Arabella Read online

  Mr Beaumaris, who had looked in midway through the evening – in fact, a bare ten minutes before the doors were relentlessly shut against late-comers – apparently for no other purpose than to entertain the wife of the Austrian Ambassador, saw Arabella, and was amused, guessing her emotions correctly. Suddenly he cast one of his quizzical looks at Princess Esterhazy, and said: ‘Shall I ask that chit to dance?’

  She raised her delicate black brows, a faint smile flickering on her lips. ‘Here, my friend, you are not supreme! I think you dare not.’

  ‘I know I dare not,’ said Mr Beaumaris, disarming her promptly. ‘That is why I ask you, Princess, to present me to the lady as a desirable partner.’

  She hesitated, glancing from him to Arabella, and then laughed, and shrugged. ‘Well! She does not put herself forward, after all, and I find her style excellent. Come, then!’

  Arabella, startled to find herself suddenly confronted by one of the most formidable patronesses, rose quickly.

  ‘You do not dance, Miss Tallant. May I present Mr Beaumaris to you as a very desirable partner?’ said the Princess, with a slightly malicious smile cast at Mr Beaumaris.

  Arabella could only curtsy, and blush, and be sorry to find that she was so ill-natured as to be conscious of feelings of ignoble triumph over the ladies who had been kind enough to look pityingly at her.

  Mr Beaumaris led her on to the floor, and encircled her waist with one arm, taking her right hand in a light clasp. Arabella was naturally a good dancer, but she felt extremely nervous, partly because she had never attempted the waltz, except in the Misses Caterham’s old schoolroom, and partly because it was so strange to be held in such close proximity to a man. For several turns she answered Mr Beaumaris very much at random, being preoccupied with her feet. She was so much shorter than he that her head only just reached his shoulder, and since she felt shy she did not look up, but steadfastly regarded the top of his waistcoat. Mr Beaumaris, who was not in the habit of devoting himself to such very young ladies, found this bashfulness amusing, and not unattractive. After he thought she had had time to recover from it a little, he said: ‘It is a nice waistcoat, isn’t it, Miss Tallant?’

  That did make her look up, and quickly too, her face breaking into laughter. She looked so lovely, and her big eyes met his with such a frank, ingenuous expression in them, that he was aware of a stir of something in his heart that was not mere amusement. But he had no intention of going to dangerous lengths with this or any other pretty chit, and he said, in a bantering tone: ‘It is customary, you know, to exchange polite conversation during the dance. I have now addressed no fewer than three unexceptionable remarks to you without winning one answer!’

  ‘You see, I am minding my steps,’ she confided seriously.

  Decidedly this absurd child was a refreshing change from the generality of damsels! Had he been a younger man, he reflected, he might easily have succumbed to her charm. It was fortunate that he was thirty, and no longer to be caught by a pretty face and naïve ways, for he knew well that these would pall on him, and that he wanted something more in the lady whom he would one day marry. He had never yet found just what he was looking for, did not even know what it might prove to be, and was perfectly resigned to his bachelordom.

  ‘It is not at all necessary,’ he said. ‘You dance delightfully. You do not mean to tell me that this is the first time you have waltzed?’

  Miss Tallant certainly did not mean to tell him anything of the sort, and was already regretting her impulsive confidence. ‘Good gracious, no!’ she said. ‘The first time at Almack’s, however.’

  ‘I am happy to think, then, that mine was the honour of first leading you on to the floor. You will certainly be besieged by every man present now it is seen that you have no objection to the waltz.’

  She said nothing, but fell to studying his waistcoat again. He glanced down at her, a hint of mockery in the smile that hovered about his mouth. ‘How does it feel, Miss Tallant, to be the rage of town? Do you enjoy it, or have your northern triumphs given you a distaste for this sort of thing?’

  She raised her eyes, and her chin too. ‘I am afraid, Mr Beaumaris, that you betrayed what I – what I begged you not to speak of!’

  There was a distinctly sardonic look in his eye, but he replied coolly: ‘I assure you, ma’am, I have mentioned your circumstances to one person only: Lord Fleetwood.’

  ‘Then it is he who –’ She broke off, flushing.

  ‘Very probably,’ he agreed. ‘You must not blame him, however. Such things are bound to leak out.’

  Her lips parted, and then closed again. He wondered what she had so nearly said: whether he was to have been treated to her society manners, or whether she had been about to tell him the truth. On the whole, he was glad that she had thought better of it. If she took him into her confidence, he supposed he would be obliged, in mercy, to bring this game to a close, which would be a pity, since it was providing him with a great deal of entertainment. To have elevated an unknown provincial to the heights of society was an achievement which only one who had no illusions about the world he led could properly appreciate. He was deriving much enjoyment too from observing the efforts of his devoted copyists to win the provincial’s hand. As for Arabella herself, Mr Beaumaris shrugged off a momentary compunction. She would no doubt retire in due course to her northern wilds, marry some red-faced squire, and talk for the rest of her life of her brilliant London season. He glanced down at her again, and thought that it would be a pity if she were to retire too soon. Probably, by the end of the London season he would be only too thankful to see her go, but for the present he was very well satisfied to gratify her by a little flirtation.

  The music ceased, and he led her off to the floor, to one of the adjoining rooms, where refreshments were served. These were of a very simple nature, the strongest drink offered being a mild claret-cup. Mr Beaumaris procured a glass of lemonade for Arabella, and said: ‘You must let me thank you for a delightful few minutes, Miss Tallant: I have seldom enjoyed a dance more.’ He received only a slight smile and an inclination of the head in answer to this which were both so eloquent of incredulity that he was delighted. No fool, then, the little Tallant! He would have pursued this new form of sport, in the hope of teasing her into retort, but at that moment two purposeful gentlemen bore down upon them. Arabella yielded to the solicitations of Mr Warkworth, and went off on his arm. Sir Geoffrey Morecambe sighed in a languishing way, but turned his rebuff to good account by seizing the opportunity to ask Mr Beaumaris what he called the arrangement of his neckcloth. He had to repeat the question, for Mr Beaumaris, watching Arabella walk away with Mr Warkworth, was not attending. He brought his gaze to bear on Sir Geoffrey’s face, however, at the second time of asking, and raised his brows enquiringly.

  ‘That style you have of tying your cravat!’ said Sir Geoffrey. ‘I don’t perfectly recognise it. Is it something new? Should you object to telling me what you call it?’

  ‘Not in the least,’ replied Mr Beaumaris blandly. ‘I call it Variation on an Original Theme.’

  Eight

  Mr Beaumaris’s sudden realisation that the little Tallant was no fool underwent no modification during the following days. It began to be borne in upon him that charm he never so wisely she was never within danger of losing her head over him. She treated him in the friendliest fashion, accepted his homage, and – he suspected – was bent upon making the fullest use of him. If he paid her compliments, she listened to them with the most innocent air in the world, but with a look in her candid gaze which gave him pause. The little Tallant valued his compliments not at all. Instead of being thrown into a flutter by the attentions of the biggest matrimonial prize in London, she plainly considered herself to be taking part in an agreeable game. If he flirted with her, she would generally respond in kind, but with so much the manner of one willing to indulge him that the hunter woke in him, and he was quite as mu