Sherida, page 12
'But what about Aunt Fanny?'
'It would never do to tell my mother. She would upset all in her wild efforts to see that neither of us came to harm! You and she must carry on just as usual, as though nothing in the world had occurred to upset you, in fact. You have plenty of invitations; take them up!'
'There's a masquerade at the Billings', Almack's, and then Aunt Fanny has a card party at the Jerseys' and I am promised to Lord Lothbury. He is making up a party to go first to the theatre and then out to supper somewhere. I suppose an attempt might be made at any of those functions?'
He regarded her frowningly for a moment. 'You could be right, but I don't think so. The last attempt was too nearly disastrous for the murderer to risk blundering again. After all, someone might have spotted the guilty party sneaking down the stairs after the attempt, but not recognising it for an attempt, would naturally say nothing.'
She nodded. 'Yes, I understand you, I think. If something of a similar nature occurred again, questions might be asked. Very well, what is our next move?'
'Why, to inform all our acquaintance that I shall be away for several days; I shall make a point of telling both your aunts and cousins that I am to see Jobson. I think this will seriously worry someone, and another attempt will be made; this time, we shall be ready! Are you willing to come with me now, to the Tilneys and the Winyards, or do you have other plans for the rest of the morning?'
'But we've only just arrived home from the Winyards. won't it seem strange to go back there so soon?'
He smiled. 'Yes, it will; all the more reason, perhaps, for our return! I want your aunts and cousins to worry about my going into Norfolk!'
In the event, their visits were paid after luncheon, for Lady McNaughton showed such distress that Greville, who had been in bed for three days, might go out in his phaeton or even the barouche without a meal inside him, that they judged it wisest to assure her ladyship that they were in no hurry, and delayed their departure accordingly.
Sherida, glad of the opportunity to change her morning-dress for something more becoming, joined his lordship outside the front door, crisp and cool in green and white tafetta, her face framed by a chip-straw bonnet which tied under her left ear in a froth of green silk ribbons.
'Neat as a pin, Miss Winyard, and complete to a shade,' his lordship said approvingly. 'We'll go first to the Winyards, I think.'
They arrived at the Winyards house to find the family assembled in the hall, about to go off to the Botanical Gardens in the barouche, but they professed delight to see Lord McNaughton so soon, and ushered them into the library to discuss which of the balls, routs and assemblies they might meet at, during the course of the next few days.
'Naturally, we refused all invitations while your lordship was ill in our house,' Aunt Bertha explained. 'But now that you are better, we thought we ought to socialise once more, for dear Dolly's sake. After all, the child is only here for a few weeks before returning to Norfolk to prepare for the wedding, so I feel she should make the most of her stay in London.'
'Oh, that reminds me, have you any commissions for Lord McNaughton, Aunt? He is going down to Norwich tomorrow for a few days,' Sherida said innocently. Her aunt, looking a little surprised, said that that would be scarcely necessary, since they had barely returned from Norfolk themselves above a week.
'What are you doing down there, McNaughton?' Sir Frederick enquired jovially. 'Can't make head nor tail of Sherida's agent's report, I'll warrant!'
'No, I probably shan't be visiting Knighton,' Lord McNaughton replied easily. 'I want to see Jobson about one or two things. His office is on Castle Meadow, I understand. A strange name for a street!'
'Aye, that's right. You can't miss the street, for it is opposite the castle itself, which stands high above the city. Well, I wish you joy of the journey, my lord, for it's a powerful long pull.'
After that, conversation turned to other subjects, and they left shortly, since they had other calls to make.
The Tilneys were in, and Roland and Diane welcomed them heartily and were full of solicitude for Lord McNaughton's injury, though Sherida thought her aunt a little abstracted and quieter than usual. She avoided her niece> eyes, but almost every time Sherida glanced towards her, her eyes were fixed on Lord McNaughton with a thoughtful expression in their depths.
'Aunt Caroline couldn't take her eyes off you,' she announced gleefully as they set off homewards once more. 'When you told her you were going to Norwich, what did she say? I was asking Diane about their masquerade; they are uncertain whether to hold it after all. But they want us to join them for another evening at Vauxhall. It seems there is a famous soprano singing there. I begin to think it must be my aunt!'
She was only half-laughing, but he grinned at her. 'When I mentioned I was going to see Jobson she gave me a hard look and said "very wise!" I begin to think it cannot be she! But we must see who falls into our trap.'
'As long as it isn't me,' Sherida said. 'Be sure you don't let this trap go wrong Lord McNaughton, so that I'm victim as well as bait!'
He looked at her seriously, the smile quite banished, an expression in his eyes which drove all thoughts of murder out of Sherida's head and made her heart hammer in her breast. But all he said was, 'I'll see you safe,' and then, lightly, 'And when all this anxiety is over, I shall take you to a public masquerade, a very vulgar and shocking thing to do! One goes masked and disguised, of course, and enjoys the romp without taking too active a part in it. And after that, Astley's will be open. You'll enjoy that! The equestriennes are unequalled, and the spectacles amazing.'
'Well, that heartens me for the ordeal ahead,' Sherida returned lightly. 'When do you leave for Norwich, sir?'
'Tomorrow. Nothing much transpired this morning in the way of invitations—Vauxhall was too vague, no date was mentioned, was it, but I am sure something will crop up once I am thought to be out of the way. You won't forget to let me know your every movement? Promise?'
'Considering it's my life which depends upon it, I think you may safely assume I'll not forget,' Sherida said with mock indignation. 'And now we'd best talk about something else, for we are turning into Albemarle Street, and if your mamma knew about this…'
'It would never do, would it? Even a whisper of such perfidy would have her locking you in your room and making dreadful accusations to your relatives, I'm sure of it!'
'And since I am to bait the trap, that would never do,' Sherida concluded.
The carriage drew to a halt and he helped her down on to the flagway. 'My poor child! Would you prefer it if I took Mamma into our confidence and confined you to the house with an imaginary epidemic cold for a few days whilst I went to Norwich in all truth, to see what I could discover? Only I fear it might not stop the attempts on your life.'
He stood facing her, his hands on hers, a quizzical brow lifted. Sherida, flushing, shook her head decidedly. 'Goodness no, I am not such a coward as to think that would solve your problem! I am very sure that this torment will only be ended by catching someone in the act of trying to… well kill me.'
He nodded, and led the way into the house but in the hall, turned back to her abruptly. 'Miss Winyard! Keep Nip by you!'
'I will.'
She proceeded to climb the stairs towards the drawing room where, by now, Lady McNaughton should be, having completed her shopping, but as she reached the head of the flight she glanced back. He was still standing with one hand on the study door, but he was looking up at her. The angle at which the light fell on him threw the scar into prominence, giving him once more that cynical, brooding look which she had not seen on his face for many weeks. Then he had turned and was gone, leaving her staring down into the empty hall.
CHAPTER NINE
'Is Lord McNaughton back from Norfolk yet, cousin?'
Sherida, now a veteran of the waltz, completed her twirl before assuring Roland composedly that he was not; scarcely could be, in fact, since it would take him the best part of two days to reach the city, and two days to complete the return journey.
'He cannot drive himself, for his shoulder is still bandaged,' she explained as they walked off the floor to join the family party. 'But the jolting and swaying of a stage-coach is not good for mending a broken bone either, so he will be driven down quietly by Lady McNaughton's coachman in the big travelling coach, and will break the journey at Newmarket, or Royston. But I daresay he'll be back by the end of the week. Why, Roland?'
They were at Almack's with Bertram and Dolly, Diane and Mr Unwin, and Aunts Caroline and Bertha, and Sherida noted with approval that the aunts seemed to be getting on much better and had, at that moment, their heads together over the best place to buy a really fashionable bonnet.
Continuing their conversation as he pulled up a chair for his partner, Roland said, 'Because of our expedition to Vauxhall, cousin! If Lord McNaughton is still away, then it would be pleasant for you to come with Diane, myself, and Unwin. And we thought Mamma might be accompanied by Sir Edward Daventry, an old friend. Quite a little party, you see! How about tomorrow night?'
The elder ladies, having settled on the Pantheon Bazaar as quite the cheapest place for bonnet trimmings, turned their attention to the discussion.
'Tomorrow night is the Jerseys' card party,' Lady Tilney said reproachfully. 'I had hoped to attend that, Roland dear!'
'And so you shall. Aunt Caroline,' Sherida said at once, 'for I am promised to Lord Lothbury. He is taking a party to see Edmund Kean, at Drury Lane! I am greatly looking forward to it.'
'Well, upon the following evening then? Have you any engagement?'
Sherida smiled up at Roland, trying to forget that this might be the trap. 'Nothing that I cannot break, cousin! But should I invite Lady McNaughton, or is this to be a family party once more?'
He hesitated, but said punctiliously, 'Certainly, if she wishes to come! But I had thought… that is…'
'Well, I am fairly sure that she already has engagements for that evening,' Sherida said, taking pity on his confusion. 'Thank you very much, Roland, I shall be happy to join your party,' she added, dimpling at him.
Aunt Caroline said comfortably, 'Very prettily said, niece! And tell Lady McNaughton I shall take the greatest care of you, and see that you are chaperoned! Not that she need worry, I'm sure.'
Soon after this the ladies went off to play cards, and presently Roland took Sherida's arm and they went into the supper-room. Already sitting at a table, talking earnestly, were Mr Unwin and Diane, and Sherida said, 'Mr Unwin seems to be getting very particular in his attentions to Diane, does he not, Roland? Is he a good sort of young man? He seemed very pleasant, that evening at Vauxhall.'
'I think he's on the point of making a declaration,' Roland admitted. 'I am glad if that is so, for Diane is fond of him and he's an old friend of mine. And though one should not set store by such things perhaps, he is heir to a good property, in Sussex. I believe he will speak to Di before he says anything to me, but he's made his feelings clear already, in his own way.' He paused, gazing down at her with his soulful eyes. 'How nice it would be, coz, if Diane and I might announce our engagements at the same time!'
She could not escape his meaning, but she replied as lightly as she could, 'I didn't know you were about to become engaged, Roland, but then I don't know you terribly well yet, do I? Who's the lucky young lady?'
'You little devil!' he said appreciatively. 'Why do you think I plot and contrive to get you to myself for five minutes? Meet me in the park tomorrow, before breakfast, and I'll whisper the name in your ear!'
'Early? You'd not much like that, for Diane has told me how fond you are of your bed!'
He protested that he had managed to wake early enough on the previous occasion when he had met her in the park, and that for another assignation of a similar nature he would rise earlier still, at dawn if necessary, but she only laughed and he did not pursue the subject.
'So it is settled then?' he asked her as he saw her to her front door later that night. 'I will call for you here, and we shall go to Vauxhall and hear the new singer, whose voice is said to rival Catalini. And then we will dance, and walk, and eat supper in the booth.'
'I shall look forward to it,' Sherida said politely, though with doubtful sincerity, and went indoors to compose a note for Lord McNaughton.
What does one wear to foil a murder attempt in? Sherida asked herself with mordant humour, eyeing her gowns just before she was to dress for her evening at Vauxhall. Lady McNaughton, looking very fetching in rose-coloured silk, with a wrap of palest pink and silver taffeta, had left some time before with her escort, to join a party of friends who were visiting the opera. She had said gaily, as she popped in to bid her ward enjoy her evening, 'The weather is so delightful, my love, that you could wear your flimsiest gown with impunity.'
But if one wore one's prettiest gown to reject a proposal in, was it not being unkind to wear something so encouraging? And Sherida was fairly certain that whatever else might happen that evening, Roland would make her an offer.
Discretion might urge her to wear a dark shade, but her own optimistic nature won, partly because the dark colours in her wardrobe were few. Instead, in a defiant mood, she chose a narrow white satin slip edged with a ruffle of lace and worn with an overdress of lemon-coloured gauze. White satin slippers, pearls, and three yellow rosebuds in her hair completed her toilet. Cora, smiling at her mistress's appearance, adjusted the rosebuds in the knot of hair on the crown of Sherida's head, gave one last touch to the glossy ringlets depending from it, and stood back to admire her handiwork.
'Many a beauty has bemoaned that yeller is a cruel colour to be fashionable in,' she remarked to Sherida's reflection in the mirror. 'Blondes say it makes their hair look dull or dark, girls with dark complexions say it makes 'em look darker, and those young ladies blessed with a high colour say it turns roses into peonies. But you, Miss, if I might say so, can wear it to the manner born.'
'Yes, I do you credit,' Sherida acknowledged with a mischievous smile at the maid's somewhat dour expression. 'Thank you, dear Cora! And now I'd best go downstairs to await Sir Roland; I don't want him to keep his horses standing on my account!'
She had barely arrived downstairs, however, before Roland was at the door, and bowing over her hand.
'You look good enough to eat, Sherida,' he declared, taking her hand and ushering her out to the waiting coach. 'Mamma and Diane are already in the carriage, and Mr Unwin and Sir Edward will meet us inside Vauxhall itself.'
They climbed into the coach, and Diane and Aunt Caroline greeted her with enthusiasm, both determined to enjoy their evening. But Sherida knew that for her, the outing would be marred by the miseries of suspicion, and by her necessarily furtive attempts to see whether Lord McNaughton had managed to find her in the crowd.
For crowded it certainly was. Within a few moments of entering the gardens and meeting Sir Edward and Mr Unwin, she realised that so far as murder attempts went, it would be very difficult indeed to find one's target amidst the shifting multi-coloured throng of fashionables.
In the pavilion, seated on a small hard chair and listening with only half her attention to the young, full-bosomed Italian who was singing her heart out on the stage, Sherida tried to glance casually at the audience. But it was impossible to see more than a fraction of those surrounding her, and in the end, she gave up the attempt and tried to concentrate on the music.
After the concert, she, Diane and Mr Unwin and Roland strolled in the grounds, whilst the older couple repaired straight to the supper box. 'Everyone is here tonight,' Roland informed her, 'just to hear that young woman. Look, coz, there's the Duke of York!' Sherida stared at the small, fat man with the red face, moving easily amongst the throng. 'He has a great air about him,' she commented at length. 'But he isn't princely, or anything of that nature, is he?'
Roland agreed that he was not princely, and then pointed out other famous people to her, keeping her amused with gentle, slightly malicious gossip about one or the other until they rejoined Lady Tilney and Sir Edward in the supper booth and sat down to their own meal.
It was whilst she was tucking into roast chicken and salad that Sherida saw Lord McNaughton— and such was her surprise that she very nearly choked. He strolled past the booth, a dark figure just outside the circle of light, but unmistakable to Sherida. He was dressed conventionally enough in blue coat, pantaloons and hessians, but when he turned a little towards her, she gasped so that a piece of chicken went down the wrong way, making her cough. For his countenance was ornamented— and obscured—by a great growth of whiskers, black and fiercely sprouting, so that, but for his walk and the well-remembered lines of his powerful figure, she must have believed herself mistaken.
No one else seemed to notice the unusually hirsute stranger, and shortly afterwards Roland begged her to walk a little way with him, and she rose gladly to her feet, hoping she might see his lordship again.
'Miss Winyard, your wrap,' the waiter called, and came after her, the lemon silk scarf over his arm. She thanked him, but it was scarcely necessary, so warm and pleasant was the night. She said as much to Roland, who had been glancing a trifle discontentedly at the people milling about on the path.
'Yes, it's very mild,' he agreed. 'Would you like to stroll along the dark wall, where there are no lanterns? It is very romantic.'
'No, thank you,' Sherida said briskly, shaking his arm slightly. 'But I would like to walk over to the lake you can just glimpse between the trees! Diane says there are beautiful red and gold fish in the waters.'
So it was beside the lake, with other couples about, and a cluster of thickly growing scented shrubs close at her back, that Roland proposed.
Sherida, fully aware that her life might well depend upon her reply, one way or the other, was a little more circumspect that she would normally have been; there was no point in courting disaster!
