The House of Discontent (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

PATRICIA, if she was conscious that Camilla and Mary had disappeared, did not wonder at it. She was absorbed in the thing she wanted most at the moment, and that was for Anthony to dance with her. She hoped that when he had done his duty by his guests he would come and claim her.

Once or twice he had caught her eye over his partner’s shoulder and had raised his eyebrows in a little grimace of helplessness, as much as to say: “After all it’s my party, so what else can I do?”

Her only worry was that she might get so booked up that she would not be free when he came. Her partners were very insistent, and not one stopped dancing with her without saying: “When will you dance with me again?”

She did her best not to get booked up, even at the risk of being without a partner at all, and when this did happen, entirely through her own fault, she took the opportunity of going up to her room. She sat at her dressing-table, looking at herself unseeingly in the glass and wondering: “When shall I get a chance to be alone with him?”

It was awful how terribly she wanted him to herself, and although she did not mind his dancing with the others—in fact, she respected the good manners which prompted him to do so—yet she longed for him to be free of his duties as host.

She did not hurry, for she had the whole dance to sit out, but remained at her dressing-table absent-mindedly combing her hair and re-powdering her face, without being quite aware of her own reflection. Her mind and heart were full of Anthony to the exclusion of all else.

When finally she went downstairs again she ran into him in the hall.

“Oh, there you are!” he exclaimed. “Where on earth have you been? I thought I had lost you.” And there was a mingling of relief and impatience in his tone which set her heart singing.

“Come and dance with me,” he said, and she thanked her stars that she was not engaged to dance with anyone else.

“Have you finished your duty dances?” she asked as he led her into the drawing-room and put his arm round her.

“How do you know that dancing with you isn’t a duty?” he asked.

“Is it?”

“It’s a duty to myself,” he replied.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean by that,” she asked.

“Perhaps you are not meant to.”

“Isn’t it time you stopped being cryptic with me?” she asked.

“What has time got to do with it?” he replied.

She was at a loss for a reply. She didn’t understand him. For a moment he had seemed so close and now he was far away again.

“Let’s go and sit out,” he said suddenly. “I’m tired of dancing.”

Patricia was hurt by this last remark, although her sense of justice told her that she ought not to be. Of course he was tired of dancing, considering that he had danced every dance since the music started.

They went into the library, where they found two empty armchairs placed side by side.

“This is the room I was shown into when first I came here,” she said as they sat down. “Do you remember?”

“Do you think I am suffering from loss of memory?” He took out his case and handed her a cigarette. “I can see you now walking into the room.”

“And you were awfully surprised,” she said.

He shook his head.

“You weren’t?” she asked.

“No.”

“I was, she said. “I wonder why you weren’t?”

“I knew we should meet again,” he replied.

“Did you? Why?”

“Because one always meets again the things in life of which one is afraid. Haven’t you noticed that?”

“Do you mean to say you were afraid of me?”

“Scared stiff of you,” he replied.

“I simply can’t understand that.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t seem to understand, Patricia.” And he lingered over the syllables of her name.

“What sort of things?”

“Certain things about human nature.”

“And are you still afraid of me?” she asked quietly.

“I wouldn’t grow less afraid as the danger became greater and more imminent, would I?” he replied.

“If you would tell me why you are afraid of me I could put your fears at rest,” she said.

“If I could tell you why I am afraid of you I wouldn’t be afraid of you.”

“This is getting a little involved,” she said, laughing.

“I wish we could have kept up the anonymity of the first evening we met,” he said with apparent irrelevance. “Come on,” he added suddenly. “I suppose I must go and dance some more duty dances.”

“Oh, no,” she exclaimed, “don’t go yet.” But after she had said the words she could have bitten her tongue out because she felt that she had given herself away so completely.

He had half got up, but he sat down again. He bent towards her. “Why don’t you want me to go?” he asked, and his eyes searched hers.

She looked away. “Oh, only because it was rather nice sitting here,” she answered in an off-hand manner.

“You can continue to sit here then,” he said, getting up again. “I am sure there are dozens of young men who would be only too delighted to sit out with you, but I must go and make myself amiable. There is Charlie now. He is all alone, so we’ll call him over to sit with you.”

“No,” she said quickly, but he took no notice of her protest and called to the young man who was standing undecidedly in the doorway.

Twice already Patricia had danced with this young man, whom she had not met before that evening, and she had no wish to sit out with him or dance with him again. But he obeyed Anthony’s summons with alacrity, and almost before she knew it he had taken Anthony’s place in the chair beside her and Anthony was on his way to the door.

A sudden sense of appalling desolation came over her. She tried to pull herself together, to talk politely to the young man, but she found his presence almost intolerable. How she longed to have the last few minutes over again.

Oh, why hadn’t she returned a different answer to Anthony’s question? The stupid shyness had been responsible for her cold reply. He had given her an opportunity and she had missed it. But what could she have said? How could she have seized the opportunity except by saying, “Don’t go, because I love being with you.”

She had not been listening to the young man, and judging from his expression she must have made some extremely inappropriate answer to a question of his. But she was saved from embarrassment by Mary, who at that moment burst into the room.

Mary’s hair was dishevelled, but her eyes looked even brighter, if that were possible, than they had done before. She came straight up to Patricia, saying: “Lady Brierleigh has sent me to fetch you in to supper. She wants everyone to come along.”

And then, as Patricia got up with thankful promptness, Mary took her by the arm and whispered: “It’s all right, he’s asked me.”

Patricia squeezed her hand and tried to form her stiff lips into a smile. “I’m so glad,” she whispered back.

The dining-room had been cleverly transformed since dinner. The room was dotted with small round tables and on each table was an electric light with a pink shade. The effect was extremely pretty, and the soft pink light very flattering to the women’s complexions.

Lady Brierleigh was standing at the sideboard asking everyone to come and help themselves. Patricia noticed that Anthony was already seated at one of the tables near the door, and that there were two disengaged places on one side of him.

“If you like to go and sit down,” said Charlie, who had accompanied her into the dining-room, “I’ll bring you some food.”

Patricia had missed one opportunity. She was not going to miss another. As quick as lightning, before anyone else could get there, she stepped forward and put her hand on the back of the chair next to Anthony’s. “Thank you,” she said to Charlie, “I’ll keep a place for you.” And then, as Anthony turned round, she asked him: “Are you keeping this for anyone?”

“No,” Anthony said, but as Patricia sat down next to him he turned back to his neighbour on the other side and began to talk to her.

Several people wanted to sit down in the chair next to Patricia, but, as she had promised, she kept it for Charlie. Soon he appeared with two plates, one of which he set down in front of her. “I hope I have got you what you like,” he said.

“You have certainly got me enough!” she replied. “I can never eat all this.”

“I expect I shall be able to eat anything you don’t want,” he said. “I’m as hungry as a lion.”

He chatted away while he was eating, but she answered him only vaguely. Anthony had not spoken a word to her since she had sat down, and she was feeling too miserable to talk or to eat.

“Let’s stick together all the evening, shall we?” Charlie asked suddenly. “I don’t know many girls here. Everybody seems to be pairing off. They always do at a dance after the first hour or two, don’t you find? Let you and me pair off, shall we?”

“I’m afraid there are lots of other people I must dance with,” Patricia said hastily. She wished with all her heart at that moment that she was not staying in the house. If she had not been staying there she could have gone home, but as it was, it would be difficult to go to bed before the others.

Lady Brierleigh suddenly banged on the table with the handle of a knife. Immediately the babble of conversation ceased all over the room. There was complete silence. She stood up. “I have an announcement to make,” she began in a clear ringing voice. “Two announcements, as a matter of fact—two very happy announcements. Mary Leslie and Johnny Grey are engaged to be married, and Camilla Grey and Jim Ossory are also engaged. I feel very happy indeed to think that this little party of ours should have turned out so romantically. Now, everybody, let us stand up and drink to the health and happiness of the engaged couples!”

Everyone in the room immediately stood up except the couples in question, who happened to be sitting at the same table. They looked happy but embarrassed as their healths were drunk. Johnny and Mary were holding hands under the table but not looking at each other. Camilla was the most self-possessed of the four. Jim was looking at her as if he wanted to eat her. Someone began to sing “For They Are Jolly Good Fellows,” and the whole room took up the chorus.

Patricia felt the tears pricking in her eyes. She suddenly thought of her cousin Edward. She had not thought of him for weeks, but she was thinking now how glad she was that he was not there. How hurt he would have been, for he really had loved Camilla. But he would get over it. She was sure that he would get over it. He was not really the marrying kind, and although he had been in love with Camilla he had not really wanted to settle down. The news of Camilla’s engagement would no doubt hurt him dreadfully, but it would only be a temporary hurt He possessed such gaiety and resilience. He would get over it, and he was certainly generous enough to wish Camilla happiness.

But all the same, she was infinitely glad that he was not there to see Camilla’s radiant face. She wondered how she would have felt herself if she had had to sit there listening to an announcement of Anthony’s engagement, and at the mere thought such pain pierced her heart that she had to hold on very tight to the arm of her chair to prevent herself from crying out. Oh, it was dreadful to love someone as much as she loved him and know that your love was not returned.

Her mind had wandered right away from her surroundings, but now she was brought back to the present by cries of “Speech, speech!” Johnny and Mary were looking at each other in dismay, and Camilla was nudging Jim. At last it was Jim who got up. “I don’t know why I should be the one to make a speech, considering I’m a stranger here,” he began humourously, “but perhaps that’s why.” Everyone laughed. “I just want to say—and I’m speaking for all four of us—that we are terribly happy, and terribly touched by your good wishes.” And he sat down with a bump amidst laughter and applause.

He whispered to Camilla, “I’m afraid that was a rotten speech,’ but she whispered back, “No, darling, it was perfect.”

After this, couples began drifting back to the drawing room to dance. Charlie asked Patricia to come and dance with him, but she was determined to stay at the table as long as Anthony was there, so she asked Charlie to get her some more to eat, although she did not want it in the least

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” he said.

“There is a French saying,” she replied. “Don’t you know it? ‘
L’app
e
tit vient en mangeant
.’ ”