London Calling Page 12

  “Good news, Miss Ward?”

  Susanna looked up to find Miss Fanny watching her. She realized that she was smiling with the relief that filled her, and hastily composed her expression. “Nothing important,” she said. “Just . . . ‌just an amusing note from a friend, that is all.”

  The remainder of the afternoon was easier; Susanna took up a book on the history of China from the Admiral’s library and managed to concentrate on a few chapters before it was time to dress for the masquerade.

  Because of the size of the party, they were to take two carriages, and Susanna and Ruth, dressed in their evening’s costumes, found themselves riding with Miss Fanny and Marianne.

  Miss Fanny had declined to don a costume‌—‌“Such things are for you young people. I’m far too old to be thinking of such things.”‌—‌but Marianne was dressed in the red velvet Guinevere gown, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders. She looked a little unsure of herself, Susanna thought. But her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and she sat up straight in her seat, looking out the window with a bright, eager gaze as they moved through the darkened London streets.

  At length, they crossed Westminster Bridge, and joined the long line of carriages that crowded the road to the Vauxhall Gardens gate. When at last they entered the Gardens, Susanna caught her breath. The place appeared as a kind of fairy land, the trees strung with hundreds of colored lanterns, the various paths and walkways lighted with chains of tiny white lamps glowing like stars. In the center of a grove of trees stood the grand Rotunda, ringed by colonnades sheltering the supper boxes, in which the revelers could partake of meals of cold chicken and ham.

  They alighted from the carriage and ascended the steps of the Rotunda, which housed the dance floor and music room. Here, too, everything was ablaze with lights, the dancing flames of hundreds of wax candles showing a gorgeous pageantry of color as the guests circled and spun their way through the dances.

  There were costumes of all descriptions. Gypsies linked arms with soldiers and monks, and Charles II’s danced side by side with Queen Elizabeths and Marie Antoinettes. An orchestra played from a balustraded gallery, and the noise, coupled with the sounds of hundreds of raised voices, was nearly deafening.

  “Now, we must all put our masks on.” Mrs. Careme fixed a black satin covering over her eyes and nose, and turned to the rest of the group. She was dressed in the garb of some ancient Greek goddess, draped in a gown of filmy white that revealed her statuesque neck and shoulders, with a shining ribbon of green bound round her titian hair. She had been all but silent until then, her manner abstracted, but now she appeared to exert herself, and took the Admiral’s arm with an arch smile.

  “I hope you mean to ask me to dance.”

  Admiral Tremain stammered something and they moved off together to join the other couples on the floor.

  Over the course of the next few hours, Susanna watched the circling dancers, and herself danced twice, once with an acquaintance of her Aunt Ruth’s, and once with Major Haliday. Major Haliday wore the garb of a Spanish bullfighter, with high leather boots and glittering gold epaulets. He had, by the time Susanna danced with him, been partaking freely of the wine and punch, and, while not actually drunk, was elated enough to be extravagantly gallant as they danced their way down the line, paying her several flowery compliments and making elaborate bows.

  Which she supposed boded well for the success of her plan to lure him into the Lover’s Walk. Even if, thinking of what the Major really was and the risks he was causing James to run, Susanna’s fingers twitched with the urge to smack the admiring leer off his face.

  Mrs. Haliday did not dance, but remained seated on the sidelines with Ruth, Miss Fanny, and the other matrons and spinsters. She wore the dress of a Gypsy, and looked the part, with gold rings flashing amidst the dark masses of her hair, and a brightly patterned scarf knotted round her waist. Her face was pale and set, and she watched her husband continually with blazingly intent eyes.

  Susanna had just thanked Major Haliday‌—‌and managed even to make her voice polite‌—‌when a voice spoke at her elbow.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  She started, and looked round. “James!”

  He was masked, of course, but she recognized him at once. He was dressed as a highwayman, in a black cloak and flowing white shirt, with a pair of pistols at his belt.

  “You are here already. I was not expecting to see you—”

  She got no further. A voice, cutting across the upraised babble and chatter of the other revelers, cried out, “M. de Castres! It is Jacques de Castres, is it not?”

  Instantly, James froze. He had taken Susanna’s hand, and now he gave it a warning squeeze, at the same time, turning smoothly to meet the one who had spoken.

  Mrs. Careme came through the crowd towards them, body swaying gently to the beat of the music, one hand gracefully outstretched.

  “M. de Castres, what a pleasant surprise,” she said, as she came abreast. “I had hardly expected to see you here. But I was not aware you knew Miss Ward.” Her green gaze flicked inquiringly from one of them to the other.

  Susanna saw the corners of James’s mouth compress, but he replied smoothly, without hesitation, in an impeccable French accent.

  “But of course, Madam. I make it my business to know every charming lady. Did I not take care to make your acquaintance as soon as I arrived in this great City?”

  Mrs. Careme’s lashes fell, and she smiled.

  “And dressed as a highwayman?”

  James bowed. “I am a thief at heart, Madam. If the good Admiral Tremain is not careful to attend you as you deserve, I shall be sorely tempted to steal you away from him.”

  Mrs. Careme laughed, and James bowed again.

  “And now I must leave you.” He bent low over their hands, first Mrs. Careme’s, then Susanna’s. As he released Susanna’s fingers, he murmured, “We obviously cannot talk here. Meet me at the cascade at nine o’clock.”

  Susanna had just time to nod understanding, and then he was gone, threading his way swiftly through the jostling crowd without a backward glance.

  Mrs. Careme watched him go, a faint smile playing about the corners of her lips.

  “A very charming man, M. Jacques de Castres.”

  “Very.” In spite of herself, Susanna’s tone was dry, and Mrs. Careme gave her a sharp look.

  “Shall we go back to the others and sit down?” Susanna added hastily. “I confess I am a little tired. It must be the heat.”

  The room was hot and stuffy, which she hoped would excuse her flushed cheeks. Together, she and Mrs. Careme made their way across the dance floor to where Ruth and Mrs. Haliday were seated. Admiral Tremain sat with them, though he sprang up at once on their arrival, and, at Mrs. Careme’s request, moved off in search of glasses of punch for them all.

  Susanna seated herself beside Ruth, and drew a long breath of relief. Ruth gave her one swift look, then, fixing her eyes on the dancers, said in an undertone, “Have you seen James?”

  “Yes. I am to meet him at the cascade at nine,” Susanna replied quietly. “Do you know where that is? I hadn’t time to ask.”

  “The cascade? Yes, it is . . .”

  Ruth broke off, for Miss Fanny had caught the last words, and leaned over. “The cascade? Were you speaking of the cascade? My dear Miss Ward, you will enjoy it excessively. I saw it the last time we were here, and I have never forgotten it. I do not know when I was more amazed. Why, we must all go and see it tonight. I believe they set it off at nine. Yes, we must certainly all go. Charles, don’t you agree?” This, as Admiral Tremain rejoined the group, bearing a glass of punch for Mrs. Careme and another for Susanna.

  “We must all go to see the cascade, mustn’t we?” Miss Fanny asked again.

  Admiral Tremain gave his sister-in-law a tolerant smile. “Yes, yes, certainly we may go. I think they sound a warning bell when they’re about it set it off. We’ll keep our ears open and go out when we hear it, eh? Shou
ld be about an hour from now.”

  “You will enjoy it, I am sure, Miss Ward,” Miss Fanny went on, turning back to Susanna. “It is quite an amazing sight.”

  Susanna did her best to smile, though her heart had sunk within her. How was she to manage a meeting with James, hemmed in among the rest of her party?

  The remaining hour until nine o’clock seemed to crawl by. She did not dance again, but kept her eyes fixed on the dance floor, hoping for some glimpse of James’s dark form.

  She saw no sign of James, but to her surprise, she did catch sight of Marianne, moving with unexpected grace down the dance, escorted by a tall, earnest-looking young man in the black robes of a Catholic priest. Her face was alight with laughter, and her color bright.

  Ruth, following Susanna’s gaze, smiled and nodded. “I knew that girl had it in her to be attractive. If nothing else, I intend to see that she gets a fairer chance at happiness than she has had so far, poor thing.”

  At long last, the hour drew near to nine, and from somewhere outside in the Gardens, Susanna caught the peal of a bell. On that signal, many of the other dancers elected to leave the ballroom. Susanna, together with the rest of the Tremain party, was swept along on the tide of the crowd as the guests spilled out and onto the lawns.

  The weather that day had continued unseasonably warm, and the air was still balmy, with a breath of gentle breeze murmuring through the trees. Mrs. Haliday had elected to remain behind, while her husband had professed himself bored with such amusements. Marianne was, presumably, still dancing, but Susanna, Ruth, and Miss Fanny, together with Admiral Tremain and Mrs. Careme, made their way along one of the lighted walkways.

  If she had not been so much in the grip of nervous tension, Susanna would have enjoyed the walk. The Gardens were lovely, the trees hung with hundreds of glowing oil lanterns, the way lined with cleverly constructed mock temples and grottos, with moss-grown ruins artistically arranged among groves of high Spanish oaks and chestnuts. There were paintings of gods and goddesses, lit from behind by more colored lights, and others of landscapes, showing the craggy peaks of the Alps and the spindly trees and blasted trunks of the Greek countryside.

  Susanna followed the crowd to a hollow, where there hung another painted landscape, showing a rolling green hillside, on which a shepherd piped a tune to his flock of sheep.

  “That will lift up in a moment,” Miss Fanny whispered in her ear. “And then you’ll see the cascade.”

  Susanna nodded mechanically. Her eyes were scanning the crowd for James, but she saw not a sign of him. Then another bell sounded, and a murmur of excitement went round the crowd, followed by an expectant hush.

  The painted canvas began to rise, and at that moment, someone placed a firm hand on Susanna’s wrist, and a voice in her ear said, “Don’t turn round.”

  Susanna drew in her breath sharply, but resisted the impulse to turn, and the voice‌—‌James’s voice‌—‌went on.

  “Don’t speak, either. Just nod your head. Understand?” She nodded, and James gave her fingers a brief squeeze of approval.

  “Good. Major Haliday is here? You can get him to the Lover’s Walk?”

  Susanna nodded, and felt James give a breath of relief. “Good,” he said again. “And you think he’ll come?” Another nod, and another squeeze of her hand.

  “All right, then. I’ll meet you at midnight.”

  Susanna nodded to show she understood, and, with a final clasp of the hand, James moved away‌—‌where, she couldn’t tell‌—‌off into the crowd.

  She glanced a little nervously at Miss Fanny, standing to her right, and Mrs. Careme, a little distance to the left, but their eyes‌—‌and those of the rest of the party‌—‌were fixed on the scene before them. Susanna sighed and relaxed. They had apparently noticed nothing.

  The spectacle was certainly one to capture the attention. A mountain, some four feet high, stood beneath the arch of a rainbow, with waving palm trees planted on either side, and a swift river of water running over the whole and into a pool below, where it foamed up, and then ran swiftly away.

  As Susanna watched, the water slowed to a trickle and stopped, and the painted landscape descended once more.

  Miss Fanny, beside her, drew in her breath with a sigh of satisfaction.

  “So lovely, is it not? Though not quite as impressive as some years. I remember once when I was a girl, they had a miller’s house, and the water turned a little waterwheel. And someone told me they once staged a storm, and blew the thatch right off of a group of cottages. Still, this was very pretty, all the same. And now, what do you say to watching the tightrope demonstration? I’m told it is quite amazing.”

  They watched the tightrope walkers‌—‌a pair of ladies in spangled pink tights‌—‌and then ate in one of the supper boxes ranged round the main square. The pavilion was lit from above by wax candles, and the walls showed a group of men and ladies in the long-waisted lace gowns and tri-cornered hats of a generation back, all playing at blindman’s bluff on a grassy lawn. Admiral Tremain huffed and grumbled over the food when it arrived.

  “They call this a chicken? Why, it’s no bigger than a sparrow. And the ham‌—‌it’s sliced thin as muslin.”

  Marianne arrived a little out of breath after the rest of the party was seated, accompanied by the earnest-looking young man Susanna had seen her dancing with earlier.

  Admiral Tremain’s brows drew together in a ponderous frown. “Where have you been, Marianne? I expect you to remain with your own party and not go wandering off on your own.”

  Marianne’s face darkened, the old, sullen look of resentment settling again over her features, but before she could reply, Ruth cut in swiftly.

  “I was so glad to see you enjoying yourself, my dear. And now, pray, won’t you introduce us to your companion?”

  She glanced inquiringly from Marianne to the young man and smiled.

  Marianne hesitated a moment. Then, a little awkwardly: “This is Mr. Foster. I was at school with his sister.”

  “Mr. Foster, I am delighted to meet you.” Ruth gave him her hand, and he bowed over it, stammering a little as he replied.

  “And I you, ma’am.”

  Seen up close, he was handsome in a shy, unassuming way, with pleasant features, a shock of fair hair, and very blue eyes. He shook hands all round, murmuring conventional greetings, but when he reached Mrs. Careme, she held his hand a fraction of a second longer than was necessary, and smiled beguilingly up into his face.

  “I must thank you for looking after Marianne, Mr. Foster. It’s such a relief to her father and me, to know that she’s being taken care of.”

  Her words relegated Marianne to the school room, and Susanna saw the girl’s lips tighten angrily.

  “You must come and see us sometime,” Mrs. Careme went on. She still held Mr. Foster’s hand, and leaned forward as she spoke, smiling her bewitching smile.

  Color swept up from under the young man’s collar to the roots of his fair hair.

  “Thank you. I . . . ‌I’d like that very much,” he stammered. He turned back to Marianne.

  “Thank you for the dance,” he said.

  Marianne’s face was stony. “You’re quite welcome.”

  Mr. Foster looked a little taken aback. “I’ll call on you sometime, if I may.”

  Marianne’s expression didn’t alter, and when she replied, her voice was hard. “Pray, don’t trouble yourself on my account,” she said tightly.

  Mr. Foster looked helplessly from Marianne to Mrs. Careme and back again. “I’ll say goodnight, then.”

  He moved off across the lawn. Mrs. Careme settled herself in her chair with a small, satisfied smile, and Marianne, eyes suspiciously bright, lips compressed, sat down in the seat beside Susanna, in a corner of the box.

  “You were not very encouraging, just now,” Susanna said. The rest of the party was absorbed in some conversation of their own, so that she was able to speak without being overheard.

  �
��Encouraging?” Marianne repeated. “Encouraging?”

  “Yes‌—‌I shouldn’t think he’ll have the nerve to call on you at all, now.”

  “Call on me?” Marianne fairly bit off the words. “He wouldn’t be calling on me. He would be calling on her‌—‌on Mrs. Careme. You must have seen the way he was ogling her.”

  “I saw no such thing,” Susanna said. “I saw her ogling him, plainly enough, but anyone could see he had eyes only for you. And if you think any differently, you’re just being silly.”

  Marianne stared at her in astonishment for a moment, and then she said, gruffly. “You really think so?”

  Susanna smiled. “Yes, I honestly do.”

  A wave of color swept over Marianne’s face. Then, she started, and looked dismayed.

  “Oh, but I’ve just sent him away. What if he thinks I don’t want to see him?”

  “He has not left yet. I doubt that he will go home before the fireworks. You might just happen to meet him when we all go to see the displays, and make it clear that you’d be very pleased to have him call.”

  “Yes, I suppose I might.” Marianne actually smiled. And though she spoke little during the remainder of the meal, her face bore a glow of unaccustomed pleasure.

  Susanna, too, was quiet throughout, though in her case the silence was occasioned by nerves rather than happiness. She was counting the moments that must pass until midnight. And watching Major Haliday, who was drinking glass after glass of wine. His face was growing red, his eyes bleared. Which also might bode well for James being able to frighten the truth out of him‌—‌but only if the Major did not drink himself into a stupor first.

  At length, the meal concluded, and a steady stream of guests began to appear from all areas of the Gardens, making their way towards the main lawn where the illuminations and fireworks were to take place. Susanna saw Major Haliday drain the last of the wine from his glass, and her heart began to thump hard in her chest.

  When the rest of the party rose, she caught Ruth’s gaze and nodded once. Immediately, Ruth moved to Helen Haliday’s side and began speaking‌—‌something about the dresses of a party of extremely fashionable ladies nearby; Susanna overheard Ruth say, “At once expensively and nakedly dressed‌—‌quite a triumph.”