Elizabeth Mansfield (20 page)

“I don’t know,” Brandon said bitterly. “We weren’t involved in such deception then. How can I concentrate on anything when I know we’re being watched?”

“Can’t you forget that we’re being watched? Can’t you tell me about your precious Greeks? Once you spent
hours
telling me about Thucydides!”

“Well,” Brandon said, grasping at a straw, “I
had
once planned on talking to you about Catullus. He’s not a Greek, of course, but a Roman.”

“Oh, Brandon,” Letty laughed in relief, “as if
that
matters.”

“I don’t have the book with me, however. I don’t know many of the verses by memory. But he’d make an excellent subject. He wrote love poetry, you see.”

“Then we’ll manage without the book. He’ll make the perfect subject,” Letty said encouragingly, leaning close to him.

By the time Prue extricated herself from the attentions of the Rabbit and came up to them, Letty and Brandon seemed quite happily absorbed in conversation. At the same moment, Roger approached the little group. After the greetings were exchanged, he turned to Letty. “Would you care to stand up with me, Letty? A set is just now forming for a country dance.”

“Thank you,” Letty answered pleasantly but with a negative shake of her head, “but I don’t wish to leave Brandon sitting here alone.”

Prue, with full realization that she was behaving in an unladylike manner, spoke up brazenly. “I’ll keep Brandon company, Letty, if you wish to dance.”

Letty cast a look of irritation at her sister. Why couldn’t Prue mind her own business? But she knew she was being unreasonable. Prue had no idea of what was going on. So she smiled brightly at Prue but said in a determined voice, “No, thank you, Prue dear. Brandon has been reciting to me the love poetry of Catullus.” Here she flashed a challenging glance at Roger. “I’ve been finding it delightful. Besides, I’ve
promised
this dance to Brandon, so to speak, haven’t I, Brandon?”

Brandon cast a glance at Prue and nodded miserably. Prue, feeling the rejection like a sudden douse of cold water, recoiled. Roger, on the other hand, merely smiled jauntily. “I can quite understand your preferring Catullus to my dancing,” he said, “but I don’t think ‘delightful’ is the right word for his poetry. ‘Passionate’ or ‘frenzied,’ even ‘bitter,’ but
not
’delightful.’” With that, he made a little bow and left.

Prue gave a stammering, incoherent little apology and backed away. Unfortunately, she did not notice that Mr. Eberly had come up behind her, and she blundered into him. She lost her balance and fell against him, but he held her easily and restored her to her feet. She looked at him in agony and mumbled, “Oh, Mr. Eberly! I’m so sorry … !”

Mr. Eberly smiled down at her fondly. “My dear girl,” he said in playful admonition, “have you blundered into me
again
? What am I to make of that, may I ask? Can it be that you are endeavoring to attract the attention of an old bachelor like myself?”

This flirtatious raillery did much to restore Prue’s self-esteem. She threw Brandon a triumphant glance and smiled winningly at her rescuer. “Old bachelor, pooh!” she said with an enchanting giggle. “You are just the right age.”

“The right age for what, you little minx?” Mr. Eberly inquired.

“For dancing with clumsy little minxes,” Prue answered with a rather-too-loud laugh. “Don’t you agree, sir?”

“I most certainly do,” Mr. Eberly said warmly, and drew her arm through his. They walked off without a backward look, and only a toss of her head in Brandon’s direction gave any sign that she had given him another thought.

“Did you mark that?” Brandon demanded of Letty as soon as they were out of earshot. “Is
that
the sort of behavior of which your aunt approves?”

“What are you talking about now, Brandon?” Letty asked, perplexed.

“Is it now considered permissible for a young lady to ask a gentleman to dance with her? It was my understanding that it is the gentleman’s place to do the asking.”

“If you are referring to Prue’s suggestion that she sit here with you while I dance, I find nothing reprehensible about that.”

“I am not referring to that at all. I am referring to her behavior with Eberly just now!” Brandon said in disgust.

“Oh, that,” Letty said, dismissing it curtly. “That was only a bit of innocent flirting. Anyone with half an eye could see he was delighted with her.”

“That’s just it!” Brandon insisted. “She shouldn’t be permitted to encourage an elderly man like Eberly to leer at her in that odious way.”

“He’s not elderly. And he did not leer. Really, Brandon, you are becoming quite tedious. I’m beginning to wish that we
were
betrothed, so I could have the pleasure of breaking it off!” And she walked away and left him to mope alone.

Prue, her self-esteem restored by the flattering attentions of Mr. Eberly, returned to Brandon’s side when the dance ended. She had made up her mind to try again. Finding him alone, she dropped into the chair vacated by Letty and smiled at him brightly. “It’s good to sit down,” she said cheerfully. “My feet positively ache.”

“I’m not a bit surprised,” Brandon muttered sullenly. “What else should one expect when one has been bouncing around the floor as you’ve been doing?”

Prue blinked at him in surprise. “Whatever do you mean, Brandon? I can’t say I like your tone.”

“I can’t say I like the way you
danced,
either,” Brandon could not restrain himself from saying. He was feeling used, abused, and neglected. He had sat in lonely misery, watching the dancers whirl about the room happily oblivious of his discomfort. He felt very, very sorry for himself.

Prue drew herself up stiffly. “What was wrong with the way I danced?” she asked, her voice taking on an ominous formality.

“The way you waltzed around with Sir Ralph was unquestionably the most tasteless, indecent exhibition I’ve ever seen,” Brandon said heedlessly, his sullen mood driving him on, “and the way you encouraged Eberly to ogle you must have caused any observers to turn away in acute embarrassment!”

Prue whitened in fury. “How dare you!” she gasped in a horrified whisper, her lips trembling. “How
d-dare
you speak to me in such a way! I wouldn’t permit my own b-brother to say such th-things to me!
Indecent?
A little waltz? And accusing Mr. Eberly of
ogling
me? I have a good mind to tell him what you’ve said! He’d probably call you out and
horsewhip
you. If only I were a man, I’d do it
myself
!”

She got to her feet and glared down at him, biting her underlip to keep back her tears and clenching and unclenching the hands held stiffly at her sides. Brandon looked up at her in shock. He had gone too far, and he knew it. He had no idea what had made him say those dreadful things. He didn’t even believe those accusations himself. Disregarding his ankle, he struggled to his feet. “Prue …” he began pleadingly, “Prue—!”

“Don’t speak to me,” she said between clenched teeth. “Don’t
ever
speak to me, Brandon Peake. I don’t want to see you or hear you or know anything about you from this day forward! Do you hear? From now on, as far as I’m concerned,
you don’t even exist
!”

She turned on her heel and walked rapidly away. He sank back on his chair and let his misery envelop him. This time, the misery was not self-induced. It came from the destruction of his dreams, and its painful reality made his earlier self-indulgence seem positively pleasurable in comparison.

Lady Denham, in response to an urgent note from Lady Upsham, met her friend at the library on Milsom Street on an afternoon three days after the ball. As soon as the ladies had greeted each other, Lady Upsham embarked on the problem that occupied their thoughts. Circumstances beyond the knowledge or control of either one of them seemed to be destroying their hopes, and Lady Upsham wondered aloud if there was not some action they should take.

Lady Denham had confided in Lady Upsham earlier that, although Roger had masterfully taken matters out of her hands, she had every confidence that he would manage successfully on his own. Roger, she had said, was a man of amazing perception, competence, and charm—facts that, of course, were obvious to anyone, not only his mother—and she had assured Lady Upsham that it was only a question of time before the entire affair would be settled. But now, Lady Upsham reported, there were unmistakable signs that matters were not going at all well. Both Letty and Prue were sunk in the doldrums. They remained abed until late, and when they finally made their appearances, they both looked haggard. Their eyes were circled, as if they’d not slept well. They resisted her repeated suggestions to visit the Pump Room or meet with their friends. They seemed to prefer to mope about the house. It was only with the strongest urging that she could prevail upon them to take the air briefly by strolling about in the Parade Gardens opposite their lodgings. Lady Upsham had no idea what had happened or why the doldrums seemed to beset both girls at once.

With arms linked, the two friends strolled up Milsom Street abstractedly. Each put forth various theories to explain what might have happened, but these were rejected. There was only one encouraging note in their entire conversation: Lady Denham noted that Roger did not seem unduly depressed. His mother could not go so far as to say that he actually was cheerful, but he was active, went riding daily, attended some of the evening functions at the Upper Rooms and, most significant of all, made no reference to returning to London. If Roger did not have expectations of success, why was he remaining fixed in a place that he normally abhorred?

With this slight bit of encouragement, the ladies considered what action they might take to move things forward. “Our first objective must be to find a way to shake my nieces from their lethargy,” Millicent said shrewdly. “Nothing will happen while they remain hidden away at home.”

They walked on in silence. Suddenly, Lady Denham stopped and smiled. “I think I have a suggestion,” she said. “The fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” Lady Upsham asked, regarding her friend with an arrested look. “Are you speaking of the display in the Sydney Gardens?”

“Yes, exactly,” Lady Denham answered. “I hear that a display will be held tomorrow. I have not previously attended, but I understand that they are quite breathtaking. I shall make up a party for tomorrow evening. We shall have an alfresco dinner right there in the park. With the promise of music and merriment, and a most attractive fireworks display, your nieces will not be able to resist my invitation.”

Lady Denham’s prediction did not turn out to be quite accurate. Both girls looked decidedly
dubious when Roger appeared at the house on the North Parade bearing his mother’s invitation. In fact, they showed every indication that they intended to resist vigorously. Roger, recognizing the signs, remarked that the party would be very small—Lady Denham was inviting only Lady Upsham, her two nieces, and himself—and that, under those circumstances, their absence would be disastrous to her plans. At this, Letty weakened perceptibly, and Prue looked thoughtful. After he left, Aunt Millicent made it quite plain that they would face her severe displeasure if they refused. So, in the end, the two sisters wrote a gracious note to Lady Denham accepting her kind invitation with thanks.

If the truth were told, it was the information that Brandon would not make one of the party that had decided the matter in the minds of both Letty and Prue. Letty would have been hard-pressed to spend another evening in Brandon’s company. It was not that she was angry with him any longer, but she had had quite enough of dissembling. She could not have endured spending another evening pretending closeness to Brandon while Roger watched them with his shrewd and ironic eyes. She was quite relieved at the prospect of a temporary respite from the problems that her deceit had caused. She could look forward, instead, to an evening relaxed and at peace, knowing that Brandon would not be present to remind her of her foolish trickery and that Roger’s friendship could be enjoyed without concern that he would press her for anything more.

As for Prue, she would not have agreed to go to the Gardens at all if Brandon had been included in the party. Her pain at his cruel and unjustified criticism of her behavior had not abated, and her determination to avoid him at all costs remained firm. As it was, however, she could look forward to a comfortable, if not a joyous, evening.

Of course, there was nothing to prevent their running into Brandon at the gardens. The fireworks and gala festivities were open to the public, and often the entire population of Bath turned out for the display. There was no certainty that they would not come face-to-face with him. But since he was not to be one of their party, they would be under no obligation to associate with him.

Once the objections to their attendance at the Sydney Gardens were rationalized away, the mood of both girls brightened perceptibly. For the three days since the disastrous ball they had, each for her own reasons, been indulging in bouts of depression. But it is not in the nature of healthy young women to steep themselves in depression for very long. Their natures are amply supplied with qualities like hope and anticipation, which gather strength like antitoxins to fight the gloom. These hopeful feelings had lain dormant under the depression, waiting for an excuse to burst forth into the open. The prospect of the evening at the Gardens provided just such an excuse. What healthy, pretty, spirited young lady could remain gloomy with the prospect of a gala evening of music, lights, and spectacular fireworks before her? Both Letty and Prue quickly became aware that their dismals seemed miraculously to disappear, and the world suddenly became a much more cheerful place.

On the afternoon of the gala, Lady Upsham ordered them both to return to their rooms for a nap before dressing. The fireworks would not begin before complete darkness had fallen, she explained, and they were bound to be out until late. Therefore, a nap in the afternoon was advisable. The girls complied, but neither one could sleep. Prue dug her face into her pillow and concocted daydreams in which she received elaborately worded offers of marriage from Osbert, the Rabbit, Mr. Woodward, and Mr. Eberly, all of which were overheard by a jealous and tortured Brandon who gnashed his teeth and clenched his fists in helpless agony.