown with conical headdress and trailing veil. He noticed the absence of the necklace on her graceful, low-cut neckline.

“Did you receive the gift I sent you?” he couldn't help asking when she said nothing about it.

“The necklace and earrings? Yes, I received them.”

“Did they not find favor with you?”

“Oh, they were pretty enough,” she said in a careless tone. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Don't mention it,” he answered mildly.

They were soon separated from the other couples. Skylar took Gillian to the Rural Downs to view the river. From there they toured the grottos and waterfalls and man-made caves. Sky noted that for someone who had never been to Vauxhall, Gillian was not showing her normal enthusiasm. She seemed unusually quiet.

“How is the dog?” he asked at one point.

“Sophie?”

“Is that what you call her?”

“Yes. She is settling in nicely. Mother seems resigned to her presence in the house. I must next get her accustomed to my two cats. She's a very docile animal, though, so I believe I shall succeed, although they are not so friendly.”

“Your two cats don't inhabit the house?”

“Mother doesn't even know about them. They are in the mews, and I sneak them into the house every morning for a couple of hours.”

“Your menagerie can have free rein in our home when we're married.”

She turned away from him then, not even giving him a smile of thanks.

He observed her closely during the course of the evening. Something was wrong. At first he attributed it to pique at his disappearance of a few days, but now he believed it to be more deeply founded.

“Your mother informed you of the new date for our wedding?” he asked her, wondering if that might be the cause of her coolness toward him.

“Yes.”

“Have you any objections?” he asked, still trying to feel her out.

“Would it matter if I did?”

Her tone was cold. The news must not have set well with her. “It would matter to me, but as to my father or your mother, I don't believe they will relent.”

She turned to him. “And are you so powerless that you must do everything they say? Can't you stop it?”

“No, I'm not so powerless,” he said, stung despite himself at her contemptuous tone. He wished he could tell her the truth. It was more than his father's prohibition, however. Pride held him back. Pride and reticence toward describing his own weak condition. “Let us say that in this case there are compelling reasons for moving up the wedding date.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged. “I explained to you…I am five-and-thirty. Sometimes…” He hesitated. “Sometimes I think time is running out for me.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Sometimes I feel as if life has not even begun for me.”

He stared at her, wondering at the remark in one so young. “You know you don't have to marry me if you don't wish to. I can tell my father it's off for good. All he has to do is find me another young lady of the ton,” he ended dryly.

She did not respond for some minutes as they promenaded under the trees lit by thousands of little gaslights. It was a magical place. They should be strolling arm in arm as the many other couples around them were doing. Others had escaped down secluded alleyways and into the shadowy groves.

Finally she spoke in a voice so low he had to stoop to hear her. “I don't think it can be called off now. It has been published in the paper. The date has been set.”

The reply was far from satisfactory. “None of those reasons is sufficient if you truly don't want to be married to me. You must let me know soon what your decision is.”

She sighed but said nothing.

After a moment he said, “People will say we married in haste because you are in a family way. I suppose it doesn't matter what they say. You soon will be anyway.”

“Must you forever bring that up?” she retorted, quickening her pace and walking ahead of him.

What kind of wife and helpmate would Lady Gillian make him if she already seemed to view anything physical with such distaste?

They headed back to the center of the gardens toward the gilded bandstand where a group of fiddlers was playing. They spotted Templeton ahead of them, walking with Mr. Scott.

“I'm surprised you included Templeton in our party,” commented Gillian.

“I thought she needed an outing.”

“You even provided her with an escort,” she said in amusement.

Heartened at her first show of pleasure, he explained, “Scott is my father's secretary. A humorless sort. I thought he and Miss Templeton might cancel each other out. Either that or your companion can liven him up.”

Gillian laughed and Sky was encouraged once again that things would sort themselves out between the two of them.

At that moment, an attendant handed Tertius a note. He frowned, wondering who would know he was here.

You are needed at your carriage. There has been an incident.

It was signed by the manager of the gardens.

Sky looked at Gillian.

“It seems I'm needed where I left the carriage. Let me escort you to Templeton, before I leave.”

“I can do so, my lord,” the attendant answered immediately.

“That won't be necessary,” he replied.

“I can go with him,” said Lady Gillian. “Templeton is right there within view.”

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “I shan't be long.”

 

As soon as he was out of sight down the main promenade, the attendant turned to her. “I was to take you to meet a gentleman.”

Gillian's eyes widened and her heart began to beat. Gerrit! He had managed it after all.

Even as she knew what she was doing was wrong, and the consequences if she should be discovered, she was following the attendant quickly down the most secluded promenade denominated “Lover's Lane.”

She gave a quick glimpse over her shoulder. Good, Templeton's back was still turned to her, and Lord Skylar was nowhere to be seen.

The attendant left her at a stone bench under the immense branches of a plane tree. As soon as he'd departed, a tall man dressed in a flowing burnoose, his head covered by a turban, the lower part of his face draped with a scarf, stepped out from behind the tree.

“Gerrit!” She would know those twinkling eyes anywhere.

“My dear Gillian,” he said softly, pushing aside the scarf.

“What are you doing? Did you send that note to Lord Skylar?”

He chuckled, a low seductive sound. “Clever, wasn't it?”

“Dangerous,” she admonished. “If anyone should see me here, I would be ruined.”

“You already are.”

She stared at him. What did he mean?

“I have ruined you for any other, just as you have ruined me for any other,” he replied smoothly.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I told your companion I would be here, didn't I?”

“I don't think this is what she anticipated.”

“Your Lord Skylar made it all the more convenient for me by providing her with an escort.”

“We were just commenting on the fact,” she replied. “How long have you been observing us?”

“Long enough to know when to interrupt your tête-à-tête with your lord.” He touched her cheek. “Do you love him very much?”

“Of course not!” she replied immediately.

“I carried you with me in my heart into every campaign,” he told her.

She gazed at him, wanting so much to believe him. “Mother has moved up the wedding date,” she told him.

“You wound me with such news,” he murmured, bending to kiss her cheek.

“I don't know what to do. If only there were some way…”

“To what?”

“To postpone things. I wish I didn't have to marry at all!” she burst out.

He hugged her tightly to him.

“You don't know how much I regret not carrying you off with me to Gretna Green back then.”

“But you said the other day, you thought it was best this way.”

“But each time I see you anew, I begin to regret the wasted years.”

“I am betrothed. Lord Skylar says he still leaves the decision up to me, but Mother leaves me no choice. She says I am making a brilliant match. I cannot throw it all away for something that can never be.” How much she wanted to hear him refute all her logic.

“But must we throw it all away?” he murmured, drawing her closer to him.

“What do you mean?” she faltered, hoping for what she knew was impossible.

“I mean, my dear naive darling, there are ways.”

“What would you have me do? I can still refuse to marry Lord Skylar,” she told him, straining to see his reaction in the shadows.

His voice vibrated against her cheek as he spoke in a low tone. “That would be a very unwise move.”

“How do you mean?” she asked carefully.

“What would you do under such a cloud of scandal? If, on the other hand, you marry, that needn't mean you give up our friendship. I can arrange to meet you.”

“So…you wouldn't marry me if I were free now?” she asked, drawing away from him.

He chuckled, holding her fast. “You wouldn't want me as a husband, believe me. I make a much better lover.”

Those weren't the words she wanted to hear. “But you said you wished we had eloped…” Her voice trailed away.

“
Then
. I was a young boy. Now, I have aged too much and am far too cynical to make you any kind of husband.”

Gently she pushed herself away from him, more disappointed at his words than she had imagined.

“It doesn't mean we can't manage to amuse ourselves. All the best ton does it.”

“And if I don't want that?” she asked lightly, hiding the acute dismay she felt.

“You would be missing out on a vastly entertaining time. Your Lord Skylar looks to be a dull sort.”

She eyed Gerrit with a sense of sorrow. What had she been hoping? For a last-minute reprieve? A knight in shining armor to carry her away and promise her true love?

He moved his lips toward hers, but she broke away. “No, I mustn't. I am betrothed. You mustn't contact me again this way.”

He made no effort to detain her. Was she sorry? Had she expected him to? What would she have done if he had?

But he hadn't. She took herself to task sternly. No help lay for her in that quarter.

Her heart brimming with unfulfilled longing, she hurried back to the colonnaded center of the gardens. Glancing in every direction, she finally spotted Templeton seated at a box. Thankfully, Lord Skylar hadn't yet returned, but Lord Delaney and her friend Charlotte were joining Templeton at the box where they would all have supper.