An Unconventional Miss (16 page)

Her attention was caught and she ceased her rather futile struggle. ‘Do not be impertinent, sir,' she returned, keeping her voice low, for fear of causing an unpleasant scene. ‘I gave you my answer last year and I promise you that I am not about to change my mind!'

‘Then let me assure you that I have no intention of propositioning you again on that score,' he riposted, an angry glint in his eye. ‘I merely thought to serve you a good turn in regard to the little problem I mentioned earlier!'

‘And what,' asked Felicity, with a certain amount of asperity, ‘can you possibly imagine that you could do about that particular matter?'

‘Aha!' He chuckled. ‘So you are, at least, prepared to hear me out?'

She shrugged, her eyes once again scouring the room in the forlorn hope that Wyvern might have returned. ‘If you have something to say, then kindly say it—I cannot stay here all evening!'

‘As a matter of fact,' he said, stroking her hand, which was still in his possession, ‘I do have a plan of sorts that will help your cause, although it will require a certain amount of cooperation from your good self!'

‘In what respect?' she returned guardedly, somewhat nervous lest she should be seen in conversation with a man whose reputation, as she was well aware, was far from spotless.

‘It merely requires that you befriend the young lady in question and get into the habit of taking her about with you.'

‘Befriend her!' Felicity let out a shrill laugh, causing one or two of the assembled company within earshot to turn their heads in her direction. ‘If you know anything at all about my feelings for her, you must know that she is the last person on earth that I would want to befriend!'

‘We cannot expect to reap until we have sown,' continued Hazlett patiently. ‘Taking Miss Beresford into your circle is merely part of the wider design I have in mind—for which it is necessary that you gain her confidence.'

‘I suppose that I could do that if I were to put my mind to it,' returned Felicity, considering. ‘Although I find myself hard pressed to understand how it could be of any possible benefit to me!'

‘I promise you that it will all become clear eventually, my dear,' soothed the viscount, as another attempt at a smile brought his jagged scar once more into prominence. ‘And, to further that end,' he went on, ignoring the look of repugnance that had appeared on Felicity's face, ‘it would also help me in my quest to assist you, if you were to find yourself willing to supply me with certain information.'

‘What sort of information?' came her guarded reply.

‘Am I correct in thinking that you spent a good deal of your childhood on the Ashcroft estate?'

At Felicity's cautious nod, Hazlett then set about questioning her in regard to the two brothers' habits and, in particular, their favourite childhood haunts; when she reproachfully protested that, since she had been far too young to be included in their boyish pursuits, she had no idea of the manner in which they might have occupied themselves, the viscount grew quite angry and pressed her to try to remember.

‘Well, I believe that they climbed trees, boated on the lake—the sorts of thing that all boys do, I imagine,' she retaliated crossly, quite at a loss as to why these trivial matters seemed to be of such importance to the viscount. ‘Although, as it happens, I do seem to recall that they spent a good deal of their time up in the ruins of the abbey—building camps and so on!'

At this last, Hazlett's eyes lit up in interest. ‘The abbey?' he asked her. ‘Are you sure of that?'

‘Well, as sure as I can be,' replied Felicity, with a disaffected shrug. ‘You must remember that both boys were so much older than myself—and, as a small girl, I could hardly have expected to be invited to join them in their rough-and-tumble pastimes!'

For several moments, the viscount stared down at her without speaking, presumably weighing up whether or not there was any real substance in what, as far as Felicity was concerned, had been her own rather trifling contribution to his queries. After waiting in vain for some explanation as to his rather odd manner of questioning, Felicity lost patience with him.

‘I fail to see what any of that has to do with your proposal that I should strike up a friendly relationship with the Beresford female!' she flung at him. ‘And, unless you are prepared to explain to me immediately, I intend to have nothing further to do with your foolish machinations. Kindly let go of my hand and take yourself off!'

‘Calm yourself, dear lady, I beg of you!' returned Hazlett, with a low chuckle. ‘Have I not told you that all would become clear eventually? Since I am about to relieve you of a—how shall I put it?—unwanted thorn in your side, it occurs to me that the less you know of any arrangements I might make, in regard to the aforesaid, the better. In this way, should any of those plans misfire, you could, quite truthfully, claim to have known nothing about the matter! You really must just learn to respect my judgement in the case, my dear Miss Draycott! I assure you that, eventually, everything will turn out for the best.'

‘I trust that these “arrangements” you speak of do not involve damaging Miss Beresford in any way!' countered Felicity nervously. ‘I would not care for you to think that I condone violence of any sort! I merely wished for Wyvern to cease his mooning after her—the girl has so many other beaux to choose from, after all is said and done!'

Hazlett gave another of his unsettling smiles, sending a shudder of revulsion running down Felicity's spine, leaving her wishing, more than ever, that she had not been so unwise as to voice her innermost thoughts to him. Impatiently freeing her hand from his hold, she would have turned away from him had he not blocked her pathway.

‘Just be sure that you play your part, Miss Draycott,' he said, now with a clear hint of menace in his voice. ‘You would not wish our little conversation to become common currency, I'll be bound!'

Then, with a mocking bow, the viscount stepped back to allow her to proceed. ‘Do not fail me,' he murmured softly, as, trembling with uneasiness, she stumbled past him towards the safety of the ladies' retiring room. ‘Mark me well—I shall be in touch!'

 

Following Wyvern's precipitate departure, the Hendersons' supper dance, from Jessica's point of view at least, was proving to be even more tedious than before. The four-piece musical ensemble seemed to be unable to keep time with one another and one of the violinists was decidedly flat which, she thought to herself, was exactly as she herself felt at this moment. To add to her annoyance, Richard Howlett, her most recent partner, had trodden on her slipper, his clumsy great foot practically severing the pretty silver rosette that embellished its top.

Lifting the hem of her pale-blue sarsenet evening gown a few inches to inspect the damage, Jessica was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Her lovely new slippers were almost ruined, to be sure, but at least a visit to the retiring room, to attempt some sort of hasty repair, would provide a much-wanted respite from the heat and incessant chatter.

‘Oh, my goodness!' exclaimed Imogen, having surveyed her cousin's predicament. ‘How very unfortunate. The rosette is hanging on by the merest thread—we must make haste to cut it off, lest you trip and fall over!'

She made as if to rise, but Jessica pressed her back into her seat. ‘You stay there,' she said firmly. ‘The retiring room is just across the hall—I can manage perfectly well myself—I shan't be more than a few minutes.'

And, taking great care not to trip on the trailing ornamentation, she made her way across the floor to the nearest doorway whilst, at the same time, harbouring a secret hope that Wyvern might not, as she had previously assumed, have actually left the building. Perhaps she would bump into him in the corridor, she thought breathlessly. Pushing open the heavy oak door in eager anticipation of his being there, waiting for her, with a full and plausible explanation of his odd behaviour of late, she stepped into the passage.

Sadly, it was not to be. Several individuals were milling about in the hallway, but Wyvern was not amongst them. With a self-conscious shrug and much lowering of spirit, Jessica let herself into the ladies' retiring room, a wistful smile curving her lips as she cast her mind back to that other never-to-be-forgotten occasion.

Any further thoughts regarding that memorable incident, however, were soon to be dashed from her mind, as the unmistakable sound of copious weeping met her ears. Looking around the room for the source of the distress, her eyes lit upon the corner screen behind which, it was now quite evident, some unfortunate female was crying her eyes out.

Closing the door with as little noise as she could manage, she stepped forward and softly enquired whether she might be of any assistance. At the sound of her voice, the unknown lady broke into a fresh torrent of tears.

‘You will make yourself ill if you continue in that manner,' warned Jessica, tapping on the screen. ‘Please come out and let me help you!'

The crying stopped, to be followed by a loud sniff and a few lesser snuffling sounds then, ‘Do you have a handkerchief I could borrow?' came a plaintive voice. ‘Mine is no longer serving any useful purpose!'

Jessica held her breath in surprise. That voice, she was almost certain, belonged to none other than Felicity Draycott! What on earth could have happened to the girl to cause her such anguish? Then, diving into her reticule, she pulled out a neatly folded scrap of linen and, raising her arm, tossed it over the top of the screen. ‘Now, do come out from behind the screen before someone else comes in,' she urged the now-silent sufferer. ‘I am sure you will feel better if you splash your eyes with some of this cool water here in the jug.'

With Jessica's handkerchief to her eyes and her face averted, Felicity crept into view. ‘You have been most kind,' she began, but then, as she registered the identity of the person who had come to her aid, her face crumpled in dismay and she began on another bout of weeping. ‘Oh, no!' she wailed. ‘Not you! This is more than I can bear!'

Although she was somewhat taken aback at the older girl's reaction to her presence, Jessica chose to believe that the hysterical outburst must all be part and parcel of Miss Draycott's state of distress and, setting out a chair in front of the dressing table, she begged Felicity to sit down and compose herself.

‘Do let me bathe your eyes,' she said, reaching into a bowl for some of the cotton wool pads that had been so thoughtfully provided by their hostess. Then, tipping out the hairpins from a small dish nearby, she quickly filled it with water and, having dipped the pads into the cool water, she proceeded to apply them to Felicity's badly swollen eyelids. ‘You will feel much better after this,' she soothed the now unresisting Miss Draycott, as she gently mopped away at the worst ravages of the girl's suffering.

As if in some sort of trance, Felicity made no comment as Jessica then concentrated her efforts on removing some of the damage that the constant scrubbing with a handkerchief had done to her nose and cheeks. But then, as soon as the puffiness around her eyes began to subside a little, she found herself watching the younger girl's patient ministrations with a deep sense of shame.

‘So you are kind as well as beautiful,' she said, trying to smile. ‘'Tis little wonder that you are so well liked, Miss Beresford!'

A slight flush covered Jessica's cheeks but, as she looked up and caught Felicity's eye in the looking-glass, she merely shook her head and smiled and, after patting the other girl's face dry, she indicated the powder box.

‘Possibly just the lightest dusting of rice-powder?' she suggested. ‘Then you will be as good as new, I promise.' Then, after a slight pause, as she watched Felicity applying a powder puff to a face that had benefited greatly from her own dedicated attention, she added, ‘Will you not tell me what has upset you so?'

Lowering her eyes, Felicity was at a loss as how to reply to Jessica's question. How could she tell this sweet young girl, who had come to her aid so ungrudgingly, that, scarcely half an hour previously, she herself had been involved in plotting her downfall! Her chest heaved and, before she could prevent them, tears began to fill her eyes once again.

Seeing that her unexplained misery still appeared to be causing Felicity considerable distress, Jessica could not think how best to assist the girl. There could hardly have been a death in the Draycott family, she reasoned, for, had that been the case, Felicity would not have attended the supper party. She frowned, as another thought occurred to her. Surely, no gentleman could have been responsible for such an extraordinary outburst of weeping? Suddenly, her heart stopped and, as the evident cause of Felicity's misery became horribly clear to her, she was forced to bite hard on her lip to prevent herself crying out in protest. Felicity Draycott was, quite clearly, pining over Wyvern's rejection! It had been impossible for Jessica to escape the rumours regarding the earl who, having been on the verge of offering for Felicity, had abruptly and without explanation, withdrawn his suit and retired from the running. How galling, then, for her to have to watch her lost love dancing with another! Small wonder that she had greeted Jessica's intervention with such dismay! And, as unwanted images of Wyvern's as yet still unfathomable behaviour towards herself came flooding into her mind, coupled with her own feelings of frustration and regret, a flash of anger ran through her.
Why,
she thought to herself,
I was right about him. It is clear that the man is nothing but an out-and-out philanderer!