Nicola Cornick (28 page)

Finally, to add to her woes, Westwood escaped Georgiana and came across to claim a dance, rudely cutting out Richard Pilton who had just approached Alicia on the same errand. Westwood’s face was set in lines of deep displeasure and Alicia’s heart sank even further.

‘I have been trying to dance with you all evening,’ he began peevishly as the orchestra struck up for a cotillion. ‘Lady Stapleford has been pushing me in the direction of that spiteful cat Georgiana and I’ve barely been able to escape from her sight!’

‘How flattering for you,’ Alicia murmured, secretly thinking that Christopher and Georgiana rather deserved each other. ‘No doubt she has her eye on you as a prospective son-in-law!’

Westwood grunted. ‘Well, she’ll catch cold at that! The whole of Georgiana’s fortune is not enough to sweeten that pill!’

Alicia looked at him with a dislike fortunately hidden by her mask as Westwood continued in the same tone, ‘I really wish you would reconsider my offer, Alicia! It would put an end to precisely that sort of speculation!’

‘Thank you!’ Alicia no longer tried to conceal her dislike. ‘No doubt
my
fortune is sufficient to help you overlook those aspects of my character you dislike!’

Westwood looked affronted. ‘Dash it all, Alicia, there’s no need to be so sharp! You know I am at your feet—and have been for years!’

There was nothing remotely loverlike in his voice and Alicia wondered whether he had actually managed to convince himself that he loved her, or was merely repeating the fiction in the hope of convincing her. Either way, it only confirmed her belief that they would be badly suited and she was glad she had not seriously considered his proposal. A little while ago she might have been persuaded that he cared for her and that she was treating him badly. Now she felt that he no longer did care, if he had ever done so.

A moment later she was assailed with a jealousy far greater than anything Westwood could ever have felt. The Marquis of Mullineaux had come into the ballroom and had instantly been intercepted by Lady Corinna who was whispering intimately in his ear. Saturnine in a black domino, there was no mistaking his height and breadth of shoulder. He straightened up with negligent ease and the two of them disappeared together into the card-room. Alicia missed her footing, her anguish was so great, and Westwood caught her arm to steady her.

‘Do take care, Alicia!’ He guided her through the dancers to the edge
of the ballroom without so much as a by-your-leave. ‘I think you should sit this one out until you feel better!’

Resentment at his high-handed attitude now added to the mixture of miseries tormenting Alicia. She could not be bothered to speak, sitting in silence through the remainder of the dance and the polonaise that followed. Westwood attempted to engage her in conversation with determined cheerfulness.

Meanwhile, the Marquis and Lady Corinna had re-entered the room and joined the dance, which gave James the opportunity to study Alicia in a very similar way to that which she had been watching him earlier. His observation was subtle, but not covert enough to fool Lady Corinna, who was very shrewd in matters pertaining to her own sex. She gave an exaggerated sigh.

‘Can it be that you still carry a torch for Lady Carberry, my lord? I fear that any hopes you may cherish in that direction are destined to be dashed!’

James raised an eyebrow lazily, not troubling to deny her allegation. ‘Why might that be, Lady Corinna?’

Lady Corinna was too accomplished to disparage a rival directly. She pressed her body provocatively against his and gave him a melting smile. ‘Oh, it is simply that Lady Carberry is renowned for her…coldness…to her admirers.’ This was accompanied by a look which was the very antithesis of coldness. ‘One might have expected that she would have wished for some fun after so tediously old a husband, but it seems not. One can only assume that such…pursuits do not interest her.’ There was no mistaking the look she sent him with these words.

However, her statement did not appear to have the desired effect. As the dance ended, James renewed his scrutiny of Alicia with even greater interest. She was sitting quite still, head bent, with the unconscious grace which always seemed a part of her. For some reason he could not divine he was convinced that she was not at all happy. A man he took to be Christopher Westwood was talking to her animatedly and receiving little or no response.

‘Of course,’ Lady Corinna was saying to draw attention back to herself, ‘she
is
very beautiful if one admires that style.’

The Marquis, who could recognise malice even when it was couched in such honeyed terms, agreed with deliberate obtuseness that Lady Carberry was indeed very beautiful. It earned him a sharp look and drove Lady Corinna further into indiscretion through sheer pique.

‘Indeed,’ she said spitefully, ‘she has done very well out of those looks in the past. George Carberry may have been a nobody socially, but he was a very rich nobody and one who died very conveniently.’

Looking up into James’s eyes, Lady Corinna thought she saw a flash of anger, but it was banished so swiftly by indifference that she thought she must have been mistaken. The movement of the dance took them onward and a moment later she knew she had miscalculated.

‘Lady Carberry’s marriage was very much a match forced by her father,’ James said quite levelly, but in tones which could not be misconstrued.

Lady Corinna stared. Provoked into uncharacteristic jealousy, she gave a titter of artificial laughter.

‘Lud, my lord, surely you cannot have fallen for that old excuse? Why, can it be that you are in love with her? How piquant! Or perhaps your relationship with Lady Carberry is not as innocent as the two of you like to make it seem?’

She knew it for a disastrous mistake as soon as the words had left her mouth. Before that moment the situation might have been retrieved with a tactful acknowledgement or a change of subject. But jealousy had driven her on and now it was too late. Lady Corinna had needed a reason to explain why James had not availed himself of her invitations to take their relationship further—much further. She did not think him obtuse, nor did his reputation suggest that he had lived as a monk. Yet all her most blatant invitations had been smoothly turned down in a way that could give no offence but which Lady Corinna had found both baffling and deeply frustrating.

But now she realised that her unguarded remark had hit quite literally on the truth, and that her next malicious comment had ended any chance she might have had of saving the day—or saving him for herself.

James caught her arm very tightly, swinging her round to face him. Until then their relationship had been characterised on his side by an indolence which had never revealed any deep feelings at all. Lady Corinna had, for her pride’s sake, tried to make him fall in love with her, but he had shown no signs of doing so, no sign of any real feeling. Now, however, she could see genuine emotion in plenty and it chilled her to the bone.

James kept his voice discreetly low, but there was an edge of white-hot anger to it.

‘I think it best, madam, that we forget your ill-judged observations.
However, should I hear them repeated I shall know exactly where they originated.’

He did not wait for a reply, but dropped her arm with a contemptuous gesture and, turning on his heel, strode away without a backward glance.

Alicia was finding Christopher Westwood’s presence beginning to grate on her. He lurked at her shoulder like a gaoler, glowering at anyone who looked as though they might ask her to dance. He had even managed to frighten away Caroline and Marcus, who had gone off with a certain relief to dance together. Caroline was puzzled that Alicia, normally so spirited in her refusal to accept Westwood dictating to her, appeared to have become completely passive. She did not have the opportunity to ask her friend what was going on, but as the dance ended she steered Marcus towards where James Mullineaux was moodily watching the game of piquet progressing in the next room.

‘James—’ Caroline never wasted time ‘—I need you to go and save Alicia from Christopher Westwood!’

Marcus almost choked but James did not seem impressed. He did not laugh, but shook his head slightly.

‘I’m sorry, Caro, I don’t think I can help you.’

Caroline frowned in vexation. ‘What is the matter with everyone tonight? You’re sulking in here like a schoolboy and Alicia is letting Christopher bully her! James, for my sake, please do as I ask!’

James turned to Marcus. ‘What do you think, Marcus?’

His friend gave him a level look. ‘I think it would be very dangerous, James.’

James smiled reluctantly. ‘So you’ve read me like a book again, Marcus? Damn it, the only time I’m behaving with circumspection, and your own wife tries to persuade me otherwise!’

Caroline stamped her foot. ‘I have no idea what you are both talking about,’ she said stormly, ‘but if you don’t like my idea I’ll have to think again—’

James put his hand on her arm. ‘Keep calm, Caro! I am persuaded! But don’t blame me if you regret it later!’ He put his drink down and disappeared into the ballroom. Caroline turned to Marcus, still frowning.

‘Marcus, if you don’t tell me what is going on, I shall scream with aggravation!’

Marcus laughed. ‘I rather think, my love, that James has been trying to avoid Alicia. Or at least,’ he corrected himself scrupulously, ‘trying to behave towards her with impeccable respectability. He wishes to put his estates in order before he takes matters any further, but I believe
his intentions to be completely honourable!’ He met her eyes, wide behind the jewelled mask. ‘You may imagine how difficult it is for him to behave in such a way! And now you have thrown temptation in his path!’

Gradually the group around Alicia and Westwood had dissipated, seeking more congenial company, and as the music struck up for a waltz Westwood turned back to Alicia again clearly intending to ask her to dance.

The figure of a black domino interposed itself somehow between the two of them.

‘You must not seek to monopolise this beautiful lady, sir!’ The black domino’s tone was mocking. ‘This dance is surely mine!’

Alicia found herself swept onto the floor before a scowling Westwood could even draw breath to object. The black domino smiled down at her from behind his mask.

‘I apologise if you feel that I have forced your hand, my lady, but I had the strong impression that your companion would not yield to more gentle persuasion! And how else would I then achieve a dance with the most beautiful lady in the room?’

Alicia’s lips twitched but she was determined not to fall immediate prey to this outrageous flattery. ‘A pretty compliment, sir,’ she observed coolly. ‘You must be a practised flatterer! In a gathering like this how is it possible to make such a judgement between ladies?’

The dark eyes behind the mask were intent on her face. ‘Easily. Beauty such as yours cannot be eclipsed by a mere domino and mask, madam.’

Alicia laughed. The lilt of the music carried them onwards. He always chooses the waltz, she thought, feeling the hard strength of the arm that encircled her. She felt light-headed, as though she had drunk too much, dizzy with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. She forgot his previous coolness, forgot Lady Corinna, and gave herself up to the exhilaration of being in his arms again.

As they turned, Alicia caught sight of Christopher Westwood glowering in their direction and smiled at her partner with deliberation.

‘You are too generous, sir. I shall begin to suspect you of insincerity soon!’

‘Oh, you should not!’ The lazy drawl held a note of teasing she recognised. ‘I am in deadly earnest. But then, I have the advantage over
your multitude of other admirers because I would recognise you anywhere, and in any disguise, madam. Just as you would know me.’

Alicia felt a shiver go through her. There was no point in denying his words and he had invested them with a significance deeper than their surface value. She looked up into the dark face above her and forgot all her worries in the pure enjoyment of being held so close to him. She could read the heat of desire in his eyes, see that he wanted her, feel it in the touch of his hand. It was intoxicating, pleasure distilled. She wanted to drink deep. It was so overwhelming that Alicia felt her doubts and fears melt away as the exhilaration took her.

The end of the dance found them by the doors which led to the conservatory. James let Alicia go slowly, with a speculative look which did nothing to calm her inner turmoil. ‘Will you consent to walk a little with me?’ he asked.

Alicia hesitated. He was very direct. There was no prevarication about the heat of the ballroom or the need for fresh air. Seeing her doubt, James smiled suddenly.

‘Come, Alicia, you used not to be so careful of public opinion! Will you trust me if I promise to behave with the utmost propriety?’

He proffered his arm and they sauntered through the double doors which led into the green darkness of the conservatory. The air was scented and humid here the light dim. Spiky shadows of fern and palm mingled on the floor, and couples wandered slowly amongst the plants, conversing in low voices. They walked for a little while in silence, but it was a silence sharp with awareness on Alicia’s part. She was very conscious of the hard muscles of his arm beneath her fingers and the brush of his body against hers as they walked. It was almost enough to fill her mind to the exclusion of her other concerns, but not quite. Unconsciously her head drooped as she felt the weight of her worries come back to haunt her.