Sally James (12 page)

Denzil gazed silently at his sister, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“Well, can you say nothing? Can you tell me, honestly, that you do not love her?”

At last he shook his head. “But it would be most unfair to her,” he pointed out mildly.

“Why?”

He rose and paced the floor, while Judith watched silently. At last he turned to her.

“Judith, you do not understand! She is a child in so many ways. You have called her such! I was the first man she had ever seen apart from the old man who was their servant. And in the circumstances of our meeting, she was bound to regard me in a romantic light. Besides which, she is full of gratitude towards me. I could not take advantage of her so!”

“I have never heard such arrant nonsense in my life!” Judith said angrily. “Has she not had ample time to meet other men? And have not some of them behaved far more romantically towards her than you have, mooning over her, and paying her the most extravagant compliments! Denzil, can you not see that she loves you?”

“A romantic attachment she will soon forget,” he insisted.

“You are not committed to Araminta?” Judith asked in sudden alarm.

He laughed. “No, my dear sister, I am not! And now, shall we drop the subject?”

Judith had to comply, though her hopes were raised by the fact he had admitted he loved Miranda. She was certain his nonsensical scruples could be overcome in time, provided that meanwhile Miranda herself did not transfer her affections to some more openly devoted suitor.

* * * *

The next day, having seen Miranda drive off with Richard, Judith drove to the milliner’s. She was served by Mademoiselle le Brun, and though she tried some leading remarks, the woman was unresponsive, and Judith dared not persist for fear of frightening her or rousing her suspicions.

She returned home in a thoughtful frame of mind, to find Denzil waiting for her impatiently.

“Well?” he demanded.

“I am certain you are right,” she replied. “There is so plain a resemblance. What are we going to do?”

“We must somehow induce this woman to speak.”

“How can we do that? She would never admit to us that she once bore a child! Denzil, it would be impossible! She is gently born, one can tell that, and seems to be unmarried. And apart from that, there must be some secret to explain why Miranda was isolated in such a manner. She would not tell us.”

He frowned. “No, but she might tell Miranda.”

Judith stared at him unhappily. “I know not which of them would have the greater shock. You cannot mean to confront them suddenly? It would not do to take Miranda to the shop.”

“No. That would be too cruel to them both. They will need some sort of preparation, but for the moment I cannot see the best way to do it.”

“Leave it for a while,” Judith begged. “It is almost Christmas, and we can make plans while we are at Larchwood. You do intend to come with us as usual?”

The Beverleys had an estate in Sussex, and always spent Christmas there, when the boys were home from school. Denzil had in the past joined them for the family occasion, and he nodded.

“Of course, if you ask me. Is Miranda looking forward to it?”

“Yes. She gets on very well with little Charlotte, and is looking forward to meeting the boys. I think she is quite fagged with all this racketing about, though, and can do with a quiet time for a few weeks.”

“Then we will make our plans while we are at ‘Larchwood. In the meantime I will set in motion certain plans I have for discovering what I can about Mademoiselle le Brun.”

Chapter Nine

While these events were taking place, Miranda was enjoying her excursion with Richard, who was most informative about the buildings he took her to see. He showed her round St Paul’s that morning, and she exclaimed in delight when she recognised scenes she had seen in an illustrated book. As they were driving back towards Green Street, she was silent until he asked her what she was thinking of.

“I was wondering if I would ever see some of the other famous cathedrals. I would love to go to Paris and see Notre Dame, and see all the buildings of Rome! I wonder if I ever shall? This seems too much like a dream as it is. I cannot believe it will continue!”

“Why should it not? Miranda, come with me!” he exclaimed impulsively.

As she turned startled eyes towards him, he laughed ruefully.

“Oh, do not be afraid. Miranda, I know this is decidedly not the right time, and I ought not to have spoken to you, but what I meant was, would you marry me? We could travel over the whole of Europe and see all these places together!”

She was at a loss for a reply, and stared at him in confusion. He knew he had blundered, but could not stop.

“Miranda, I love you so much! Please say that at the very least you will give me the right to hope!”

She sighed and found her voice. “Oh, Richard, I like you so very much, and you are a dear friend, but I cannot love you. I – I do not think I know what love is, but I am sure it is not what I feel for you. But I do like you so very much!”

“Forgive me, then, and let us go on for the time being as friends?”

“Yes, please, Richard. Oh dear, I am sorry. I have hurt you!”

“Not if you do not forbid me to speak to you again, when perhaps you are a little more accustomed to the idea?”

She was silent, and kept her eyes lowered so that he could not read her expression, but as she did not reject his suggestion outright, he had to be content with the hope that at some time in the future she would come to love him. He cursed himself for an impetuous fool, and was unable, for once, to carry off the situation with the conversational skill he normally displayed.

* * * *

That evening there was an important ball, and Miranda was able to dismiss Richard’s declaration from her mind in the whirl of preparation for it. This was a much grander affair than any ball she had previously attended, and she gazed in awe at the crowds of people, and admired the elaborate ball dresses.

Her admirers soon discovered her, and she was immediately claimed for a dance by the Earl of Devoran. Denzil danced once with Araminta, and then, to her chagrin, disappeared into the card rooms.

Several dances later Richard appeared and asked Miranda to dance. She smiled at him, and he was able to make several innocuous remarks, so that by the end of the dance they were almost as comfortable together as they had been before his proposal that morning. Afterwards he left her talking to his sister while he went to procure some refreshments. While they waited, Mary greeted an older woman who came up on the arm of a much older man.

“Mary, my dear, how delightful to see you! It has been so long.”

“Lady Carstairs! And Mr Crabbe. How do you do?”

Mary then presented Miranda to the pair, and they stood exchanging polite comments until Miranda suddenly spoke.

“I beg your pardon, Ma’am, but is it not your husband who is trying to abolish the climbing boys?”

Lady Carstairs smiled at her. “Yes, Sir Henry has been associated with the Bill, though Mr Bennet is the prime mover.”

“I am so glad to meet you. It is a horrible thing to do, force little children up dark, dangerous chimneys. I do hope they will be successful.”

Lady Carstairs, thinking this an odd enthusiasm for so pretty a girl at a ball, sat down and invited Miranda to sit beside her.

“I would like to know you better, my dear, for you can be sure I have heard reports of you, though we have never met before.”

Richard came back then with lemonade, and while Mr Crabbe went off to find some refreshment for himself and Lady Carstairs, Richard and Mary moved away.

Miranda was talking animatedly to Lady Carstairs, and asking if it were really true that boys as young as four were made to climb the chimneys.

“I fear so, poor things.”

“It is monstrous! Oh, how I would like to make their masters climb the horrid dirty chimneys and see whether they liked it!”

“So would many of the more enlightened reformers, my dear, but I very much fear the Bill will be thrown out again.”

“Do you mean it will go on? That they will be able to ill-treat these boys and it will be legal?”

“Mr Bennet’s first Bill was thrown out last year, and this year they have insisted that there must be another special enquiry before the Lords will pass it. This despite the evidence produced before the Select Committee! But Mr Bennet is determined to try again next year if it fails again.”

“I do wish him and your husband success,” Miranda said warmly, and then Lady Carstairs, who was much taken with this beautiful girl, led her on to talk of herself. At last Mr Crabbe came back, and Lady Carstairs rose.

“I have so enjoyed our talk. I hope we meet again one day.”

“Oh yes, I am sure Lady Beverley will be pleased to see you,” Miranda said, for she too had liked Lady Carstairs.

A shadow crossed that lady’s face. “I fear not, child,” she said slowly.

Miranda looked puzzled. “Why not?” she asked, before she recollected that it was not polite to ask such questions. “Oh dear, I should not have asked that! Please forgive me!”

Lady Carstairs shook her head. “It does not matter. I wonder if Lady Beverley would permit you to visit me? You see, my dear, there is some old quarrel between my husband and Sir Denzil, or perhaps between their fathers originally. I do not know any of the details, only that the families never meet one another. I suspect it may be some old dispute about land, for their estates are close to each other in Cornwall.”

“I see,” Miranda said, wishing she could say more, but Lady Carstairs smiled and wished her a happy Christmas, then departed. As Miranda was immediately claimed for the next dance by a watchful admirer, she had little time to think more of the incident.

* * * *

Later Denzil emerged from the card rooms and danced with Miranda. She was quieter than usual and he teased her about this.

“Are you bored with all the gaiety of London?” he asked.

“No, indeed not. But I was remembering what Lady Carstairs said.”

“Who?” He spoke sharply in his surprise, and she recalled the quarrel.

“About the climbing boys,” she said hurriedly. “I was introduced to her, and asked her about them, and she told me some more of what her husband is doing. I hope I did not do wrong?” She glanced up at him. “Mary introduced us, so I thought it was permissible to speak with her, and I was so interested!”

He smiled reassuringly at her. “Of course it was permissible! I was merely surprised that you were still thinking so much of them, the climbing boys.”

“I cannot forget them.”

“There are many worse abuses in London,” he said soberly. “But you can do little about them, so do not spoil this evening.”

“It is not right, that they should have so little and I so much! Denzil, please, please do not think me ungrateful for all you have done for me, I do not mean that, but why? Why should you choose to help me? At least I was well fed and clothed, and lived in a lovely place, unlike these unfortunate babies, for many of them are little more!”

She spoke so urgently some of their nearest neighbours glanced curiously at them, though they could not hear what she said.

“Hush, Miranda, you must not distress yourself. Do not speak for a moment, and then we can slip into the anteroom and discuss it there, without all these people around.”

She obeyed, and he guided her off the floor and into a small anteroom which, he was relieved to see, was unoccupied. He led her to a chair and she sat down.

“I am sorry,” she said calmly, “I did not mean to make a commotion. I am quite calm now. But I am still curious to know why you chose to help me.”

“Do you not consider that what was being done to you, making you think you were mad, or on the verge of it, was in its way as evil as what is being done to the climbing boys? There are many different forms of cruelty. I was in a position to be able to rescue you, my dear. I hope you do not have any regrets for coming with me?”

“Oh no! How could you think so? Have I appeared ungrateful?”

“Not in the least.”

“It is still like a dream, that I escaped from my life on the island, and that you proved to me I am not mad! I cannot quite believe my good fortune. I am sure that one day I will wake up and find I have been asleep on the shell beach, and it never happened!”

He laughed. “No, I promise you it happened. It is no dream, and you will go on being happy, that I can promise too!”

“I wonder, when there is so much cruelty in the world?”

“Yes, but so many men anxious to shelter you from it! How many times has Tom Devoran danced with you tonight?”

She looked up at him swiftly, then lowered her eyes.

“I – I forget, Denzil.”

He was standing before her, and he put his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

“Miranda, promise me you will try to banish gloomy thoughts, for tonight, at least?”

“I will try, and I am sorry for being so foolish.”

“Not foolish, but kind hearted.”

She smiled up at him, and rose to go back into the ballroom. He stood looking down at her, his hand still resting lightly on her shoulder, and at that moment Araminta, who had seen them slip into the anteroom and been waiting jealously for them to reappear, finally decided she could bear the suspense no longer, and herself came into the room. Denzil came towards her with a smile, but she ignored him.

“Miranda dear, poor David Stone is looking for you. You promised him this dance. I thought I had seen you come into here. Are you feeling ill?”

“Just a trifle overcome with the heat,” Denzil replied smoothly. “If you are certain you are better now, Miranda, you had best not keep that impatient young man waiting!”

She laughed, completely in control of herself again, and with a happy smile to Araminta, and a word of thanks to Denzil, went out. Araminta for one moment was tempted to accuse Denzil of betraying her, but fortunately recollected herself. She had as yet no right to charge him with neglect or unfaithfulness, so she smiled sweetly and asked whether he was coming back into the ballroom.