They Touched Heaven Read online

  He had been hers since he was a foal and she had chosen him herself. He had a white flash on his nose and his father had been a champion racehorse.

  As she made a fuss of him, she noticed that Robert had joined her by the fence. “We’ve a new stallion in the stables, miss. Your father’ll want to show ’im off to you tomorrow.”

  “Where is he?”

  “In ’is stall. Would you like to see ’im?”

  Temia paused. It occurred to her that perhaps her Papa would want to show him to her first and she did not wish to spoil it for him.

  “No, I will wait until tomorrow, Robert. I must get back to the house and supervise my things. I expect that Sarah is spinning like a top!”

  Robert laughed and touched his cap.

  “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, miss.”

  “Yes, indeed,” she answered happily. Nothing could please her more than the prospect of a cross-country gallop.

  *

  Temia was in for a surprise when she finally went upstairs to her bedroom. The dusty-looking wallpaper had been replaced by a far more sophisticated wallcovering and new pink silk curtains hung from the window and there was also a huge walnut wardrobe with a number of drawers.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful!” she gasped as she walked in.

  “Welcome home, Miss Temia!” exclaimed Sarah, bobbing a curtsy. “We’ve all missed you.”

  “Did Mama redecorate the room?” “Yes, miss. She spent months with the decorator, choosing all the colours and then she ordered the wardrobe from London. What do you think of it, now?”

  “I think it’s lovely. I am so glad that Mama bought me a new wardrobe – I was worried I would not be able to squeeze all my new gowns into that old one!”

  “Are they from Paris, miss?” “Yes, they are and I want you to press the burgundy silk one for tonight. I wish to make myself as attractive as possible for Papa.”

  The maid curtsied and left the room. Temia peeped into her bathroom and noticed that it all seemed clean and neat with flowers in a little vase.

  It made her feel welcome and glad to be home.

  She looked at the small rack of books she had left there before going to France.

  ‘These seem so childish now,’ she thought, picking up Charles Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare. ‘After reading Voltaire, I feel the need to improve my mind further.’

  Temia suddenly felt terribly tired from her journey and so she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. It felt as if she had only been asleep for ten minutes when Sarah was by her side calling her,

  “Wake up, miss! I need to dress you for dinner!”

  “What time is it, Sarah?”

  “It is just gone seven o’clock. You’ve been asleep for over an hour!”

  Sarah helped her into the burgundy silk dress and then set about dressing her hair and Temia had to show her how she liked it to be done in the new French style. Fortunately Sarah was a swift learner and Temia was soon viewing herself appreciatively in the pier glass.

  “Well done, Sarah,” she praised her. “You look lovely, miss,” sighed Sarah, as she stood back to admire her handiwork. Temia smiled. Her blue eyes sparkled and her fair hair seemed full of golden highlights in the glow of the candles. The sun was just setting and already the room was full of shadows.

  Then came the very familiar sound of the gong and Temia laughed to herself.

  ‘It’s been a long time since I heard that sound,’ she murmured, rising to leave the room.

  Downstairs Temia could hear that her parents were already in the dining room. “Good evening, miss!” Ridley, the butler, intoned.

  “Darling. You look incredibly lovely!” exclaimed her Mama. “Doesn’t she, Arthur?”

  “What do you think, Papa?” she asked him shyly, displaying the skirt of her gown.

  “Did I pay for that?” he asked with a wry smile.

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “And should I ask how much it cost me?”

  “No, Papa!”

  Sir Arthur smiled to himself indulgently. As if he could refuse his only daughter anything!

  “I hope you will not be bored in the country?” “Heavens no, Papa,” she answered, sitting down. “I missed Bovendon more than you will know!”

  “You have been to the stables naturally?”

  “Yes, to see Lightning! Robert tells me you have a fine new stallion?”

  Her father chuckled.

  “Yes indeed, I am very proud of Brutus!”

  “Why did you call him Brutus? I hope he doesn’t betray you in the way that Roman Senator did Caesar!”

  “Because he is such a huge brute of an animal, the name seemed appropriate.”

  “Will you take him hunting?”

  “Perhaps after I have ridden him a few times, but it’s too soon. It’s a pity as there’s a meet this weekend.” Temia’s Mama began to laugh.

  “I can tell that, if I am not careful, I am not going to be able to change the topic of conversation too easily,” she remarked with a sigh.

  “It’s a pity you don’t care for the Hunt, Mama,” said Temia, taking a sip of wine. “I would so enjoy us going out as a family.”

  “And then who would stay behind to supervise the meals? No, I prefer to stay at home organising suitable nourishment for the tired Huntsmen!”

  “And women,” corrected Temia.

  “As you have not had a chance to ride Lightning for ages, perhaps you would care to join me tomorrow when I take Brutus out for a canter?” suggested her father. “Oh, yes! I would love that,” agreed Temia. “I so long to ride Lightning again.”

  “Then, it’s settled. I shall ask Robert to make them ready for half-past ten and then we shall ride to the river and back. We will return for luncheon and you can tell me what you think of my latest purchase.”

  Temia was so excited that she could barely contain herself. The next day could not come soon enough for her.

  “And the ball, Mama. Is it to be at the weekend?”

  “Yes, dearest. Tomorrow I will show you the menu and we can then discuss the band. Signor Duttini will not disappoint you. He comes from Italy. The Italians have a certain flair, I always think.”

  “Mama, I do believe that you are just the tiniest bit in love with Signor Duttini!” teased Temia. “Papa, you shall have to be on your guard on the evening of the ball!”

  “I just have eyes for the one man, Temia. Twenty-seven years we have been married and not a day goes by when I do not thank the Good Lord for allowing me to be such a fortunate woman.”

  “You were younger than me when you met Papa, were you not?”

  “Yes, I was barely twenty.”

  “I am in no hurry to marry,” admitted Temia. “I want to marry for love when the time comes and it must be a perfect love, like yours and Papa’s.”

  Temia could have sworn that at very that moment, something like a shadow crossed her mother’s face, but it was so fleeting that no sooner than she thought she had glimpsed it, it disappeared.

  *

  Temia stayed up for as long as she could, but soon her eyes grew heavy and she could think of nothing but climbing into her bed.

  Kissing her parents goodnight, she went upstairs and, after Sarah had undressed her, she jumped into bed.

  But downstairs in the drawing room, the scene was very different – “You did not tell her about Lord Alphonse, then,” muttered Lady Brandon, sipping her brandy sparingly.

  “It did not seem the right time, Alice,” answered Sir Arthur, staring into the fire as the embers died down.

  “We must broach the subject sooner or later.”

  “What – that her father is being made a fool of by a man who has no compunction in taking the moral high ground when there is none to be taken?”

  “He cannot continue taking horses and not paying for them. There is the expense and he insists on having the best. Heaven only knows how long you will be able to keep Brutus once he sets eyes on him.”

  “He cann
ot have Brutus!” grated Sir Arthur. “But he has already made comments that he would like Lightning.”

  “If the time does come, we shall have to consider it carefully,” he sighed, “we cannot afford to rock the boat with him too much, Alice. He is such a loose cannon and I cannot be certain he will not reveal – a certain matter.”

  At the mention of that, Lady Brandon began to cry. “Why are we being made to pay for something that is ancient history?” she sobbed, dabbing at her eyes.

  Sir Arthur went over to her and put his arm around his wife in an attempt to comfort her.

  “Is it not enough that we lost our only son?”

  “Men such as he have no morals, dearest,” said Sir Arthur, his face setting into a steely mask. But even as he comforted her, he knew that Lord Alphonse was not about to disappear in a puff of smoke, no matter how dearly he wished it.

  *

  Next morning, Temia could not wait for breakfast to finish so that she could run out to the stables.

  Lightning was waiting for her and she gave him a sugar lump as Robert saddled up Brutus for her father.

  Sir Arthur came striding out, looking very dapper in his riding habit. “I promised you he was a fine beast, Temia,” he boasted, as he mounted Brutus proudly.

  “He is indeed, Papa. He looks as if he is rather spirited. Perhaps, too much so for me!”

  “I would not let anyone else ride him, Temia,” said Sir Arthur, grimly contemplating the dreadful prospect of Lord Alphonse attempting to lay claim to him. “He is feisty, that much is for certain. This is only the third time that I have taken him out for a long ride, so we shall see if he behaves himself.”

  They were soon striking out across the countryside. Autumn was already showing itself in the hints of red that touched the trees and bushes and Temia thought that it would not be long before there were no leaves and their branches would be bare.

  They chatted easily in between gallops and, as they reached the river and stopped for a rest, Temia suddenly seized on the idea of mentioning Les Jolies Mademoiselles to her father.

  “Papa, this ball we are holding – would it not be wonderful if we had some really fanciful entertainment?”

  “You mean, apart from Signor Duttini’s orchestra? What would you like, dearest? If it is within my power to grant it, you know I will.”

  Temia took a deep breath and looked away, so as to appear as casual as possible.

  “Well, I noticed when we were in Kensington that there was a dance troupe playing that Mama said were the toast of London – ”

  Her father stared at her with an expression that told Temia that he was a little perturbed.

  “A dance troupe? Do you mean showgirls?”

  Temia took a deep breath. ‘If he becomes angry, then I will know that there is something behind this story!’ she said to herself.

  “Yes, in France they are not frowned upon as they are here and it might add a Continental flavour to the – ”

  “Out of the question!” interrupted her father with a face like thunder. “I can see that being in France for so long has warped your sense of what is socially acceptable.”

  And with that, he turned Brutus away from the river and galloped off in the direction of The Hall.

  ‘Well!’ said Temia to herself, a little startled. ‘I did not expect such a strong reaction to my suggestion. I can only conclude there is indeed something in Georgiana’s theory about a family secret lurking beneath all this!’

  As she spurred Lightning into action, she could not help but be even more intrigued. ‘I will get to the bottom of this,’ she determined, as she crossed the fallow fields. ‘There is obviously more to my Papa than meets the eye!’

  *

  The day of the ball arrived and Bovendon Hall was a hive of activity. Almost before dawn, the servants were making ready and extra servants had been engaged from a London agency to swell their ranks.

  Lady Brandon rose early as the first grey streaks of dawn were breaking the sky, as her maid helped her dress.

  “Hurry, Martha. The champagne will be here soon. The Master has had it shipped in especially from France.”

  “Cook is upset that you have employed a French chef to create some dishes for the buffet, my Lady.”

  “Cook should be glad of the help, Martha.” Mrs. Duff had been employed at Bovendon Hall for many years and was not getting any younger and although she was able to manage day-to-day menus, Lady Brandon had doubted her ability to cater for so many guests.

  “Oh, I expect she does really, my Lady,” answered Martha. “She must be nearly sixty if she’s a day.”

  “Even so, we don’t want to deliberately upset her, Martha. I shall have words with her later to reassure her that her position is safe until she wants to retire.”

  Lady Brandon did not wish for any trouble with the servants on today of all days – had she not already enough to deal with? Temia offered to help as she came in for breakfast, but was told to relax and not worry. But before she knew it, it was time to change. Sarah laced her into her new ball gown from Paris and between them they devised an ornate hairstyle that Temia hoped would be a sensation.

  “I don’t believe you could look any more beautiful if you tried!” gasped Sarah, as Temia stood in front of the mirror in her mauve-silk gown with a frilled underskirt. The bodice was daringly low with gathered short sleeves and she wore a pair of mauve-silk slippers to match.

  “You will have every gentleman in the ballroom wanting to dance with you, miss,” sighed Sarah, as she did up the diamond necklace around Temia’s slender throat.

  She could not wait to go down and greet her guests. And, as she did so, her mother was waiting for her with a rather cross look on her face.

  “Rather bad news, I am afraid, darling. The Earl of Wentworth has sent his apologies, as he has been detained in London and cannot come. He is one of the County’s most eligible bachelors – if a little wild.”

  “How so, Mama?”

  “He is much given to the pursuit of pleasure and it is a sinful waste of talent. The man paints exquisitely and speaks several languages. I am certain that given the right woman, he would be a reformed character – there is no bad blood there, just a fiery temper, if gossip is to be believed.”

  “That is a pity, as I should have liked to have met him,” replied Temia, taking the glass of champagne that the footman offered her. “He sounds intriguing.”

  Lady Brandon’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she regarded her daughter. In her heart she fervently hoped that tonight Temia would find romance. She was concerned that Temia was almost twenty-two and showed no signs of being interested in marriage.

  “You are so beautiful, Temia,” she murmured. The guests were now starting to arrive in increasing throngs and the carriages queued the length of the drive to discharge their glittering loads.

  Lady Brandon was soon so engaged in greeting her guests that she temporarily forgot all her concerns.

  In the ballroom Temia was quickly surrounded by young gentlemen, all eager to make her acquaintance.

  “You have deprived the County of your beauty for too long,” said one.

  “You are a vision!” exclaimed another, leading her onto the dance floor.

  “Say you will marry me or I will surely die of a broken heart!” professed another.

  Having lived for so long in France, Temia simply laughed away these idle compliments and continued to change partners with each successive dance.

  Halfway through the evening, she declared herself exhausted as she extricated herself from the arms of one, George Armstrong. “You are breaking my heart, my angel!” he cried, clutching his chest in a theatrical gesture.

  “I will return later,” she smiled at him coquettishly, “now do dance with some other young lady.”

  Temia withdrew to the anteroom where there were comfortable sofas. She smiled at the group of dowagers in the corner, who were fully occupied with the gossip of the evening – they were all chat
tering and whispering behind their fans as Temia sank down onto a chair.

  As she relaxed, she was suddenly aware of a man by the door, whose eyes were burning into her.

  For some reason she felt a distinct sense of unease.

  She glanced over at him for the merest of seconds and he took that as his cue.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she said to herself, as she watched him march towards her.

  “Hello, you are Miss Brandon, are you not?”

  “I am, but you have me at a loss, sir. I am afraid we have not met before, have we?”

  “Lord Alphonse at your service. No, we have not met, but I am a business acquaintance of your father.”

  “So, you are in the equine business?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes,” he replied, a little obliquely. “He did not tell me he had such an enchantingly beautiful daughter – but you are not dancing?”

  “I am a little tired. I have not left the dance floor since the music began.”

  “But you will dance with me, of course,” he said, with the kind of overweening confidence that Temia found quite distasteful.

  She looked up at Lord Alphonse and took in his tall figure and long face – and large nose that seemed to droop downwards. His hair was black but thinning and Temia judged him to be at least forty. All in all, there was something about him that made her feel uncomfortable. “I would like to rest awhile,” she answered quietly.

  “Nonsense! A lovely young lady like you? Come, the orchestra is playing a waltz. Grant me this one dance.”

  Temia thought that her father might be annoyed if she upset him, so she rose and took his proffered arm.

  During the waltz, Lord Alphonse pressed himself just a little bit too close to her and Temia found the whole experience rather distasteful. She could feel his growing attraction to her and, when she tried to pull herself away from his firm embrace, he moved even closer to her.

  As the music stopped, he remained holding her. “You dance divinely, Temia, and indeed you are very beautiful. Might I call on you tomorrow?”