A Heaven on Earth Page 3

  Phyllis had quickly snatched the green dress from the floor and scurried away to hang it up.

  “I thought perhaps – the green dress might be more suitable for tonight – ” Aurora had stammered.

  “Well – you thought wrong, young lady!” snorted Lady Hartnell. “Green indeed! Far too sophisticated for a girl like you. Whatever would Lord Moreton think of us? A nice innocent girlish blue would be perfect.”

  And she strode haughtily out of Aurora’s bedroom, sweeping her silk train behind her.

  “But what about Papa’s earrings?” Aurora asked Phyllis, who was now laying out the pale blue silk on the bed. “I really ought to wear them or he will be hurt, but they are green – look here, these stones are emeralds – and they won’t look at all right with blue.”

  Phyllis shook her head doubtfully and picked up the earrings, holding them up to Aurora’s ears.

  “I don’t rightly know what to say, miss. They look just perfect on you, but they surely won’t go with all that blue. ‘Blue and green should ne’er be seen’, that’s what my old grandma told me.”

  “I’ve heard that saying too, Phyllis. Blue and green are meant to be unlucky together, aren’t they? But I can’t hurt Papa. I will just have to make the best of it.”

  As Aurora was finishing her dressing, she heard the rush of carriage wheels on the drive below her window and then the sound of loud voices talking and laughing.

  She knew that Lord Moreton had just arrived.

  ‘I won’t peep out of the window,’ she told herself, even though she was longing to do so. ‘I want us both to see each other for the very first time when we meet in the drawing room!’

  Phyllis hooked her carefully into the pale blue silk.

  “It ain’t so bad, Miss Aurora. It would have looked better on Lady Hartnell when she was your age, her bein’ fair-haired, but you don’t look too bad at all.”

  Aurora had to agree when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

  Pale blue was certainly not the best colour for her complexion, but it was a good colour for a young girl to wear and she looked fresh and pretty for Christmas.

  But, as she fixed the emerald clips onto her ears, she felt uncomfortable.

  She wanted to feel just perfect for this very special dinner, and she knew that those green stones did not look right next to the dress.

  ‘I really cannot hurt Papa’s feelings,’ she reflected. ‘He will not mind what I wear, but he would be very hurt if he thought I did not appreciate his beautiful gift.’

  She did so want to look and feel absolutely perfect for the moment when Lord Moreton and she first laid eyes on each other.

  So it was with a sad heart that she swept down the staircase and made her way towards the distant sound of voices in the drawing room.

  ‘Oh, but perhaps I need not have worried so much,’ she thought as she stood in the doorway, ‘something has gone wrong and he is not here after all.’

  Her stepmother was sitting on a long sofa with her scarlet skirts spread all around her.

  Her Papa was standing near the fireplace, drinking sherry and conversing with a large man in a tight blue coat.

  As she watched from the door, the man threw back his head and gave a roar of hearty laughter, which ended in a high squeak as if he had run out of breath.

  Who could he be?

  He did not look like any of their tenant farmers, nor did she recognise him as one of her father’s neighbours.

  She stepped into the room and looked around to see if Lord Moreton, the young and handsome suitor she had been so looking forward to meeting was hiding somewhere – but there was no one else in the room.

  “Aurora, my dear!”

  Her father approached her, eyes twinkling under his bushy white eyebrows,

  “Allow me to introduce my dearest daughter,” he continued, turning towards the large man in the blue coat and drawing him forward.

  The man stepped forward and bowed, and as he did so, Aurora noticed that he had a large bald patch on top of his head that he had obviously tried to disguise by combing his straggling brown hair over it.

  Aurora dropped a curtsy and found her hand caught in the man’s damp warm fist, as he raised her back to an upright position.

  “Enchanté!” the man said with a slight lisp.

  He smiled at her, wiping a large white handkerchief over his round face and heavy jowls, which were shiny with sweat from standing so close to the fire.

  “That’s French for ‘pleased to meet you’,” he went on and laughed loudly again, ending on the same breathless squeak.

  Aurora took a step back and retrieved her hand.

  This strange person was behaving most oddly and she wondered if he might be a London acquaintance of her stepmother come to join them for the evening.

  He looked to be of an age with Lady Hartnell.

  “I thought that you might appreciate my use of the French phrase,” he lisped, pursing his red lips into a bow, “as you are fresh from school in Paris, so they tell me.”

  Aurora looked round helplessly at her Papa.

  Thank goodness Lord Moreton had not arrived yet, as she would hate his first sight of her to be in conversation with this shiny-faced middle-aged creature.

  Papa was smiling encouragingly at her, raising his white brows in a meaningful way and the large man was showing no signs of moving away from her.

  His little beady eyes were fixed on Aurora in a very unpleasant manner as if he was trying to memorise every small detail of her face.

  “There’s no need to be coy, Aurora,” came in Lady Hartnell from her perch on the sofa, “you knew that Lord Moreton would be joining us for dinner.”

  Aurora felt her mouth drop open with shock.

  She had to struggle to stop herself from gaping like a goldfish as she stood there, rooted to the spot on the drawing room carpet.

  “Have you nothing to say for yourself?” added her father. “We don’t usually find you at a loss for words.”

  Aurora was saved from having to make a reply by the entry of Treginnis, who loudly announced dinner.

  She found herself on the arm of Lord Moreton, her hand placed on the slippery blue velvet of his coat, as the four of them made their way into the green and white glory of the dining room.

  “Well,” intoned Lord Moreton, “no expense spared here – that’s what I like to see.”

  Aurora noticed how he lisped again and she quickly detached herself from his arm and sat down at her place.

  “Yet another instance of your amazing good taste, Lady Hartnell,” Lord Moreton rambled on, surveying the gleaming table. “Charming, perfectly charming!”

  Aurora felt relieved that he did not appear to have seen that she had been in a rush to move away from him.

  Now he was smiling and looking at Lady Hartnell in a somewhat familiar way.

  Aurora wondered if her father had noticed this too, but he was busy fussing over his chair and asking Treginnis to bring him another cushion for his back.

  “Are you all right, Papa?” she asked softly, noticing that he was looking rather grey in the face.

  “Naturally, my dear,” he answered her quickly. “You are neglecting our guest! Where are your manners?”

  Aurora took a deep breath and then applied herself to making polite conversation with Lord Moreton, which was very difficult as he seemed to have little to talk about and she did not feel it was polite to keep introducing new subjects for discussion.

  What became clear was that Lord Moreton liked his food, as he consumed a great deal of every course and then passed comments on everything he had eaten.

  “Capital venison!” he declared, chewing heartily. “And does this come from your estate, Lord Hartnell?”

  Lord Hartnell nodded.

  “I must acquire some deer for the Park at Elton Manor as soon as may be,” said Lord Moreton, wiping his mouth after clearing his plate completely, and, once again, Aurora saw him catch Lady Hartnell’s eye.
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  Aurora could not touch her food and was reduced to moving it around her plate so that no one would notice, but this did not escape Lord Moreton’s attention.

  “Your daughter has a poor appetite,” he remarked, watching her toying with a small helping of dessert. “We must put that to rights as soon as may be!”

  “And so what would you have in mind to tempt Aurora?” enquired Lady Hartnell, looking around for Treginnis to serve her a second helping of trifle.

  “Aha!” Lord Moreton replied with one of his little breathless squeaks, “I expect she is missing the fine French cuisine she got used to on the continent. I’d like to wager she wouldn’t turn her nose up at a dinner from my chef. He’s French! I have nothing but the best at Elton Manor.”

  “We should just love to sample his cuisine,” cooed Lady Hartnell smiling at Lord Moreton.

  “Then we shall arrange it soon,” he smiled back at her.

  “And now, my dear, I think it is that time we ladies retired and left the gentlemen to their port and cigars,” said Lady Hartnell as dinner drew to a close.

  Aurora followed her into the drawing room feeling uneasy. Her usually brisk stepmother seemed in such cheerful spirits and she could not understand why.

  Lady Hartnell was smiling away to herself and half breaking into laughter.

  Aurora was glad to find her sewing basket and took out her embroidery to while away the time till the gentlemen came to join them.

  But when the time came, Lord Moreton alone burst into the drawing room, his shiny face flushed red from the port and his handkerchief flapping in his hand.

  Swiftly Lady Hartnell rose from her chair.

  “I must go to my husband,” she said, giving Lord Moreton a sideways look, “and make sure that he has all he needs. He has been most out of sorts over Christmas.”

  With that Lady Hartnell left the room in a swirl of red skirts and Aurora was left alone with Lord Moreton.

  She had been longing for and dreaming about this moment since Christmas Eve, but now it had come, she did not know where to look.

  She only wished that she could be somewhere else – a long way from the drawing room of Hadleigh Hall.

  The portly Lord Moreton then approached her and staggered clumsily down onto one knee, as he pulled a long slim velvet case from the pocket of his blue coat.

  “This may seem surprising, unforeseen, hasty even – ” he began, and Aurora wished he did not lisp so badly or at least would choose words without so many s’s in them.

  He seemed to be struggling to express himself as he wiped his face with his handkerchief before continuing,

  “Our short acquaintance, however, has proved no hindrance in the increase of my affection, which already, from my conversations with your dear mother and father, had begun to blossom – ”

  ‘Oh, let him just propose,’ thought Aurora, ‘and I can say ‘no’ right away!’

  He held out the velvet case and opened it.

  Inside was an emerald necklace, a perfect match for the earrings that Papa had given her for Christmas.

  “Here is a small token of my esteem – my deepest regard for your lovely self.”

  Aurora’s heart turned over.

  The necklace was very beautiful and she knew that it would look just perfect if she was to wear it. How had he known that it would be so right for her?

  And then to her horror, she heard the words,

  “ – ask you to be my wife!” coming in a rush from Lord Moreton’s mouth, as he dangled the necklace in front of her.

  What should she do?

  She must say ‘no’ of course – she could not marry this man.

  And yet he did look rather pathetic, kneeling on the carpet in front of her, holding out the beautiful necklace of shining green emeralds.

  Suddenly she realised that her own dear Papa must have helped him choose the necklace and that was why he had been so pleased that she had liked his Christmas gift of the matching earrings.

  The situation was indeed a difficult one.

  Lord Moreton seemed sincere, as he stumbled over his words in his nervousness, and the lovely necklace had clearly cost him a great deal of money.

  And Papa had told her so many times that he was in favour of the match and would be very proud of her if she became Lady Moreton.

  ‘I must be careful,’ she told herself, ‘and I must not upset this man – that would be rude and impolite.’

  “This has been very sudden,” she said slowly, “and I must have some time to think.”

  “But – surely,” he stammered, “you cannot hesitate. I am the – closest friend of your dear Mama and Papa. Our estates run side by side! And I am a wealthy man – you shall have every luxury you desire.”

  “Yes – ” murmured Aurora.

  “Ah! Yes, then, is your answer, as I knew it should be!”

  Lord Moreton was now struggling onto his feet, a smile widening on his round face.

  “No!” countered Aurora. “I was only agreeing with what you said just then – not agreeing to marry you! I must have some time to think.”

  Lord Moreton wiped his brow again.

  “Every luxury,” he repeated. “A French chef, all the dresses you could possibly wear – ”

  “You are very kind,” she said again. “But you must allow me a little time – ”

  “To get used to the idea. Of course. But please, as a token of my esteem – ”

  And then he thrust the emerald necklace at her.

  “No, no! I couldn’t possibly!” she cried, trying to give it back to him.

  “Do me the honour, Aurora, I beg of you! Then at least I may know that you have some affection for me and that you will consider my proposal with respect.”

  “Of course I respect your proposal, but I cannot take something so valuable,” persisted Aurora and tried again to hand back the necklace.

  “It belongs to you,” he exclaimed. “Your father and I chose it together. You must accept it!”

  He was becoming quite agitated and Aurora longed for him to leave her alone in the drawing room so that she could try and puzzle out what she should do next.

  “Just how can you not understand the depth of my feeling for you?” Lord Moreton continued. “How can you so insult me as to refuse this gift? You seem so heartless and yet your father said you are a kind and thoughtful girl.”

  “I don’t want to upset you,” replied Aurora quickly. “If it means so much to you, Lord Moreton, of course I will keep the necklace. But I must ask you to leave me now to give me time to think over what you have said.”

  To her great relief, Lord Moreton wiped his brow again and made for the door, where he bowed and assured her that he would wait for her answer to his proposal with great anticipation.

  She collapsed on the sofa clutching the necklace.

  What had she done?

  At least she had not agreed to marry the man.

  And surely as soon as she had spoken to Papa, he would understand how she felt –

  He was probably even now thinking after all he had seen of Lord Moreton at dinner that the whole engagement idea was a mistake.

  It was too late now to disturb her Papa, who would probably be settled for the night, and she decided that the whole business could wait until the next day.

  As she tiptoed upstairs to her room clutching the emerald necklace, she heard voices from a dark corner of the hall below.

  Lady Hartnell was speaking,

  “You should have tied it all up tonight, you fool!”

  “I tried, Charlotte. She wouldn’t play.”

  Was that Lord Moreton’s voice?

  Aurora leaned over the banister so that she could hear more clearly.

  “We don’t have all the time in the world, Robert! We cannot afford to delay or we will lose our little game!”

  Lady Hartnell’s whisper carried on up the stairs and Aurora shivered at the sound of it.

  “Well, don’t fret too much. She took the ne
cklace, and so the deal is almost done,” muttered Lord Moreton in a husky lisping whisper.

  There was the sound of a door opening and closing and the voices faded away.

  ‘Charlotte!’ pondered Aurora. ‘Lord Moreton is on first name terms with my stepmother? I am sure that cannot be proper.

  ‘And what does he mean ‘the deal is almost done?’ If he really thinks that I am going to marry him, he is very much mistaken.’

  As she climbed up the last of the stairs and made her way to her room, her mind was turning over and over the words she had just heard.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next morning as soon as it was light, Aurora made her way to the stable yard.

  She had to get away from Hadleigh Hall for a few hours just to collect her thoughts and try to understand the feelings that kept welling up inside her.

  Thomas, the young coachman, was sweeping up in the yard and as soon as he saw her, he straightened up and touched his cap.

  “Good mornin’, Miss Aurora,” he grinned. “You’ll be wantin’ Aleppo, I expect?”

  Aleppo had always been her dear Mama’s favourite horse, a beautiful grey Arab brought back by her Papa from his travels in Egypt.

  He was an old stallion with his frosty grey coat now turned white, but his eyes were still bright and there was a definite spring in his step – and Aurora loved to ride him.

  Thomas went off to saddle and bridle Aleppo and then led him out so that he could help Aurora mount.

  “You’ll be wantin’ me to accompany you, miss?” he asked, as it was usually his duty to follow along behind at a discreet distance when the ladies of the family went for a ride.

  “No, Thomas, thank you, not today. I am going to visit Mr. and Mrs. Westcott at Valley Farm. There will be no need for you to come with me, I shall be quite safe.”

  Aleppo cantered gaily along the green track that led to the farm and Aurora felt suddenly close to her mother, who had spent many happy times exploring the countryside on the back of the same plucky little stallion.

  ‘Oh, Mama,’ whispered Aurora, ‘what shall I do? I should feel very lucky that someone so important and wealthy wants to marry me and I should be happy and grateful – but it just doesn’t feel right.’