Pride and Retribution (5 page)

‘Yes, Mother.’ Lucy lapsed into silence and tried to not to think about how handsome both Buxton and Markham were, in different ways. Markham was a golden angel and Buxton was a dark devil, with devil’s eyes.

Evelyn slowly lay back in the water and hoped her wayward daughter wouldn’t look too deeply into the Buxton/Harriet Saunders affair.
I could do without her finding out Harriet Saunders is my cousin!
She thought.
Mind you, I wouldn’t mind Buxton as a son in law.
She smiled softly at that thought and sighed.

Chapter Two

The Assembly Rooms above the
Pump Rooms held a ball of one sort or another most evenings. Tonight’s was a black and white ball, men had to dress in black evening wear and ladies had to dress in either black or white.

Lucy sat at the dresser watching Betsy
secure the diamond tiara in her dark russet hair and gently place the small white flowers. Lucy surveyed the finished article and smiled. ‘Betsy you are a miracle worker. You take the ordinary and make it beautiful.’

‘Look at what the good Lord gave me to work with.’ Betsy smiled and curtsied.

Lucy looked over her gown again and wondered if it was a little too risqué. Her décolletage was definitely exposed, but she was sure there would be ladies with even more showing. She gently straightened the long silk gloves that almost reached her armpits. The diamond necklace draped around the base of her throat sparkled in the candle light. She picked up the silk reticule to match her silk gown and her ivory fan. She smiled at Betsy again and left to go down stairs. Betsy followed with her dark red velvet cape over her arm. She met Timothy on the landing. ‘Sweet Saviour!’ burst from him. ‘You look positively beautiful, Sis. I shall be the envy of every buck there!’ He offered his arm and Lucy smiled coyly.

‘And I shall be the envy of every debutante, Timmy. So make sure you don’t dance more than two dances with any girl otherwise her mamma will expect an offer!’ She appraised her brother and found him completely dashing, as all her brothers were
, from his dark hair to his fine black silk dancing slippers.

Evelyn
was waiting in the hall. ‘Come along, you two, we shall be late.’ She admonished them as the butler draped her midnight blue cape over her shoulders. Lucy knew that she was in a full length corset complete with steel back brace, to ease her discomfort for the night ahead.

Timothy took the cloak from Betsy,
draped it over Lucy’s shoulders and as she fastened the clasp, he accepted his cloak from his valet and placed his bicorn hat on his head, adjusting it to the right angle, and then pulled on his white evening gloves.

The footman opened the door at a signal from the butler and revealed the glossy black five panel landau waiting outside the door with its carriage lamps gleaming in the dark. Another footman stood ready by the carriage to help the ladies inside and he offered his gloved hand to Evelyn Hastings. Timothy was last in and he sat with his back to the horses, as decorum dictated. The coach started with a jerk that made Evelyn suck in her breath.

The carriage pulled away from number five Beauchamp Road, in the direction of Clarendon Avenue. The coachman carefully negotiated crossing over this busy road into the top of The Parade and then they merely followed every other carriage heading for the Pump Rooms.

‘Timothy, you must keep an eye on Lucy tonight.’ Evelyn looked hard at
her son. ‘Mind not so much whom she dances with, but who endeavours to get her alone.’

‘Will somebody try to get her alone?’ Timothy looked at his mother in confusion.
He was a younger version of Robert and Evelyn wondered if he would grow up to look like his father, as all his brothers had. There were subtle differences between each of them, but essentially they all had Rufus’s dark brown hair, his hazel and green eyes and his tall, broad shouldered physique. Each face was slightly different, with Robert having no dimple, but Tim did, Richard had a square chin that the others didn’t and Benjamin had Evelyn’s fine cheek bones.

‘The Duke of Markham will be sniffing around.’ Evelyn explained and Timothy suddenly displayed understanding.

‘Yes, Mother. You can rely on me.’

‘Don’t you trust me?’ Lucy asked in a hurt voice. ‘I’m perfectly capable of saying no.’

Evelyn speared her with a piercing look. ‘Make sure that you do.’

‘Yes, mother.’ Lucy remained calm.

‘If your father were here I wouldn’t ask Timothy to do it, but he’s not and men only listen to men.’

‘I’
m sorry mother, but I’m only fifteen. Someone like the Duke of Markham is not going to take any notice of me.’ Timothy said deprecatingly.

‘It will make him think twice, if he’s likely to get called out by a minor.’ Evelyn smiled
and stroked her palm over his cheek. ‘Try not to think about it, but just remain alert.’ She demanded seeing the doubt on her youngest child’s face.

It took a little while for their carriage to arrive at the front doors and then the footman had the steps down. They were out, the steps back up and the carriage moving off before Lucy had time to sigh and look up at the coat of arms over the doorway.

Sir Roger was waiting just inside the doors and helped Lucy off with her cloak. ‘I must say you look delectable, tonight Miss Hastings.’ He said gallantly. He shook hands with Timothy and bowed to her mother then offered his arm for Lucy to collect her dance card. She was astonished to see that the card resembled a fan, opening out in a half moon shape with each dance allotted to each individual vane. The outer vanes were gilded with gold leaf, the wrist strap was a gold chain and the pencil was attached with a length of gold ribbon. As she admired it, she realised it would fit nicely with her collection of unusual dance cards that her mother had encouraged to collect when she was younger. Lucy carefully slipped the chain over her wrist and lifted the delicate lace and sarsenet gown as Sir Roger took her elbow in a gentle manner and escorted her up the stairs to the Assembly Rooms. For all his popinjay dress, Sir Roger had exceptional manners. Tonight he was dressed in a peacock blue waistcoat under his severely cut-away black silk jacket, black silk britches, black silk stockings and dancing slippers. His white silk shirt and cravat with a large ruby stickpin finished it off nicely.

‘You look very colourful tonight, Sir Roger, considering this is supposed to be a black and white ball.’ Evelyn said evenly.
She was wearing a stunning black Moiré gown that shimmered in the candle light, with a delicate silk shawl in white.

‘Well, I thought a little colour would liven things up, nobody likes dressing as if they are in mourning, what?’ Sir Roger said blasély.

‘Quite.’ Her mother murmured.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Lucy could see how crowded the b
allroom was. She knew there were a drinks room, a card room, a supper room and the retiring rooms on the periphery of this main ballroom. Timothy escorted his mother to the chairs that were lining the outside wall of the ballroom and helped her to sit. She sighed in relief and asked Timothy to procure her a glass of lemonade.

Lucy stood beside her mother and Sir Roger as
ked if he could have the first dance. Lucy held up her hand and Sir Roger opened the dance card carefully. He pencilled his name into the first slot for the Quadrille, closed it carefully and bowed. ‘I’m honoured you would stand up with me for the first dance, Miss Hastings. Would you like some refreshment?’

‘Thank you, I think a small glass of lemonade.’ She smiled and Sir Roger bowed and turned away.

‘He has very nice manners.’ Evelyn said as she watched him mince his way across the ballroom. ‘It’s such a pity he has pockets for let.’

‘Are they in dire
straits?’ Lucy asked quietly.

‘Not yet, but I understand they will be when he finally pays Markham what he owes him.’

‘Is it a lot of money?’

‘It’s nearly a thousand guineas
and that’s only a fraction of what he owes elsewhere.’ Evelyn said firmly. ‘He wants your dowry as soon as poss....’ she stopped mid-sentence and her face froze. Lucy looked up from her mother’s face to see the Duke of Markham standing in front of them. He was very elegant, in the best silk clothes that money could buy. He bowed formally. Evelyn inclined her head at the same time as Lucy dipped a curtsey.

‘Good evening, Ladies.’ He smiled
as he straightened up and Lucy was actually reminded of a snake. ‘Mrs. Hastings. May I be permitted to dance with your daughter?’ he asked rather obsequiously, making Lucy frown.

‘You may.’ Evelyn said, but as Markham reached for Lucy’s dance card, where it dangled from her wrist, Evelyn brought her fan up and placed it very deliberately on the Duke’s forearm. ‘None of the waltzes, she will be dancing those with her brother or not at all.’ She looked him squarely in the eye and the Duke could see the determination in her gaze. She was telling him to break her edict at his own peril.

He leaned down and whispered in Evelyn’s ear. ‘I could destroy her, you know?’

‘If you do that, Your Grace. I will steal into you
r house in the middle of the night and you will wake up with your testicles in your mouth!’ The Duke pulled back just enough to see her eyes and was unsettled by what he saw. ‘I have nothing to lose, Your Grace, but you do.’ She looked pointedly at his groin. He was confronted with a lioness protecting her cub and he didn’t really want to see where this confrontation would lead.

Lucy wondered what they were whispering about, but she suddenly didn’t want to know, if her mother’s stiff posture was anything to go by.
She could see the Earl of Buxton watching and suddenly he strode over to them, but he didn’t take his gaze off the back of the Duke. He gave Lucy a fleeting smile and motioned for her to lift her arm. She stuck her arm out and he took the little pencil and wrote his name into each waltz slot.  He smiled at her and returned his attention to the Duke, stepping back to make way for his companion.

‘I say, Markham! If
you’re going to put your name on her card, get on with it? I haven’t got all night, you know.’ Howard Cuthbertson said as he smiled at Lucy and bowed. ‘May I have the pavane Miss Hastings?’

‘You may, My Lord
.’ Lucy said and held her card out to him. He took his time writing his name in the slot for the pavane.

‘Botheration, Buxton! You’ve helped yourself to all the waltzes!’ Cuthbertson said loudly and the Duke suddenly jerked upright
. He snatched up Lucy’s card and almost yanked her off her feet. He looked at Buxton with disgust, scrawled his name in the slot for the cotillion, dropped her card and gave her stiff bow before stalking away.

‘Thank you, My Lords.’ Evelyn said with a deep sigh. She looked at Buxton and smiled, then held her hand out for the card. Lucy handed it over and Evelyn crossed out all but one waltz. ‘I’ll let you have the first waltz, but I just told the Duke she would be dancing waltzes with her brother or not at all, so I must be seen to make the stakes the same.’

‘I understand Mrs. Hastings.’ The Earl bowed deeply, smiled at Lucy again and stepped back again.

‘Baron Nairn.’ Evelyn offered her hand and Cuthbertson gently took it and brushed his lips over the back.

‘It’s an honour to see you again, Madam. It’s been too long.’ Cuthbertson said, making Lucy frown. ‘I have to say that I was sorry to hear of your husband’s passing and offer my belated condolences.’

‘That is very kind of you, my Lord
, but life moves on.’

‘It does indeed.’ He bowed courteously
, smiled at Lucy and withdrew.

‘What was that all about?’ Lucy asked her mother, but didn’t get a reply as Sir Roger and Timothy arrived back with refreshments. She had only taken one sip when the chime went for the first dance and Sir Roger held out his arm.

As they stepped up to the line, she saw Buxton standing up with Elizabeth Colbourne. ‘Were you supposed to be leading your sister out, tonight?’ she asked as Elizabeth looked at her with contempt.

‘No.’ He looked at Elizabeth. ‘Eliza is annoyed because you have been given Buxton’s first waltz!’

‘It was not by choice, I assure you.’ Lucy said firmly. ‘If I could have avoided it, I would have. But mother was so busy talking to the Duke of Markham that Buxton picked up my dance card and just wrote his name in every waltz!’

‘You should feel honoured!’ Sir Roger said
with a smile as the dance began.

‘Why?’ Lucy asked when she had the chance.

‘It’s rare Buxton dances with anyone, even his own sisters.’

They remained quiet for the rest of the dance and it gave Lucy the chance to look at the other people. Most of the men were in colourful waistcoats and the range of gowns was stunning. After the dance, Sir Roger escorted her back to her mother and resumed drinking his claret. Lucy had a quick look at her dance card and was relieved that she was not engaged for the next dance. She tried again to ask her mother about the Duke, but Timothy waylaid her this time. He asked for an introduction to Sir Roger’s sister and
as the two men vanished for a couple of minutes, a rather portly gentleman asked if Lucy wanted to partake of a dance and she couldn’t really refuse him. So he led her onto the line for a reel. He was a rather clumsy dancer and stood on her toes twice, making her yelp the last time. Lucy insisted on sitting out the next dance, but her mother had been enticed onto the floor by a middle aged Earl, who was wealthy and powerful. She watched her mother pace through the sedate dance, smiling as she returned and then the Baron was in front of her with his hand out and a cheeky smile on his face.

‘My dear, Miss Hastings.’ He said cheerfully, ‘let us be away?’ She placed her hand in his and he led her out.
She took his likeness as they approached the line of participants. He had dark, almost black straight hair and eyes so blue that they appeared to shine. He had a very aquiline face, quite hawk like, but still quite handsome, for all its angles and sharpness. She was assured that if he was unhappy about something, he would be frightening to countenance, but his full lips smiled so readily that it was almost impossible to imagine him becoming angry.