The Adventuress (10 page)

“No gentleman worth his mettle would fall ill after a little swim,” Mr. Fairchild said, but his teasing tone did nothing to lighten Amity's mood. She glowered at me and made a point of not speaking to me for the duration of the voyage.

*   *   *

“I don't know what you did to so offend her,” Margaret said later that evening, when we were all snug in the hotel, rain lashing against the windows. “It was a stupid stunt—of that there can be no doubt—but you can hardly be held accountable.”

“Miss Wells feels that your attempt to stop Bainbridge after you followed him was a clever ruse to spur him on,” Colin said. “She insists that because you know him so well, you were fully aware of the effect your pleas would have on him.”

“No one heard what I said to him once we were away from you all, so she is basing her claims on nothing but speculation. I can assure you I did not spur him on. Why would I do such a thing?”

“Jealousy,” Cécile said. “She means us all to believe that you are infatuated with Jeremy and that you do not want to see him happily married.”

“I cannot think when I have heard anything quite so absurd,” I said.

“It is true, though, that we should have known Bainbridge would react exactly as he did to our efforts to dissuade him,” Colin said.

“Yes, all our efforts—yours and Amity's included,” I said. “This is intolerable.”

“Mr. Wells has asked that you and Colin dine separately from the others tonight,” Margaret said. “He claims that Amity is almost insensible she is so upset. I told him Cécile and I would stay back with you, although I am inclined to say we ought to descend upon them like Valkyries in the dining room. Why should we let that wretched girl have her way?”

“It is not worth making a fuss,” Colin said. “We shall have dinner sent up here, and spend a much more pleasant evening the four of us than we would by forcing ourselves where we are not wanted.”

“Emily, I am so very sorry.” Jack, who had been sitting quietly, listening, at last broke his silence.

“I assure you, Jack, you bear no responsibility for any of this,” I said. “I think it would be best if we went home. Colin, can you book us on a train tomorrow?”

“So soon?” Cécile said. “Kallista, I know I have been hard on you about Mademoiselle Wells, but she is now not behaving in an acceptable manner. You should not let her drive you away.”

“I am finding it increasingly difficult to appreciate any of the pleasures of Cannes,” I said, angry at feeling tears smart in my eyes. “Whatever I do is criticized.”

“You cannot think of leaving us,” Jack said. “I will say what no one else will: All of these bad feelings stem from Neville's death. He put us on edge and made it impossible for this holiday to be anything but awkward. Mrs. Wells should never have insisted that we remain after the funeral, and when she did, my brother ought to have stopped her instead of persuading you all to stay. You shoulder none of the blame, Emily. If you go now, we should all go.”

“Aptly said.” Colin crossed to me and crouched in front of me, taking my hands. “We all stay or none of us stay.”

“Then it is obvious,” Cécile said. “We all stay. Fair or not, Kallista will be blamed if the party is abandoned. There is plenty of champagne to be had here, and we shall make our own society. If Mademoiselle Wells continues to be difficult, we will not bother to notice.”

“Your suggestion is a reasonable one, Cécile,” I said. I did not want to spoil Jeremy's holiday, but felt that whatever I did would prove wrong in the end. “I shall stay. But heaven help you all if Jeremy catches so much as a cold. Amity will persuade you all that it is a result of my having put a curse on him.”

“Emily, if you were to curse Bainbridge, I should hope you would have the good sense to aim for a more crushing blow,” Colin said. “What can a cold hope to accomplish? He is not, after all, Jane Bennett, and even she managed to recover after her ill-advised ride through the rain. You would have to do better than a cold.”

 

Amity

Four months earlier

Birdie and her daughter did not speak for two days after the incident at the pyramids. Their silence might have continued for longer had Captain Sheffield not—at last—called on the party at Shepheard's Hotel, where the luxurious accommodations had failed to make even the slightest favorable impression on Amity. His arrival, and the subsequent adventures of the Three Musketeers, restored her good spirits. Now the Khan el-Khalili teemed with exotic treasures, the pyramids and the sphinx were magical, and the society at Shepheard's second to none. Better still, Jack had persuaded his brother to join him in Egypt.

“I almost wish the duke weren't coming,” Amity said, as she and Christabel sat at a table on the crowded terrace at Shepheard's the afternoon of his much-anticipated arrival. “We are having such fun with Jack. What if his brother is not so affable?”

“Amity, you have been desperate to meet the duke for months. Can it be that your nerves are plaguing you now?”

“Almost certainly,” Amity said, giggling and then pausing while a waiter delivered finger sandwiches and cakes to accompany their tea. “At any rate, even if he shows not the barest interest in me, he is bound to demand more of his brother's time. You in particular will dislike that.”

Christabel blushed. “Am I so obvious?”

“Not at all,” her friend said, stirring sugar into her steaming cup. “It is only because I know you so well that I can read your feelings.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Christabel, dear, you shall have to become much more forthright if you want him to guess what resides in your heart.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort until I have a clearer picture of his own feelings on the subject.”

“Your English reticence will do you no favors, my friend.” Amity fidgeted, opened her parasol, and leaned back in her chair. “If I were you, I would be suggesting to Jack that he ought to have a capable photographer on hand to capture his myriad adventures.”

“I could never be so forward.” Christabel's eyes widened. “To imply that I would be willing to travel with him—”

“As his wife, my dear. That is not so shocking,” Amity said, closing her parasol and sitting up straight. “Here they are now, so I suppose we ought not continue strategizing on the topic. We must make it look as if this is the most casual tea we have ever had.” Two lanky gentlemen, one in uniform, the other in a light-colored linen suit, expertly tailored, mounted the stairs outside the hotel. “He is more handsome than I would have expected. I've always pictured dukes as pale, elderly, and infirm.”

“I could have told you Jeremy is nothing of the sort,” Christabel said. “I cannot claim to know him well, but we have met several times, and he is what most mothers consider dangerously charming. As you know, he quite refuses to marry, much to their chagrin.”

“Jack only touched briefly on the subject. Why won't he marry?”

“His heart was broken by the dearest friend of his youth, Lady Emily Hargreaves, and he has never recovered. He is in possession of both fortune and title, so if you do want to catch him, you shall have to rely on more than your dowry. There is nothing Jeremy needs.”

“Except, perhaps, love.” Amity squinted as she studied the taller of the gentlemen approaching their table. She held up her hand for him to kiss even before his brother could make the introduction. Without the slightest sign of hesitation, Jeremy Sheffield, Duke of Bainbridge, took the little gloved hand and lingered over it.

“My brother warned me about you, Miss Wells, and, as you see, I am not waiting to be properly introduced. Whatever will your mother say?”

“Nothing, your grace, that could be repeated in public,” Amity said. “Unless, of course, your intentions prove to be honorable.”

“I do hate to disappoint a young lady's mother, but I cannot bear to be less than honest with you, Miss Wells. My intentions have never been honorable, and I am too old to change my habits now.”

“Then, your grace, I must beg you to take a seat. Christabel and I are taking tea, but perhaps you would prefer whisky?”

“She is a pistol, Jack.” The duke kissed Christabel on both cheeks before sitting next to Amity. “I like her already.”

 

7

The rooms at the Hotel Britannia were all en suite, and the facilities left one nothing short of utterly satisfied. I took a long bath before dinner, luxuriating in the deep tub, whose waters Meg, my maid, had scented with rose oil. My ablutions leaving me feeling greatly refreshed, I vowed to befriend Amity Wells, and to do everything in my power to ensure that she and Jeremy enjoyed the rest of this dreadful holiday in their honor. Cécile may have been right in her observation that I was harder hit by Jeremy's engagement than I realized, for although I harbored no romantic feelings for him, the very act of him taking a wife would herald a necessary alteration in our friendship, and it was only natural that I would mourn the change to some degree. Perhaps this had caused me to be less generous with Amity than I ought to have been, and after the chaos of Jeremy's ill-fated swim, I thought it best that I do what I could to try again with her.

“I have let out the seams just a bit, madam,” Meg said, as she lowered my favorite Worth gown over my head. “Babies do take a toll on the waist.” There had been a time when I might have mourned the loss of my waistline, but I cared very little about it now.

“You need not remind me about my waist,” I said, and smoothed the icy blue voile skirt. “I would rather have you letting out seams than pulling these stays tighter. I have always been fond of breathing.”

“You're still awfully slim, madam,” Meg said. “I shouldn't worry.” While she wrestled with the tiny buttons that fastened the back of the bodice, I clasped a diamond and sapphire necklace around my neck. “Do you think this jewelry is too showy?”

“Too showy, madam? Not at all. If I owned it I would wear it every day without exception. It's stunning.”

“I want to be careful not to do anything that might be interpreted as an attempt to upstage Miss Wells.”

“Lady Emily, that necklace would upstage the queen herself. The sapphires make your eyes flash the same color as the stones. It's almost like you're more goddess than woman.”

“You have been reading Homer, haven't you, Meg?”

“Yes, milady. You did give me the book. Can't say I like that Achilles bloke much. I find myself wishing I could give him a good slap and force him out of his tent.”

“I could not be more pleased.” I smiled and removed the necklace. “Bring me the lion chain instead.” I had purchased this piece in Greece, although the dealer told me it had been found in Italy. It dated from the fourth century B.C., and from the front looked like a simple, heavy gold chain. The clasp featured two golden lions, their eyes enameled in blue. In antiquity, it would have been worn with matching earrings, but, alas, they had not survived the ravages of time, so I had careful reproductions made based on the clasp, and now snapped them into place.

“You look very exotic,” Colin said, adjusting his cuff links as he came into the dressing room. “Going Greek tonight, are you?”

“I thought it more discreet than diamonds and sapphires.”

“My dear, you are so perfectly exquisite your beauty could never be described as discreet, no matter what you choose as adornment.”

Meg sighed. “Are you going to moon over her, Mr. Hargreaves, or are you going to let me finish dressing her? You're already nearly late.”

Far from being late, we were the first of our party to arrive in the dining room. After consulting with the maître d' to ascertain that the Wellses had not made any specific arrangements to the contrary, I asked that everyone be served a special cocktail, made with champagne, as soon as they reached the table. I wanted to offer a festive toast to Jeremy and his bride. The barman concocted a gorgeous drink, combining my requested bubbles with raspberry liqueur. Even Cécile, who ordinarily objected to any deviation from champagne, agreed it was delightful. When we were all gathered, I rose from my seat.

“It is with great pleasure that I raise my glass to Miss Amity Wells, the only lady on earth charming and radiant enough to tempt the Duke of Bainbridge into the bonds of matrimony. I wish you much happiness together and am honored to have been included in your celebrations.”

The others cried “Hear, Hear!” and drank with gusto. Amity's glass remained untouched, as proper etiquette demanded. One does not drink in honor of oneself. Colin stood next.

“Bainbridge and I have had our differences in the past, too numerous to count, let alone catalog, here tonight. He has publicly committed himself to the lofty goal of becoming the most useless man in England, and I must now state, for the record, that he shall never accomplish the feat. By persuading—using means I cannot begin to understand—Miss Amity Wells to agree to be his wife, he has given London society its brightest gem. No one could describe the architect of such a scheme as useless, in England or elsewhere. To Bainbridge!”

We all shouted “To Bainbridge!” and drank, yet still Amity did not touch her glass. She turned in her seat and waved for the waiter. “Could I please have something else? I cannot abide even the idea of this beverage.”

“Champagne, mademoiselle?” the waiter asked.

“Yes, of course. What else would be appropriate for toasts?” She looked directly at me as she spoke.

Mr. Wells made a speech that brought tears to his wife's eyes. Jack followed with several ribald stories about his brother, including one from the Olympics. Jack had run a race organized for the occasion to re-create the famous journey from Marathon to Athens taken by a messenger in the fifth century B.C. to bring word to the Athenians that their army had defeated the invading Persians. That ancient runner had collapsed and died after completing the task, but his modern descendants fared better. The final bit of the race took the competitors into the newly restored stadium in Athens, where Jeremy sat in the stands to cheer on his brother. Rather than remain in his seat, he rushed down and ran next to Jack during his final lap. This caused a great deal of confusion and not a little outrage, but Jeremy, undaunted, argued that he ought to have a medal for his effort, despite the fact not even Jack's pace had been good enough to secure a place at the front of the pack.