The Master of Phoenix Hall (12 page)

Laurel Mellory saw me, and she became very quiet. I saw that her face was lined with fatigue. The curious blue stain was still about her eyelids, giving that haunting look, and the animation died away, leaving a pale, tired face marked with sadness.

“You are Miss Angela Todd, aren't you?” she asked.

I nodded, smiling. She smiled, too, a faint smile.

“I meant to come visit you after your accident. Something came up, and I didn't get to come. I had some chicken broth.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I said.

“It is nice to see that you are all right. I have wanted so to meet you. I knew your aunt. You've been making friends with Paul? I am glad. I do hope we can be friends, too.”

“We had better go, Laurel,” Paul Mellory said. “You look tired. I have had enough.”

“Oh, but I so wanted to see the Maypole Dance,” Laurel protested.

“You're overstimulated as it is. You know how you have to pay for these excitements. Days in bed, cold cloths on your head, nerves. You mustn't make it worse. Roderick will be displeased.”

“Yes,” Laurel said, very quietly. “We must go. We must not let our brother be displeased.” She turned to me, unsmiling. “It has been nice meeting you, Miss Todd. I hope we will see each other again soon.”

“I hope so, too, Miss Mellory.”

Paul Mellory exchanged glances with me. I felt that we had some secret understanding between us. Laurel tucked the rug tightly about his knees, fussing over him as though he were a child, then got behind the chair to push him to their carriage. The lock of hair was still on his tanned forehead, and the dark brown eyes were secretive now, uncommunicative. He did not look back as his sister pushed the wheel chair away. I watched until they vanished around the corner of a tent, wondering about this strange couple and the life they must lead at Phoenix Hall.

Greg came to find me, surrounded by his flock of schoolboys. He was as excited as they were, and it was plain to see that he had enjoyed the canoe rides equally as well. Mr. Stephenson had decided to rest for a while, and Greg had promised to let them all ride the carousel before they left the grounds. It was already getting late, and soon the Maypole Dance would begin. Both Greg and Mr. Stephenson felt the boys should leave before that took place. The boys flittered around Greg like a flock of sparrows in their little brown suits, tugging at his hand, asking him questions, urging him to hurry and put them on the carousel. He smiled at me over all this and together we took the boys to the carousel and put each one on a brightly painted horse.

The calliope music was bright and gay. The horses went bobbing around rapidly, faster and faster. Greg and I stood watching, and he held my hand, almost unconsciously. He had taken it naturally as though it were the expected thing, and I felt his fingers tighten on mine as we watched the boys. He was laughing at their antics, and I watched his face. His gray eyes with their specks of green were full of boyish delight. He might be dissatisfied with his lot as a teacher, I thought, but he was certainly enthusiastic about it, doing his job with relish and commanding the love and respect of his young students. I pulled my hand away as Mr. Stephenson came to join us.

The carousel was slowing down. The boys were emitting loud groans of disappointment, knowing that their day of fun was coming to an end. The calliope music became jerky, spasmodic, then blurted to a stop as the horses jerked to a standstill. The boys climbed off reluctantly and Mr. Stephenson helped Greg herd them all together.

“We'll take them back to school,” Greg said. “I can come back in a little while, after we see that they're all fed and put to rest. Will you wait for me, Angela?”

“Yes. I want to see if I can find Nan. You'll be back in time for the dance?”

“Or shortly thereafter.”

“I'd hate for you to miss it,” I said.

He grinned. “I've seen a dozen of them. All this is new for you, but the first excitement has long since rubbed away for me.”

He left, helping his colleague escort the by-now-dejected boys off the fairgrounds and back to their dormitory rooms at the school. I began to look for Nan. I had caught glimpses of her off and on all day, but I had not talked to her since she darted away to the fortune-teller's tent with Billy. I saw Billy now, leaning against a tree trunk and looking surly and morose. He wore rust-colored trousers and scuffed, dusty brown boots. His coarse linen shirt had enormous gathered sleeves, and there was leather lacing at the throat in lieu of buttons. His handsome face was uncharacteristically grim, the mouth turned down at the corner and the penny-colored eyes flat and hard. I imagined that he and Nan had had one of their spectacular quarrels.

“Where is Nan, Billy?” I asked.

“You'll have to ask Dereck Miller about that,” he snapped.

“Dereck Miller? Who is he?”

“Your Nan can tell you all about
him
.”

“Oh, Dear—”

“Me, I'm havin' nothing more to do with her.”

I left him leaning against the tree trunk, scowling bitterly over my minx of a maid. I found Nan a little later. She was at one of the booths, accepting a piece of cake held out to her in the palm of a boy who must be Dereck Miller. He was extremely tall, over six foot, with thick, dark blond hair and adoring blue eyes. Several of the Lockwood girls a distance away were eyeing him appreciatively, but he only had eyes for Nan. She took the cake from his palm and nibbled on it. Chocolate crumbs drifted to the ground.

“Nan,” I cried, going over to them.

“Oh, Miss Angel! I've got so much to tell you.” She turned to the boy, dismissing him. “See you at the dance. Don't forget to jump in front of my ribbon. There, he's gone. Isn't he lovely, Miss Angel? Did you see those arms. He pitches hay. That develops the muscles. And he has such sweet eyes. He's dumb, of course, like all these lads, but beautiful nevertheless.”

“What happened between you and Billy?”

“Oh, he's such a lout! He made fun of me for having my fortune told. Then he wouldn't buy those nice red ribbons for my hair. I'm all through with him, Miss Angel. I can tell you that right now.”

“You're heartless, Nan.”

“I'm tired of his bossiness. Besides, Dereck is so much nicer.”

We strolled about the grounds and Nan told me about all the things that had happened to her, spending most of the time extrolling the virtues of her new conquest. I heard the history of Dereck Miller and all about how he won wrestling matches and weight lifting contests and had won a little doll for her at the shooting gallery set up on the grounds here. She looked charming in the green and white striped dress adorned with countless flouncy pink ruffles. She skipped and danced about the fairgrounds like a delighted child, having the time of her life. She told me that Dereck had taught her the steps of the Maypole dance. She was going to dance with the other girls, even though she was not from Lockwood, and she was very excited about that.

The electric air of anticipation had grown stronger now. Most of the children had been sent home. The sun was beginning to stain the sky with scarlet and gold, and a soft blue twilight was thickening. It was almost time for the dance to begin. People began to shuffle around the Maypoles, wanting to get a good position in which to watch. The musicians had come and were tuning their instruments. The colored lanterns had been strung up over the wooden dance floor, suspended from the limbs of the oak trees. The crowd was restless, noisier than before. I saw many more goatskins of wine, and already a few of the older men were walking unsteadily, pushing people out of their way.

I looked around anxiously for Greg. A young man came up to me and asked me if I was Miss Angela Todd. When I nodded he told me that he had a message for me. One of the boys had gotten sick, he said, and Mr. Ingram had asked him to inform me that he would not be able to come back just yet. It would be after dark before he could get away. I was disappointed, as I had wanted to watch the dance with Greg, but there was nothing I could do.

A signal was given and the girls moved to the Maypoles, picking up their designated ribbons. The crowd moved back, clearing the area. Nan pranced among the Lockwood girls and took her ribbon, bowing saucily to the others. She plucked a pink rose from her ribbon and fastened it in her curls. The boys formed circles around the outer edges of the poles, eager to perform their part in the ritual dance. Each girl raised her ribbon up and stood poised, ready to execute the intricate steps of the dance. The music began, a gay, lilting tune, and the girls moved in unison, skipping, dipping, waltzing, twining their ribbons about the tops of the poles.

It was a beautiful dance, I thought, bright, merry, filled with exciting symbolism as the ribbons wrapped the poles and then were unwound so skillfully by the young girls who moved on light feet, keeping perfect time to the music. The girls were all smiling, cheeks flushed pink with excitement, eyes sparkling, skirts sashaying and hair flying as the tempo quickened. Nan danced with great vivacity, keeping step with the best of them. I saw many of the boys watching her. Billy stood on the outskirts of the crowd, still scowling, watching Nan with angry eyes. Dereck Miller stood in place with the rest of the boys who were going to dance.

The music grew louder, wilder, and upon signal the boys began to dance in and out of the circles, leaping in front of the girls and moving back and forth in a highly suggestive manner, executing little jump steps that kept them always just out of reach. The dance took on a lusty, robust quality, sensual and unabashed in its symbolism. I was a little shocked, but the crowd loved it. They shouted cat calls, making lewd suggestions and offering advice to the boys. They roared with delight as the boys eluded the ribbons, taunting the girls and then allowing themselves to be caught. It was a colorful spectacle, healthy, red-blooded young bodies moving rapidly, ribbons flashing in red, blue and green swirls, flowers coming unfastened and dropping in showers of petals on the dancers. The music grew more intense, the dancers whirled faster and faster until it seemed they would drop with exhaustion, and finally each boy and girl were wrapped in rolls of colored ribbon, imprisoned together and in each other's arms as the music stopped. They were panting, swaying together, joyous in their cries of delight. Nan was leaning against Dereck Miller's chest, her arms about his back. He was grinning, holding her very tightly. The crowd applauded with the sound of thunder, and the couples ran off the green together, holding hands, broken ribbons flying from their shoulders.

“Did you enjoy the spectacle, Miss Todd?”

I whirled around. Roderick Mellory was smiling at me. He must not sense my alarm, I thought, and I tried to remain very cool. His dark eyes were filled with amusement, and his lips were curled up in one of those mocking smiles I remembered so well. My cheeks reddened as I realized that he must have been standing there for a long time, watching me and watching my reactions to the primitive dance.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Since shortly after the dance began.”

“Spying on me,” I snapped.

“Call it that if you like. I was interested to see how you would react to some of our local customs.”

“Why?”

“Because I am interested in you, Miss Todd.”

“Interested in me? I wonder. I suppose you would like to discover all my weaknesses and shortcomings so that you could use them. I am sure it would please you to find something to use against me.”

“You're not very flattering, Miss Todd.”

“I certainly can't think of any other reason why you should be interested in me, Mr. Mellory.”

“You're not very imaginative, either.”

“Should I be?”

“Most young women are.”

“I'm not like most young women.”

“I'm beginning to see that.”

I could think of nothing to say in return. The crowd had dispersed, moving away in various directions. Night was falling fast now and the shadows were thickening. Over the wooden dance floor the soft, hazy lanterns were like splotches of color, moving slightly in the breeze. Many of the couples had disappeared. Some of them strolled around over the fairgrounds, giggling and embracing, and others danced under the lanterns. I had no idea where Nan and her new beau had gone.

“If you'll excuse me, Mr. Mellory, I must go look for my maid.”

“Where is your escort? You didn't come alone?”

“Mr. Ingram brought me. He had to take the boys back to school and was detained.”

“How unfortunate for Greg. How fortunate for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely you realize that you can't run around here alone. This is the one night when things like—the incident at Phoenix Hall are the accepted thing. A woman alone would be inviting such things.”

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

“Not particularly. I'm trying to make you see why my company is desirable for you tonight.”

“Your company would not be desirable under any circumstances, Mr. Mellory.”

His lips turned down in an ugly frown. He gripped my arm. “I am not going to argue with you,” he said harshly. “You are the stubbornest young woman I have ever met. So stubborn it is likely to get you into a lot of trouble one of these days.”

“Is that a prediction—or a threat?”

“A threat?”

“I got your note, Mr. Mellory.”

“Note?” he said. “What note?”

“Surely you aren't going to deny sending it? Last night a man threw a rock through my window. A note was tied around it. It told me to leave Dower House—before it was too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“I'm sure you would know more about that than I.”

“A man threw it, you say? Did you get a look at him?”

“It was very dark, Mr. Mellory. I couldn't see him clearly enough to determine any features. That should relieve you somewhat. I am sure you could describe him for me in detail.”