Music from the Heart Page 7

  “No! No!”

  She did not wait for Mr. Archer to accompany her, but before he would say anything and, taking her hand from his, she fled through the door they had entered the dining room by and ran along the corridor and up the stairs.

  She could not put it into words, but she knew that what she was encountering, although she had not expected it, was another dangerous situation.

  Chapter Four

  Upstairs in her bedroom Ilouka sat down on the stool in front of the dressing table and waited for the tremulous beating of her heart to subside and her breath to come more easily from between her lips.

  She felt as if she had been through a deep emotional experience and it was hard to face normality and herself again.

  She knew that she had never before danced so well or had put so much feeling into her movements.

  She was aware that first it was because she was trying her best to help Mr. Archer since for his sake so much depended on her but also because she had been carried away by having an audience and especially the Earl.

  It had not been her main objective to impress him, but because she wanted to help Mr. Archer, she had somehow stepped into the part so that she became temporarily the Hungarian dancer she imagined herself to be and was no longer Ilouka Compton.

  Now she had to make the transition back to what she thought of as her ordinary prosaic self and journey to Bedfordshire to stay with an extremely disagreeable old woman because her stepsister was jealous of her.

  And yet for the moment that was the fantasy and what she had been feeling inside herself was real.

  Slowly her heartbeat returned to its normal pace and she looked at herself in the mirror opposite her. Although her eyes were shining brilliantly, she felt that her face now seemed familiar and she had actually become Ilouka again.

  Then there was a knock on the door and, thinking it was the housemaid, she called out,

  “Come in!”

  To her surprise, when the door opened, it was a footman who stood there.

  “His Lordship’s compliments, miss, and he’d be obliged if you’d join him in the salon.”

  This was something that Ilouka had somehow not expected and her first instinct was to refuse. After all she had played her part. She had entertained his Lordship’s guests and she thought that it was unreasonable of him to demand more from her.

  Then, as the words of refusal sprang to her lips, she thought that, if she did not do what he asked, perhaps it might harm Mr. Archer.

  She was quite certain in her own mind that the applause she had received from the Earl’s guests would have impressed him.

  If that was so, he would probably ask Mr. Archer to entertain his guests at other parties he gave and also might recommend him to his friends.

  However she remembered that the Earl had not applauded her as his friends had done and, if she refused to obey his request, he might in his authoritative way make Mr. Archer suffer for her omission.

  ‘It is the sort of thing he would do,’ Ilouka thought. ‘Because he thinks that everybody must obey him and he ignores our thoughts and feelings because we are of no consequence.’

  It made her angry to think such things and yet they were inescapable.

  If she was her own master, she thought, she would send a message to the Earl saying that she had fulfilled her part of the contract that he had paid for, was tired and had no wish to do anything else except retire to bed.

  Then she thought that, if she sent such a reply, it was doubtful if the footman would be brave enough to repeat it to the Earl.

  She felt herself smile at the thought of how angry the Earl would be simply because he was being defied by an actress of no stature whom he expected to be obsequiously grateful for his even noticing her.

  ‘Whatever my own feelings, I must help Mr. Archer,’ she decided.

  She realised that the footman was looking at her curiously, as if he could not understand her hesitation and, after a deliberate pause. she said,

  “Please inform his Lordship that I will join him in a few minutes.”

  “Very good, miss,” the footman replied, then with a grin he added impudently, “You’d better make ’em short. His Lordship don’t like waitin’.”

  He closed the door as he spoke and did not hear Ilouka laugh.

  Then, as she refused to be hurried, she deliberately tidied her hair and smoothed down her gown and, after quite a long look at her reflection in the mirror, she walked slowly along the passage that led to the Grand Staircase.

  As she went, she could not help thinking how horrified her mother would be if she knew what she was doing.

  It was also a pity that Muriel was not in her place to enjoy the experience of meeting a large number of gentlemen without any competition.

  The thought of Muriel made her begin to hope fervently that Lord Denton, who was now staying at The Towers, would become so enamoured of her that he would propose marriage.

  ‘If they get married quickly, I can go back home to Mama,’ she thought and knew that was what she wanted more than anything else.

  As she reached the hall, a footman went eagerly ahead of her to open the door to the salon.

  As she reached it, there was the noise of many voices and loud laughter. But, although it sounded very gay, Ilouka thought that it was not the sort of party that would be considered correct for a debutante.

  ‘But that is what I am not allowed to be,’ she excused herself.

  As the footman flung open the door, she had to force herself to lift up her chin and walk forward slowly and with a composure that she was not feeling.

  There was a distinct hush as she moved down the big room beneath the lit chandeliers and, although she felt rather shy and tried to focus her eyes, she could see nothing but a blur of faces.

  Then, almost as if he was spotlighted for her, she perceived the Earl and, standing beside him, Mr. Archer.

  Then two gentlemen began to clap and others cried out, ‘Bravo!’ as they had before and one said in a loud voice,

  “The Goddess has returned from Mount Olympus! Let’s hope she does not recognise us for the swine we undoubtedly are!”

  There was a loud roar of laughter at this, but Ilouka did not turn her head as she moved forward, fixing her eyes on Mr. Archer.

  He walked to meet her, took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said in a low voice that only she could hear.

  She knew then that she had been right in thinking that it was important for Mr. Archer.

  Still holding her hand, he drew her towards the Earl.

  “My Lord,” he said, “may I present Mademoiselle Ilouka!”

  She dropped the Earl a graceful curtsey and the Earl said in the deep voice that she had heard when she was trying to sleep,

  “I am delighted to meet you and I want to thank you for a very brilliant performance.”

  “You are very kind, my Lord.”

  When she had risen from her curtsey, she looked up into the Earl’s eyes and found that he was staring at her in a manner that somehow made her feel shyer than she was already.

  She had been right in thinking that he was overwhelming and insufferably superior.

  But she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of letting him think that he was intimidating her.

  “I have been admiring your house, my Lord,” she said in the tone that her mother would have used on such occasions, “and, although I have often heard of your superlative horses, I did not realise that you also owned such outstanding paintings.”

  She thought that for the moment she had surprised him, but he replied almost without a pause,

  “I hope I may have the pleasure of showing them to you, mademoiselle, but now my friends are anxious to meet you.”

  Ilouka realised that, while she had been talking to the Earl, his guests had crowded round her.

  Because there were so many of them and their faces were red and their eyes appraise
d her in a manner that she felt was impertinent, they seemed almost to be menacing her.

  Without really meaning to, she took a step away from them, which took her to the Earl’s side.

  As if he understood, he then suggested,

  “I think, gentlemen, it would be rather embarrassing for Mademoiselle Ilouka to meet you all at once. It would be easier if I introduced you one by one, so that you each have a chance of conversing with her.”

  “I would prefer to dance with her!” one guest replied and another gentleman retorted,

  “That is only because you want to get your arms round her, Alec.”

  As this was a way that Ilouka knew no gentleman would have spoken in her mother’s drawing room, she stiffened.

  Because she suddenly had no wish to be left all alone with men whom she thought had been drinking too much and were still holding glasses of wine in their hands, she said to the Earl,

  “I am somewhat tired, my Lord. We have been travelling now for two days and I would prefer, if it is possible, to talk to you alone.”

  As she spoke, she thought it might be the one opportunity she would have of putting in a good word for Mr. Archer.

  “The choice, of course, is yours,” the Earl replied, “and what I am going to suggest is that we sit down on the sofa before I offer you a glass of champagne.”

  He indicated the sofa at the side of the fireplace and Ilouka immediately walked towards it to seat herself so that she faced the room.

  There was a table covered with exquisite pieces of china directly behind her so that it was impossible for any of the guests to approach her unawares. It was almost as if they had become a threatening pack of wolves and only by avoiding direct contact with them could she feel safe.

  As she was speaking to the Earl, she had noticed that Mr. Archer had deliberately moved away. He knew that he was not wanted and tactfully had walked to where at the other end of the room stood a large and impressive piano.

  He sat down and began to play very softly the sort of music that would make a suitable background to conversation without intruding on it.

  As the Earl joined Ilouka on the sofa, she heard his guests making remarks to the effect that it was no use competing against Vincent, while another commented,

  “I never bet on the favourite!”

  They were certainly laughing and joking amongst themselves because they thought that the Earl was monopolising her. But she had the feeling that they were too much in awe of him both as a man and as their host to protest about it.

  As the Earl sat down beside her, he asked,

  “Did you say you would like a glass of champagne or would you prefer a liqueur?”

  “I want nothing, thank you, except to hear that you enjoyed our entertainment tonight.”

  “I thought that there would be no need for me to express the obvious.”

  “Then you were pleased, my Lord?” Ilouka insisted.

  “Far more pleased than I could possibly have anticipated.”

  She gave him a smile before she said,

  “I am glad, so very glad!”

  “Why?” the Earl enquired abruptly.

  “Because it means a great deal to Mr. Archer. Like many people in the theatrical world, he has been going through a difficult time and your request for an entertainment here this evening came at just the right moment for him.”

  She paused and, as the Earl did not speak, she bent forward to say pleadingly,

  “Please ask him to come here another time and perhaps you will tell your friends how good he is.”

  The Earl raised his eyebrows.

  He was sitting sideways so that he faced her rather than leaning against the back of the sofa and there was an expression on his face that she did not understand as he said,

  “I thought we were talking about you.”

  “I am of no importance,” Ilouka said quickly, “and, as Mr. Archer made clear, I am here to give one performance and one only. But for him it is different – ”

  She could not say more because the Earl interrupted her to ask,

  “Where in London are you performing? And why have I not seen you?”

  For a second Ilouka hesitated, wondering what she should reply.

  Then she said a little mockingly,

  “I thought Mr. Archer made it quite clear that I was here to amuse you before I returned to the place from whence I came.”

  “And where is that place?”

  “Where could it be but Mount Olympus?”

  She thought that she was being rather clever in preventing him from being too inquisitive but the Earl stated,

  “You cannot expect me to be content with such an imprecise address, but it is something we can talk about later.”

  “I want to help Mr. Archer.”

  “Why? What does he mean to you?” the Earl enquired.

  “I am sorry for him.”

  As she spoke, she thought that perhaps she had taken the wrong line.

  The Earl might be the type of man who liked success and was interested in obtaining only the best.

  Perhaps, she thought, in trying to help Mr. Archer, she might have done him a disservice, in that the Earl, with all his money, would wish to employ only those entertainers who could command a large audience and a high fee elsewhere.

  Because she felt so deeply concerned for Mr. Archer, she said quickly,

  “He is not begging for himself, but I am aware that, because you are so important in the sporting and Social worlds, you could do much to help him.”

  She thought that there was a cynical twist to the Earl’s lips as he responded,

  “Most young women in your position want me to help them.”

  “I am in no need of help, my Lord,” Ilouka pointed out.

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “Very very sure.”

  “Are you now speaking as a Goddess or as an aspiring young dancer whom I have not yet seen on the stage at Covent Garden, which would be a far more prestigious place for you to perform than at the Royal Olympic Theatre?”

  There was silence while Ilouka wondered how she could answer him and the Earl went on,

  “I presume that you are intending to remain with Madame Vestris when the next Season opens. I consider you are wasted as an understudy and I could promise to find you a part in a very much more prestigious theatre where I can undoubtedly arrange for you to play a lead.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Ilouka replied, “but I was not asking you to help me but Mr. Archer.”

  “Why is he so important to you? Or let me put the question I asked you just now in a different way, why are you so concerned about him?”

  It flashed through Ilouka’s mind that perhaps the Earl thought that he was a relative of hers or that in some way she was indebted to him.

  Because she had no wish to lie and at the same time she wished to try to make the Earl understand why she wanted to help Mr. Archer, she hesitated before she said,

  “I am sure that you are finding this conversation very boring, my Lord. Let’s talk about something more interesting.”

  “I want to talk about you,” he replied.

  “I would rather talk about horses – and Apollo in particular. How is he?”

  “What do you know about my horses? This is now the second time you have mentioned them.”

  “I know how successful you have been on the Racecourse,” Ilouka answered, “and I remember when you won the Derby with Apollo. What a magnificent race it was and how he only won by a nose.”

  She recalled her father describing it to her and saying it was the most exciting race that he had ever watched.

  “I did not even mind losing my money, which I can ill-afford,” he had remarked to her mother, “because I wanted the best horse to win and it was not until the very last second that we were aware which one that was.”

  “I mind you losing it, darling,” her mother had replied, “because we cannot afford losses, however small.”

&n
bsp; “Do you know how much I lost in the whole day’s racing?” her father had asked.

  Her mother shook her head and Ilouka was aware of the look of anxiety in her beautiful eyes.

  “Nothing!” her father laughed. “In fact I won!”

  He had taken a large handful of notes and coins from his pocket and put them into her mother’s lap.

  “My lovely doubting Thomas does not trust me,” he said. “But I now return to you on this occasion the winner!”

  “Oh, darling, I am so glad,” her mother had replied.

  Her father had laughed and pulled his wife into his arms forgetting that the money was in her lap.

  The coins had rolled all over the floor and Ilouka picked them all up.

  As she did so, she thought how it made everybody happy when her father won when he gambled, but were unhappy when he lost.

  It was the same with people, she thought now and, while the Earl might worry about his horses, he did not understand how much the losers in life suffered.

  “If you do not leave too early tomorrow morning,” he was saying, “which is something I hope I can persuade you not to do, I will show you Apollo.”

  “He is here?”

  “Yes, he is here and actually he ran in a race today, heavily handicapped, but he won.”

  “Oh, I am so very glad!” Ilouka exclaimed. “I would love to see him! It would be very thrilling for me.”

  She spoke with such excitement in her voice that the Earl looked at her curiously.

  She was aware that if she could see Apollo it would make her feel close to her father, as in the days when he would describe to her in the evening the races that he had watched and explain how the winner had managed to beat the rest of the field.

  “Is the fact that I have a horse that you are interested in the reason why you agreed to come here?” the Earl asked. “I was certainly not expecting anybody quite so talented or quite so beautiful.”

  Spoken in his dry rather cold manner, the compliment did not seem embarrassing.

  Because he had asked her a direct question, Ilouka answered truthfully,

  “When I agreed to come here with Mr. Archer,” she said, “I was not aware that you were the owner of Apollo, because when he won the Derby your name was ‘Hampton’.”