Joined by Love Page 4

She had forgotten all about him, but now that she saw him again, she remembered how much she had hated dancing with him and how unpleasant it had been to feel his hand clutching at her waist.

  ‘How could I have been so stupid?’ she thought. ‘Why ever did I think that Ethel would send that young man with the sad expression? He was her beau once and anyway why would he remember me?’

  There was a commotion in the hall and Aunt Maud hurried out of the room. It must be Mr. Pargetter arriving, Lucilla thought.

  Harkness Jackson squeezed her hand a little more tightly and pulled her towards him.

  “So now, my Princess. Have you missed me?” he whispered and Lucilla caught the smell of whisky on his breath.

  She was saved from having to reply by the return of her aunt, followed by a short gentleman wearing very thick spectacles with round rims.

  Aunt Maud’s eyes were bright and her face flushed, as if she had been sitting much too close to the fire.

  “Well – we are all gathered, we may as well go in to dinner,” she intoned, sounding a little out of breath.

  Harkness passed the tip of his tongue over his lips.

  “Great,” he chuckled. “I’m as hungry as a horse.”

  And he slid Lucilla’s hand under his arm and pulled her even closer to him as they walked into the dining room after Aunt Maud and Mr. Pargetter.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Harkness Jackson raised one of Aunt Maud’s best wine glasses and looked at Lucilla.

  “A toast to you, Princess!” he drawled and drained the wine from his glass in one draught.

  ‘How dare he call me Princess!’ Lucilla thought, looking down at her plate and wishing she was anywhere but at her aunt’s dinner table.

  She might have thought herself a Russian Princess, when she wore the beautiful coat and when she wrapped the brilliant blue stole around her shoulders, but that was something very private.

  Something she only wanted to share with a person she liked, someone just like the young man she had met at Ethel’s engagement party.

  “Would you care for more beef, Mr. Jackson,” Aunt Maud asked, as the American’s plate was empty already, even though everyone else had hardly begun to eat.

  “Sure!” The bald American shoved his plate towards her. “I’ve one hell of an appetite this evening, ma’am.”

  “Hoskins will serve you, Mr. Jackson, if you wait just one moment,” Aunt Maud said, looking rather put out, and she rang the little silver bell to call the housekeeper.

  “Ah, manners, manners! Pardon me, ma’am, your kind hospitality makes me feel so at home that I clean forgot ’em!” Mr. Jackson helped himself to some more wine and raised his glass to Aunt Maud. Mrs. Hoskins, the housekeeper, came quietly into the dining room and loaded his plate with vegetables and gravy, while Mr. Pargetter, who was sitting at the head of the table, carved some thin slices from the joint of beef.

  “Don’t be shy, there, sir!” Mr. Jackson chortled. “Remember I’m from Texas! I was raised on beef steaks!”

  Mr. Pargetter glanced briefly at Aunt Maud through his round glasses and cut a few more thin slices for Mr. Jackson.

  As soon as they were on his plate, the American speared one of the slices of beef and popped it whole into his mouth.

  “It’s good,” he mumbled, chewing away, “but it’s not as good as the meat from my Texas Longhorns. I look forward, ma’am, to the day when you and Lady Lucilla sit down for dinner at Jackson’s Drift and I’ll have my sister cook prime ribs and pumpkin pie for you!”

  “How very kind,” Aunt Maud sniffed, watching as Mr. Jackson devoured his plate of roast beef. “Hoskins – will you bring another bottle of wine? Mr. Jackson’s glass is empty.”

  There was a short silence as Mr. Jackson went to work on the rest of the food on his plate.

  Then Mr. Pargetter spoke up. “You are very quiet, young Lucilla. Is something wrong?”

  Lucilla shook her head and tried to make herself smile.

  “Hey, Princess! Eat up.” Mr. Jackson intervened. “It may not be Texan, but it’s still beef, and it’ll put those English roses back in your cheeks!”

  Lucilla picked up her knife and fork and tried very hard to make herself eat some of the food in front of her, but she was not at all hungry. She felt that she could not possibly eat with Mr. Harkness Jackson sitting opposite her, staring at her with his greedy little eyes.

  Aunt Maud snorted and looked as if she was about to say something, but instead she picked up her napkin and dabbed at her lips.

  “That blue is a very charming colour on you,” Mr. Pargetter was now saying. “It brings out the colour of your eyes quite perfectly, Lucilla.”

  Harkness Jackson laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth, sir! Ain’t she just the cutest little thing?”

  “I agree,” Mr. Pargetter simpered. “Delightful.”

  “Hoskins, would you clear the plates and bring in the dessert?” Aunt Maud ordered in a cold voice. Lucilla could tell that her aunt was becoming angry and perhaps Mr. Pargetter too had noticed that something was amiss, as he turned to Aunt Maud and refilled her wine glass.

  Mr. Jackson just carried on talking.

  “These English girls are the prettiest I’ve seen,” he was saying. “My good friend, Mortimer, has just gotten himself hitched to one of them and I’m thinkin’ I could do a lot worse that follow in his footsteps – ”

  Lucilla felt herself turn hot and cold as she heard these words. Surely he could not mean that she, Lucilla, might ever consider him as a husband?

  Hoskins was now placing small dishes of meringue with raspberry sauce and cream in front of the diners.

  “Lucilla, whatever is the matter with you?” Aunt Maud admonished her sharply. “Do stop picking at your food.”

  Although meringues were normally one of Lucilla’s favourite desserts, she could do no more than break them up with her fork and move them round her plate.

  “She does look awfully pale, Maud.” Mr. Pargetter said. “Perhaps she is sickening for something.” And he coughed and raised his napkin to his face as if trying to ward off any germs that might be emanating from Lucilla.

  “Well? Lucilla?” Aunt Maud asked, frowning at her niece. “Is there something wrong?”

  Harkness Jackson was getting to his feet. “Nothin’ that a drop of this won’t cure!” he cried, as he came around the table to Lucilla and, picking up her wineglass, held it to her lips.

  Lucilla thought that she might faint if she had to taste the wine and she could not bear it that he was now touching the back of her head with one of his large hands, as he urged her to drink. “I am so sorry,” she murmured, trying to lean away from him, “but I have a terrible headache. I wonder – if I might be excused?”

  Aunt Maud’s lips became a thin line, as if she was trying to hold everything she wanted to say inside herself.

  “Of course, my dear,” she said, after a moment, in a cold voice. “If you are unwell, you must go to your room. But what a shame that Mr. Jackson has troubled to come all this way to visit us and find you indisposed.”

  Mr. Jackson patted Lucilla’s head. “Poor Princess. I’ll just have to come back another day.”

  And he stroked Lucilla’s hair, sending cold shivers down her spine.

  “I am sorry, but you must excuse me – I am not feeling at all well,” Lucilla persisted, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “You have permission to go to your room,” Aunt Maud said coldly. “And, if Mr. Jackson is able to forgive your rudeness, perhaps we will have the pleasure of seeing him here again, when you are feeling better.”

  “Why, of course!” Mr. Jackson piped up. “I should be delighted to call on you and your lovely niece, ma’am. In the meantime, Pargetter, how’s about a game of cards?”

  Lucilla rose to her feet and ducked away from the American’s heavy hand that was still resting on her head. Mr. Pargetter was looking nervous at the prospect of facing Mr. Jackson at cards and Aunt Maud’s fa
ce was rigid with disapproval. If Lucilla had not been feeling quite so unhappy, she might have found the little scene round the dinner table quite amusing, but now all she could think of was escaping to the peace and safety of her bedroom.

  She did not bother to turn up the gaslight, but lay down straight away on her bed and buried her hot cheeks in the cool soft pillow.

  But even now that she was alone, her heart beat fast with anxiety. What was it Mr. Jackson had said? That his friend Mortimer had just ‘got hitched’ to an English girl and that he, Harkness Jackson, ‘could do worse that follow in his footsteps – ’

  His words echoed round and round in her head and she then remembered the way he had gazed at her as he said them, his little grey eyes eating up her face.

  There was only one explanation for his presence at the dinner table. He was looking for an English bride, preferably one with a title and he had then decided that she, Lady Lucilla Welton, was the one.

  ‘No one could ever expect me to marry someone like that,’ she thought to herself. ‘Even Aunt Maud, who wants to be rid of me, must be able to see how ridiculous he is.’

  She held onto this thought, as it was a comforting one and after a little while, she found herself drifting off into sleep.

  *

  The next morning, Lucilla ate her porridge all on her own, as Aunt Maud did not come down to breakfast.

  “Mrs. Lewis is indisposed,” Hoskins informed her, as she poured weak tea into Lucilla’s cup. “She has a bad head and is resting.”

  Lucilla wondered how the rest of the dinner party had gone and whether or not Mr. Jackson had beaten Mr. Pargetter at cards, but she did not like to ask, as Hoskins was looking far from cheerful.

  The servants always had a lot of extra work when Aunt Maud took it upon herself to entertain.

  Lucilla had just finished her porridge, which she ate without thinking this morning, as she was so hungry and she was just sipping a cup of tea, when Hoskins returned carrying a small silver tray.

  “This came for you, my Lady,” she said and she held out the tray on which a large pink envelope lay.

  “For me?” Lucilla was surprised, as she had never yet received any mail during her stay at Aunt Maud’s. “Delivered by hand just a moment ago, my Lady,” Hoskins added.

  And there, written on the brown envelope in a large flowing hand, was Lucilla’s name.

  Inside on pink paper was a short note in the same bold handwriting,

  “Dear Lucilla,

  I can’t wait to hear how you got on last night! Why don’t you come to ours this morning and we can have a good gossip? You can even use the piano if you like, no one else does here and you play so well.

  Yours,

  Ethel.”

  Once again, Lucilla was surprised. Why was Ethel being so friendly to her, when they hardly knew each other?

  She was not at all sure if she really liked Ethel, as the purchase of the beautiful pink coat still made her feel very uncomfortable. She really did not want Ethel to do anything like that again.

  On the other hand, the idea of being able to play the wonderful piano at Lord and Lady Armstrong’s house was most appealing.

  “Do you think that my aunt would mind if I went out this morning?” she asked Hoskins. Hoskins put her head on one side. “I wouldn’t care to say, my Lady.”

  “Oh, never mind, Hoskins. I will stay here. Perhaps my aunt will need me to help her with something, if she is feeling unwell.”

  “Indeed, my Lady,” Hoskins replied. “Will you be taking your tea through to the parlour this morning?” The housekeeper looked pointedly at Lucilla’s empty porridge bowl.

  “Yes, of course, Hoskins. I shall. You may clear the table.”

  Lucilla carried her cup and saucer into the parlour and sat by the empty fireplace.

  The fire had not been lit this morning due to Aunt Maud’s indisposition and the room was feeling chilly.

  ‘I wonder why Ethel is taking such an interest in me?’ she thought. ‘For I am not really part of her Social circle.’

  She was just trying to decide whether she should take up Ethel’s offer of playing the Armstrong’s wonderful grand piano, when there was a sharp knock at the front door.

  For one awful moment, Lucilla thought that it was Harkness Jackson come to call on her. Then the parlour door opened and Hoskins showed Mr. Pargetter into the room. The little man smiled at Lucilla, peering at her over the top of his round glasses as he sat down on the chair, which faced hers.

  “Why, what an unexpected pleasure, Lucilla!” he exclaimed. “I trust you are feeling better this morning?”

  “Indeed I am, thank you, Mr. Pargetter. I am afraid it is my poor aunt who is under the weather today. She will be so disappointed to have missed you.”

  “I am sorry to hear she is unwell.” Mr. Pargetter coughed and Lucilla noticed that his cheeks were turning pink. “But – I cannot say that I am not delighted to have you all to myself.”

  Lucilla did not know quite what to say. Mr. Pargetter was staring at her in a very odd way.

  “Lucilla,” he started with a quiver in his voice. “The colour has come back into your cheeks and, I have to say, you are looking extraordinarily lovely.”

  “Please, Mr. Pargetter, there is no need – ” Lucilla rose to her feet, as she knew that she should not stay in the room while he was speaking to her like this.

  “Oh, but there is every need. You poor sweet child, I felt such sympathy for you yesterday, suffering the attentions of that brutish American fellow. If you could only know how it pained me to see the way he laid his coarse hands on your beautiful hair – ”

  To Lucilla’s utter horror, Mr. Pargetter had leapt to his feet and caught one of her tresses in his stubby fingers.

  “Dearest little Lucilla,” he muttered and raised the tress to his lips.

  Lucilla froze instantly to the spot, as she saw, over his shoulder, that Aunt Maud had come downstairs and was watching them from the doorway.

  Her face was white with anger. “Lucilla,” she called out, her eyes like chips of ice. “What are you doing?”

  Mr. Pargetter dropped the strand of Lucilla’s hair as if it was burning his fingers. “Maud, my dear! You are – feeling better!”

  “Oh, yes,” Aunt Maud replied, still glaring at Lucilla. “I am feeling quite well now. I should like a private word with my niece, Mr. Pargetter, and then I shall be delighted to entertain you for coffee. Lucilla, will you come with me?”

  Lucilla’s legs were trembling, but she followed her aunt out of the parlour and into the dining room, which still smelt faintly of roast beef from the night before.

  The moment the door was closed behind them, Aunt Maud raised her hand and Lucilla felt a stinging blow on the side of her face.

  “You despicable creature!” Aunt Maud screamed. “So this is how you repay my generosity! Now I can see exactly what I have been harbouring in my house these last months.”

  Lucilla’s head was spinning from the blow. She had never been hit before in her entire life and the shock of it, as much as the pain, made her feel giddy.

  “I am very sorry, Aunt,” she whispered, holding her hand to her cheek. “I did not mean – ” She wanted to say that it was not her fault that Mr. Pargetter had taken her by surprise, but somehow she knew that this would only make Aunt Maud even angrier.

  “Get out!” her aunt was shouting now. “I will not have you in this house when I am entertaining the man I intend to marry. Get out! And don’t come back until you have repented of your shocking behaviour.”

  Lucilla ran up to her room, struggling to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. As she threw herself down on her bed, she realised that she was still holding Ethel’s note in her hand. ‘I will go there,’ she thought, ‘as there is no one else I can turn to. I don’t really like Ethel, but I have nowhere else to go!’

  And then, unexpectedly, she found herself thinking of the young man with the brown eyes. The last tim
e she had seen him was at Lady Armstrong’s and somehow she could not help but wonder if he might be there again.

  ‘I should so like to see him and speak to him and find out why he looks so sad,’ she mused and she found that her tears were drying up and her spirits had lifted just a little. ‘I must look my best,’ she told herself and she put on her blue-and-white dress with the ruffled sleeves and then over it, the wonderful pink coat Ethel had bought for her.

  Then she ran downstairs, not daring to speak to her aunt again, who was now with Mr. Pargetter in the parlour and let herself out into the crisp and cold morning air.

  *

  When Lucilla arrived at Lady Armstrong’s mansion, Ethel came running into the hall to greet her.

  “Oh, good. It’s you, Lucilla. Mama is out and I’m going quite mad with nobody to talk to.” She ushered Lucilla into the cream-painted parlour, which was very light and airy due to the large windows that faced out over the street.

  “I’ve already rung for coffee,” she said, “so sit down and you can tell me all about last night.”

  “There is very little to tell,” Lucilla began, as the parlour maid offered her a china cup full of delicious coffee and added cream and sugar – two items rarely seen in Aunt Maud’s household. “But Ethel, I have upset my aunt quite dreadfully.”

  She explained to Ethel what had happened and Ethel burst out laughing.

  “She slapped you? Oh, that is the funniest thing I have heard for ages! I can’t wait to tell Mama!”

  “It – is not very funny for me.” Lucilla found Ethel’s laughter very unkind and she struggled to keep back the tears that welled up in her eyes as she remembered how angry her aunt had been.

  “It must have hurt, for I can still see a red mark on your face. But really, Lucilla, you should just have slapped her right back. I would have done.” Ethel was still laughing at her. “Anyway, you must tell me about last night. What happened? Harkness was over the moon when your aunt invited him!”

  “I had a bad headache at dinner,” Lucilla explained, “and I had to go to bed early.”

  “You’re making a habit of it!” Ethel was frowning now. “You will never get anywhere, Missy, if you keep leaving the fray at the crucial moment.”