106. Love's Dream in Peril Read online

  Adella’s heart was now beating with uncomfortable urgency.

  She almost wished that she might never have to see Lord Ranulph again, for she knew that when she did, the difficult conversation they had just had must be resumed and it would, if anything, become much more difficult.

  How would she ever be able to keep on saying ‘no’ to him?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The morning after the ball, Adella stepped through the iron gate that led into the garden in the middle of Dorset Square.

  Her head ached from all the champagne she had drunk the night before and her mind was full of confusion after the conversation she had just had with Uncle Edgar.

  She had come down late to breakfast and, much to her surprise, she found her uncle still sitting at the table.

  She wished him a ‘good morning’ and he did not reply, but stared at her as she helped herself to coffee and a slice of toast, which was all she felt like eating.

  “Well?” he asked, after a lengthy pause. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

  “What do you mean, Uncle Edgar?”

  “Oh, come now, there is no need to be coy. You were on the terrace last night with his Lordship.”

  Adella felt her face grow hot and she knew that she must be blushing deep red.

  “We were just talking. It was very close and hot in the ballroom, and – ”

  “Yes? And what? What did his Lordship have to say to you?”

  Adella gave a little shiver, she could not help it, at the memory of Lord Ranulph’s proposal.

  “And did he ask you to marry him?” he enquired, watching her closely. “I surmise that indeed he did from the colour of your cheeks. Well, well. I did not think I should get you off my hands quite so quickly and that the man responsible should be both titled and wealthy.”

  Adella struggled to control the panic that surged up in her throat.

  “I haven’t – I didn’t accept – ”

  Uncle Edgar shrugged his narrow shoulders.

  “No matter,” he said. “All the better to appear a little reluctant. It will whet the young man’s appetite.”

  He stood up, ready to leave and go to his study.

  “But Uncle Edgar – I could not – I do not want to marry him – ”

  “Oh, but you will,” her uncle interrupted. “This is your first proposal, a little reluctance is only what people will expect from you. Lord Ranulph will understand this. I have no doubt that he will call upon me very soon to gain my permission. I shall have no hesitation in giving it.”

  Adella felt a tightness in her throat and the dining room seemed to swim in front of her eyes.

  Uncle Edgar did not notice anything untoward as a little smile played on his thin lips.

  “You may string his Lordship along if you wish, Adella, but be in no doubt, you will marry him before the year is out. I look forward to visiting you at Manningham, when you are Lady Ranulph Fowles. It is one of the finest houses in the country.”

  “Please, Uncle Edgar. I have only been to one ball. I am not sure that Lord Ranulph will be the right husband for me. I have hardly met any other young men.”

  “No need for that. You have caught the best of the bunch without even trying.” His smile grew wider. “They say he’s the most eligible bachelor in London this Season.”

  He then left the dining room and Adella heard him muttering to himself,

  “Perhaps I might take Manningham as the subject for my next model, when the Red Fort is completed – ”

  Now she stood under the trees in the garden, feeling the dappled sunlight on her face.

  Something about this quiet peaceful place reminded her of the Botanical Gardens on that magical afternoon a few weeks before.

  If only she had not known that moment of blissful joy, that golden dream when Digby had kissed her, she might now have been able to think of Lord Ranulph as a husband.

  But, when her uncle had spoken of her as ‘Lady Ranulph Fowles’, a bleak emptiness had filled her body

  “I simply could not bear it,” she whispered. “Lord Ranulph is handsome, he is kind, he is wealthy. But I feel nothing for him. And if we were married – ”

  She shivered again. She could not possibly spend the rest of her life with a man whose presence made her feel uncomfortable and whose touch left her cold.

  The plane trees in the Square’s garden cast hazy shadows over the paths that wound through the garden.

  Adella found a bench to sit on and wondered why she did not come here more often, as she felt as if she had stepped into a quiet oasis.

  But her troubled thoughts would not leave her and, try as she might, she could not see a way out of a future that she was already dreading.

  Adella had thought she was alone in the garden, but she could hear children’s laughter and happy shouts from the pavement outside.

  ‘If only I could be like them,’ she thought. ‘It must be Heaven to run and play in the sunshine without a care in the world.’

  The children were coming into the garden and she heard them running along the path behind her bench.

  “Are you the lady from No. 82?” a breathless little voice asked.

  A slim fair-haired little girl in a blue cotton frock and a white pinafore stared up at Adella.

  “Because if you are,” she said, “we have something very important to ask you.”

  “Agnes!” a man then called from behind a thick rhododendron bush. “What are you doing?”

  At the sound of his cheerful voice, Adella was consumed by a confusion of delight and pain.

  Her heart beat so fast she was almost fainting, as a tall young man with fair hair and blue eyes emerged from the bushes, carrying a chubby young child in his arms.

  It was Digby.

  Digby, who she had thought was lost to her forever.

  “It’s the lady from No. 82,” the little girl, Agnes, was saying. “Ask her, please, won’t you?”

  Digby’s face had turned red and he was gazing at Adella, his face twisted with what looked almost like pain.

  “I thought that I should never see you again,” he whispered.

  “You promised to write to me – ” Adella began, but she was interrupted by the arrival of another child, a boy with bright red hair and sharp green eyes.

  “Good work, Agnes,” the lad called. “What’s the answer?”

  “We haven’t even asked her yet,” Agnes replied. “Go on, Digby, you do it!”

  “Just a minute,” Digby said and put down the little boy he was carrying. “All of you, run off and play for a moment and I promise to ask Miss May about the ponies.”

  “All right. If you promise.” Ned piped up. “Katy’s hiding by the bandstand, we’ll go and find her.”

  And he seized his little brother’s hand and trotted off, followed by Agnes.

  “Why are you here?” Adella asked after a moment as Digby seemed to have lost the power of speech.

  “I am – sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea that you were the lady from No. 82. It’s just such a shock to see you! I’ve never forgotten our walk in Oxford. I so wanted to write to you – but I was called away.”

  Adella could not stop looking at him. Somehow in the weeks since she had last seen him, she had forgotten how much she liked to be with him.

  She had turned her memory of him into someone thoughtless and unkind, who did not care for her.

  But now that he was here in front of her, looking down at his shoes in such confusion and shame, he seemed genuinely upset that he had broken his promise.

  “What do the children want to ask me?” she said.

  Digby looked up, an expression of great relief on his face, as if he had been expecting her to scold him and explained that they had seen her little white ponies and were longing to borrow them.

  “They are lively children, but very good-hearted and at the moment they have no Governess. I play with them as much as I can, but I have so little time.”

  “Why,
I should be delighted for them to make use of Sugar and Spice. I will speak to Jim at once. But Digby – I don’t understand. Why are you here?”

  A look of such sadness came into his blue eyes that it made her heart turn over.

  “It’s a long story,” he sighed.

  To her utter delight, he slipped his arm into hers and she found herself walking beside him, just as they had done on the dreamy afternoon in the Botanical Gardens.

  *

  “Please, you must not cry!” Digby caught Adella’s shoulders and held her gently. “It was terrible for us to lose Papa. But to go so quickly was a good end for him, he could not have chosen a better.”

  Adella tried to compose herself. It was not just the death of Digby’s Papa that upset her.

  It was the way that she had thought so harshly of him for not sending her a message, as he had promised.

  “I am so sorry. If I had known the truth.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have tried harder to send a message to you and to find you.”

  There was a scatter of pebbles from the path as four pairs of small feet raced up to them.

  “Digby! Why are you making the pretty lady cry?” little Katy asked, gazing at Adella with admiring eyes.

  “Give her your handkerchief at once!” Ned called.

  “Most remiss of me,” Digby grinned and pulled out of his pocket a large white handkerchief with the letters ‘DD’ embroidered on it.

  Adella dried her eyes hastily, as Digby introduced Agnes, Ned, Katy and Peter to her.

  “And now, all of you, I think a big ‘thank-you’ is in order,” he added. “Miss May says that she will be very happy for you to borrow her ponies.”

  Adella clapped her hands over her ears as the four children yelled with delight.

  “Thank you, thank you and thank you!” Ned and Agnes shouted, jumping up and down.

  “We love you, Miss May!” Katy cried, spinning round and round on the spot like a top.

  And little Peter sat on the hem of Adella’s skirt and gave her a gap-toothed smile of pure delight.

  “They seem quite pleased,” Adella commented.

  Digby laughed.

  “An understatement! They are so delighted. Hush now, children, I cannot hear myself think.”

  “I shall speak to my groom and arrange for him to bring Sugar and Spice to your father’s Mews tomorrow, shall I?” Adella asked, when the noise had subsided a little.

  “Thank you very much,” Ned cried. “That would be splendiferous!”

  “I think it’s time I took them home,” Digby said. “I should be at Chambers today, but my cousin, the Judge, has given me the day off so I can study. I must go back to my books or he will not be pleased with me.”

  Adella’s heart sank at the thought of his leaving her so soon. She wanted to keep him beside her, even if it was only for a little moment longer.

  “The Judge must be a good man to do so much for you and a really kind father to have such lovely spirited children,” she said, watching as they sped away to chase each other round the bandstand.

  Digby’s blue eyes were looking into Adella’s now and, although she knew that she should let him go to his studies, she could not do it.

  She had to keep him with her for a little longer.

  “Do you remember my friend, Jane, from that day in Oxford?” she asked him.

  “Yes, why?”

  “I have just had a wonderful idea. Would the Judge be interested to hear of a good Governess, do you think?”

  “Oh, I see what you are getting at,” Digby smiled. “Mrs. Dryden, his wife, did mention the other day that she would have to place an advertisement to find one soon.”

  Adella’s heart leapt with excitement.

  “I will get Jane to write to her,” she exclaimed.

  She was about to tell Digby how much she missed Jane and how wonderful it would be to have her close by.

  But all such thoughts were banished from her mind, as he caught her in his arms.

  “It was meant to be that I should find you again,” he sighed.

  She could not say anything for a moment as the joy of being held by him once more was so great.

  “Something, some Power greater than ourselves has brought us together,” he continued. “I don’t deserve this, but I am so, so happy.”

  And there under the plane trees in Dorset Square, he touched her lips with his.

  It was just a very quick kiss, but Adella felt her soul fly to meet his in a swift second of golden rapture.

  As Digby drew back from her, she saw someone standing on the path, some yards away from them, a tall figure in a dark coat.

  A man who seemed to be watching them.

  As she strained her eyes to see who it might be, the man stepped aside and vanished into the bushes.

  “What is it?” Digby asked.

  “I thought I saw someone.”

  “Mrs. Dryden, probably – seeking her lost brood.”

  “No, it was a man, I think.”

  Digby turned to look.

  “There is no one there,” he said. “Nothing but the trunks of the trees and shadows on the path.”

  A strange feeling of apprehension passed through Adella, so that she shivered. The golden dream that had possessed her a moment ago as they kissed had vanished like mist.

  “What’s wrong?” Digby gazed at her. “You look as if you have seen a ghost!”

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered. “I have only just found you again, I cannot bear you to go so soon.”

  “I have to. I must. Adella, don’t look so anxious.”

  “I can’t help it,” Adella said, for the strange cold feeling of fear was growing stronger. “I have lost you once. I might lose you again.”

  “Of course you won’t. I am only a few doors away and, although I am busy all the time and I have no choice in the matter, we will meet again soon.”

  He linked his arm in hers and they walked together back to the iron gate that led into the Square.

  Adella now saw that Mrs. Dryden, a tall elegant woman had come out onto the front steps of her house, No. 90 and was looking at them, shading her eyes in the sun.

  Digby waved to her.

  “I must fetch the children,” he whispered. “Soon, Adella, soon!”

  And he turned and ran back into the garden.

  *

  Lord Ranulph stood in front of Fowles Place, the gracious mansion, his family’s London residence.

  His head was spinning and the image of Adella as he had just seen her in the arms of another young man, a fair-haired devil who looked amazingly like Digby, swirled incessantly around in his mind.

  He had to escape from the torment of it. The only way that he could think of was to have Major saddled at once and to gallop as far and as fast as he could.

  As Rotten Row opened up before him, he dug his spurs into Major’s flanks, pushing him to go faster.

  Lord Ranulph crouched over Major’s sleek black neck, urging him on.

  “Whoa, there!” a high voice called.

  A rider was coming up behind him, also pounding along at a breakneck gallop. In a few more strides a grey horse came up to Major and a slender hand seized the reins from Lord Ranulph and pulled his black horse to a halt.

  It was Lady Ireton, her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing with the excitement of the chase.

  “You are riding as recklessly as the Devil,” she asserted. “Are you trying to kill yourself? To say nothing of your excellent mount?”

  Lord Ranulph muttered something to the effect that he might as well kill himself.

  “Nonsense!” Lady Ireton laughed. “A young man who is just about to get engaged to the prettiest girl in London! Or has she refused you? Is that what drives you to such a dangerous excess of speed?”

  The sound of her laughter was like a shock of cold water, bringing him to his senses.

  “She has not refused me,” he growled angrily.

 
And then, as the reality of what he had just seen returned to him, he added,

  “At least, not yet.”

  Lady Ireton raised her brows.

  “Oh, dear. Perhaps she prefers another? Is that it? The young gentlemen were flocking around her last night.”

  He could still say nothing, but at the same time the expression on his face gave away the truth.

  “Oh, my poor boy!” Lady Ireton said. “What has happened?”

  At last he found his voice and, forcing the words out, Lord Ranulph told her the events of the morning.

  “I spoke to Adella last night as I think you guessed, Lady Ireton. She seemed a little shocked, but not unwilling to consider my proposal.”

  His voice was unsteady as Lady Ireton watched him keenly, a little smile on her face.

  “This morning I called upon her uncle to gain his permission to continue with my suit and he was delighted.”

  “You are a good catch, Ranulph.” Lady Ireton’s hand was still firmly gripping Major’s rein. “I am not at all surprised that the old stick should be delighted to have you take his niece off his hands.”

  “He told me Adella had gone to the garden and I hurried after her to tell her the good news of her uncle’s agreement and to propose to her again.”

  Lord Ranulph could not continue. It took a moment before he was able to tell her what he had then seen.

  Adella in the arms of another young man. A fair-haired chap, who bore a startling resemblance to his old friend, Digby.

  Much to his surprise, Lady Ireton laughed.

  “That will teach you, dear Ranulph, to go spying on people!”

  “But how could she, with another man, when she knows how I feel about her and when she has received my offer of marriage? What is she thinking of?”

  “Calm yourself, Ranulph. She is just a young and foolish girl.”

  Why was she making so light of this? He felt anger begin to overcome his feelings of shock and pain.

  “She should not have behaved so,” he said loudly. “I must go now and speak to Adella. I must tell her that it is I who love her and – ”

  Lady Ireton’s gloved hand released the reins of his horse and caught his arm.

  “No!” she said firmly.

  “I must! I cannot delay one moment.”

  “Don’t be silly, Ranulph.”