Hiding from Love (14 page)

“Your drink, Miss Cressy.”

It was Señor de Guarda.

In a daze she turned round to receive the glass he proffered.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mrs. Griddle snap shut her fan and heard her declare that there was a place for Mr. Chandos on the settle beside Desirée.

Numbly she sipped from the glass and spluttered,

“What is this?  It's rather strong for my tastes.”

“Why, it's punch, Miss Cressy.”

“There's – rather a lot of it.”

“You will soon grow to like it, take another sip.”

“It's not unpleasant,” she admitted.

“Indeed not,” he replied.  “It is full of goodness – there is plenty of fruit in it, you see – to prevent scurvy.”

“Scurvy?”

“You must take plenty of it, at least four glasses for a lady.”

Señor de Guarda watched her with amusement as she drained her glass and held it out for more.

“I am glad to see you develop a taste for it, since it will do you so much good.”

As he then made his way over to the buffet table, Leonora could not resist turning once again in the direction of Desirée and Mr. Chandos.

To their obvious discomfit, Mrs. Griddle was now hovering above them like a hawk.

The Professor and two his sons, encouraged by the Captain, began to play.

Both Desirée and Mr. Chandos looked hopeful as Mr. Griddle advanced on his wife to ask her to dance.  But Mrs. Griddle shook her head and threw meaningful glances at her daughter and Mr. Chandos.

It was as though she was not going to relinquish her guard until he had actually declared his intentions.

The matter was taken out of her hands, however, by one of the ship's Officers, who presented himself with a bow to Desirée.

Mrs. Griddle gave out a squawk as Desirée, after a slight nod from Mr. Chandos, rose up to accept the young Officer's invitation to dance.

Leonora held her breath as they took to the floor.

Why had Mr. Chandos countenanced this move?

Her question was answered at once, as he stood up and made his way over to her.

“I should be very delighted, Miss Cressy, if you would dance with me,” he said solemnly.

Leonora's lips parted, but no sound came.

Was it possible that he had dispensed with Desirée in order to be free for her, Leonora?

“Miss Cressy?”

Leonora swallowed and glanced towards the buffet table to see Señor de Guarda turning back with two full glasses of punch in his hands.

This decided her.

She must accept quickly or Señor de Guarda would surely intervene.

Lowering her gaze, she held out a trembling hand.

Mr. Chandos took it and a shudder ran through her, as his hand was so warm, his clasp so firm.

She felt so weak at his touch she wondered how she would be able to dance.

Then Mr. Chandos, in one move, crushed her to his chest.  His strength flowed into her and suddenly there seemed only air beneath her feet.

It was ecstasy to be in his arms!

There were but three musicians, yet it seemed as if a whole orchestra was playing.

Her heart swelled with joy.

The neglect she had felt at his hands was forgotten.

His espousal of Desirée was forgotten.

For this moment he was hers and hers alone.

His arm now encircled her waist, his fingers entwined in her fingers.

She began to lose all sense of time and place.

It was almost as if she was back at Broughton Hall all those weeks ago in the arms of the masked stranger, so similar was the sensation.

She did not dare raise her face, as she was sure her features would reveal her emotions.

And she could have sworn that Mr. Chandos was not unmoved himself as his hold tightened by the minute.

His lips brushed her temples and she felt his breath on her hair.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Leonora lowered her head still further.

“No, look at me.”

Lips trembling, she slowly lifted her head.

His eyes could have scorched her skin, so intense was his scrutiny!

They almost stopped dancing and just stood there, swaying, locked in this mutual and burning gaze.

“Miss Cressy!”

The voice that intruded was all too familiar.

Mr. Chandos loosened his hold as Leonora turned a dazed face to Mrs. Griddle's tart expression.

“I am sure, Miss Cressy, that Mr. Chandos has no desire to keep you from the company of your
actual
escort for this evening, Señor de Guarda here.”

The Señor regarded Leonora wryly.

“Here is me, Miss Cressy,” he said, pulling a long face.  “Abandoned – after all our little intimacies.”

Mr. Chandos visibly whitened as he stepped back, his hands tightening at his side.

Leonora repressed a cry of despair.

The spell was broken and broken so cruelly.  How could she explain that Señor de Guarda had no claims on her at all, had never received any encouragement from her, and had no hold on her whatsoever?

She threw a beseeching glance at Mr. Chandos, but he would not look at her.

“Excuse me, Señor de Guarda, I return Miss Cressy to your protection,” he mouthed stiffly.

Mrs. Griddle gave a victorious smirk as he bowed and moved away.

“I expect an announcement at any time,” she said to Leonora.  “Look he is going straight to my daughter now.”

Leonora followed her gaze numbly.

Yes, Mr. Chandos was bowing to Desirée and he was drawing her onto the floor, his lips at her ear just as they had been at hers but a short while before.

Mrs. Griddle turned to cast a last triumphant glance at Leonora and it was in that second that Desirée quickly took a folded note out of her purse and slipped it into Mr. Chandos's hand.

Leonora could not believe her eyes.

What kind of man
was
Mr. Chandos?  To enflame her emotions as he undoubtedly had during their dance, but then a moment later accept what was most certainly a
billet-doux
from another young lady?

It was that
billet-doux
in her gold purse that had so obviously agitated Desirée all evening!

She felt a glass thrust into her hand.

“Drink up, Miss Cressy,” urged Señor de Guarda.

“Yes, drink up,” echoed Mrs. Griddle as she moved away.  “I'm sure it's an habitual occupation for you.”

Leonora gasped aloud.

She was so distracted by this casual insult that she forgot the part Señor de Guarda had played in destroying her character in front of Mr. Chandos.

“Don't mind,” the Señor was saying now as he put his hand under Leonora's and guided the drink to her lips.

“You will see, this will lift your spirits.  For you are a little cast down, I think.”

Leonora gave a strangled laugh.

“Yes, I am a little cast down!”

“Well, then.  Drink.”

‘I will drink,' thought Leonora. ‘I will drink till my heart feels warm and carefree and then I won't care for Mr. Chandos or anyone else.'

In this spirit she downed the glass and then sent Señor de Guarda for another.

She wanted Mr. Chandos to see that she was quite capable of enjoying herself whether she was the focus of his attention or not.

But Mr. Chandos was now nowhere to be seen and in trepidation, Leonora looked for Desirée.

Had she disappeared too?

No, Desirée was sitting where she had sat for most of the evening – on the settle, purse clasped in her lap.

The third glass of punch did not bring the desired effect and Leonora's heart felt no more warm or carefree than before, whilst the Señor plied her with yet another.

When her head started swimming, he gripped her elbow and steered her quickly towards the door, advocating a dose of fresh air.

Leonora found herself propelled to the upper deck.

She stood blinking in the bright moonlight, while he made sure that the door that led below was fast closed.

Leonora craned her neck and gazed up at the sky.  Stars hung like dim pearls in the inky darkness.

She forgot all about Señor de Guarda.

From the salon strains of music wafted to her ears and she imagined she was still in the arms of Mr. Chandos.

Slowly she began to turn as if she was dancing, her arms held out at either side for balance.  As she turned, her eyes passed over the shadows below the giant funnel and she could have sworn there was a figure there, watching.

A figure that stepped immediately back.

She did not stop to wonder who it was, but turned again, head thrown back, her slender white neck exposed.

Señor de Guarda lurched towards her and then sank to his knees.

“My blood, but you're beautiful!”

Leonora, halted in her solitary dance, stared down as he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips.

“How I have waited – ” he groaned.

Disliking the feel of his kiss on her skin, Leonora tried to draw her hand away, but his grip tightened.

She winced, feeling that he was crushing her bones.

“Don't!”

In answer he dropped her hand and flung his arms around her skirts instead.

Leonora pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Don't!” she pleaded again.

Señor de Guarda gave a snarl.

“It is time,
señorita
, to bestow your favours on
me
!  Remember I know enough to undo you.”

With horror Leonora felt his hand grasp her ankle and begin to slide up along her calf.

A figure stepped from the shadows with a roar.

“You are a cowardly dog, sir!”

She had no time to wonder at hearing the voice of Mr. Chandos, as the Señor thrust her from him cursing.

She stumbled back – reached for the rail – missed it and fell.

Striking her head on the deck, she knew no more.

*

She felt as if she was swimming upwards through murky water.  All around her was dark, but there above her a faint light flickered and she struggled towards it.

Then a dark shape seemed to come between her and the light and she felt a hand on her forehead and wondered how that was possible.

Was there someone else with her in these depths?

Now she felt something damp placed on her brow.

“Leonora?” she heard a voice murmur.

She blinked back into focus and turning, she stared straight into the anxious eyes of Desirée Griddle.

“Thank Heavens!  You have been unconscious for some time.”

‘
Unconscious
!' thought Leonora.  She gave a groan as the memory of what had occurred on the deck flooded through her.

Now everyone would know what a fool she was!

Raising a hand, she felt her forehead.  Yes, there on the right was a large bump, tender to the touch.  Her whole head still throbbed somewhat.

She wondered if Desirée had witnessed Señor de Guarda's improprieties.

Had there been
two
figures in the shadows?

She scanned Desirée's face for a hint of scorn, but found nothing to show that she thought any the less of her than before.

She must, however, make sure.

“W-what happened?” she asked tentatively.

“Mr. Chandos found you lying on deck.  You must have fainted and hit your head as you fell.”

Leonora turned quickly away to hide her relief as another thought struck her,

“H-how did I get back here to my cabin?”

Desirée leaned forward to straighten the wet flannel on Leonora's brow.

“Mr. Chandos carried you down.”

Carried her
!  Leonora's head swam.  She had been in his arms, clutched to his breast and had not known it!

If only she had regained consciousness enough to feel, if just for a moment, the beat of his heart close to hers.

Yet if he had carried her down, he had not stayed to tend her.  He had rather left her to the ministrations of her rival, a fact she suddenly resented.

“How did you come to be here?” she asked Desirée narrowly.

“Mr. Chandos sent Finny to fetch me.  He didn't want Mama or any of the other passengers to know what had happened, particularly as Mama is liable to become hysterical at the slightest opportunity.

“Mr. Chandos knew that I would be the best person to attend you,” Desirée added with an air of such innocence that Leonora was quite thrown.

She seemed so blissfully unaware of the animosity that she, Leonora, harboured towards her.

Perhaps she is a little stupid, thought Leonora, with bitter satisfaction.

This thought was the only bit of comfort she could draw from the whole experience, for she was only too well aware of how low her reputation must now stand in the opinion of the man she had so wished to impress.

She shuddered and closed her eyes as she recalled that humiliating scene on deck.

From the shadows, Mr. Chandos had witnessed her dancing in front of Señor de Guarda.  She had behaved in a wanton fashion and no doubt Mr. Chandos considered that this had provoked the Señor's assault upon her.

Tears welled underneath her lids.  She tried to force them back but failed as they trickled down her pale cheeks in such profusion that Desirée was alarmed.

She ran swiftly to the cabin door and opened it.

“Finny!” she called out along the corridor.

Finny had obviously been nearby, as he was there in an instant.

“Yes?” he enquired.  “Is Miss Leonora all right?”

At the sound of his voice, she opened her eyes.

“Yes – I'm all right Finny.”

Desirée looked dubious.

“Perhaps you might bring something warm for her to drink, Finny?” she suggested.

“A little soup if I can get cook to heat it up?”

“Yes, that would be good, but Finny, don't be long, will you?  Because it's – getting late, isn't it?”

“Nearly midnight, miss, but I won't be long.”