“Well done, old lad. A sterling job of respectability,” Luke crowed.
“Hard work,” Marcus muttered, lighting his cigar from a candle and taking a long draw, while receiving one or two looks from nearby guests who had spotted him.
“I have been doing my part. Fielding questions from those who have caught onto the fact that we are friends. Do you know, they say you are a recluse? That you haven’t left this house in five years?”
Marcus snorted. “That is not so far from the truth.”
“They also say that you are the practitioner of Satanic rites, that you are a spy for a foreign power, and that you are at the heart of a smuggler’s ring. Among other even more outlandish theories.”
He laughed as he recited the list and Marcus could not help but join in. He perused the crowd, wondering if this evening would in fact go some way to demonstrating his respectability. To repairing the damage done to the Roy family name by his father.
“I am not my father. Neither a womanizer nor a gambler. Nor a brute,” he finally said.
“I’ll speak to that. And I have been for the last hour, rest assured. We’ll win them over, wehaveto… don’t you worry,” Luke replied optimistically.
Marcus was about to reply when something caught his eye in the direction of the stairs. Tilting his head, he saw the young woman descending the staircase tentatively, one hand to the banister as though afraid she might fall without it. She wore a plain, gray dress such as the maids wore. It had been provided for her from the wardrobe of one of them. Her hair was a gold radiance about her head, emphasizing the sapphire gleam of her eyes and paleness of her skin.
The sight of her took his breath away, as it had done every time he had seen her since her arrival. Each glimpse of her felt like the first. A number of murmurs arose from the gathered throng as others caught sight of her. Heads began to turn. Voices began to quieten. Marcus felt a sharp ache in his gut suddenly, and he tossed down his cigarillo, before stomping it out and rushing toward her.
* * *
Selina awoke finally but this time remembered no dreams. Again, the maid slumbered in the chair next to the bed. Selina felt even hungrier than she had the first time but thirsty most of all. The decanter and glass were closest to hand, and she poured herself some wine, filling the glass and drinking it in greedy gulps. It was sweet tasting and fruity. She took another swallow, the dryness of the wine competing with the thirst-quenching properties of the liquid.
When she felt a little less thirsty, she swung her legs out of the bed and cautiously tested her steadiness. She remembered the weakness that had struck her earlier. It remained to a degree but had certainly withdrawn somewhat. The maid snored and shifted in her sleep but Selina had no desire to wake her.
Let the poor girl catch up on some sleep. She has been watching over me for long enough.
Going to the window, remembering its view out over the Downs, she saw a purple sky and twilight reigning over the landscape. The hills themselves were black, the sun long since sunk behind them. She helped herself to another glass of wine as she padded to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. A fire crackled in the fireplace opposite the bed, but it had burned low, casting long shadows with its sullen glow.
Any heat it had been producing was much reduced and Selina felt cold in the cotton nightdress she had been dressed in.
I did not bring such a garment; I am sure of that. It must have been provided for me. It certainly does nothing to keep out the chill!
In the wardrobe, there was one dress hanging up. It was the plain, simple garb of a housemaid but looked thicker and warmer. She took it down and quickly changed, finding a pair of stockings in a set of drawers to one side of the wardrobe’s interior. The maid continued to snore as Selina pulled on the thick, gray stockings, wriggling her toes in their newfound warmth. She took another glass of wine and a bite of bread as she went to the fire, warming her hands.
I am here. Safe? Surely so, with Arthur here to protect me. Even if my father looks for me here, Arthur will not let him in through the door once I tell him what happened.
She sat for a long while, thinking of Arthur’s impossibly handsome face, not marred at all by the scar he had picked up since Selina knew him.
Except he told me he got it when he was a boy. But I knew him from childhood to adolescence. Or did I dream him telling me those things?
The earlier meeting with Arthur was hazy in her mind. She took another glass of wine and was surprised to find that she had finished the decanter. She felt a little light-headed and sat down heavily. The maid stirred in her sleep but did not wake. Selina tried to recall details. She remembered being in Arthur’s arms. She had fallen and he had caught her. She remembered…kissing him.
Oh my! That was probably not the best course of action. What was I thinking?
But the memory sent a thrill through her. The kiss had been intensely exciting, deliciously arousing. She smiled to herself as she relived it. The memory of previous kisses paled in comparison. Soft and hard, all at the same time. Warm and spreading that warmth through her entire body. Selina drummed her stockinged feet on the floor and heard a snort from the maid. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
But the woman remained asleep. Selina decided to take her leave of the room, to look around Valebridge. To find Arthur.
He must be desperately worried, wondering how I came to be here in such a way. I must tell him the truth.
Quietly and a little unsteadily, she left the room and began to negotiate her way through a veritable maze of hallways. More by luck than judgment, she found her way to a wide staircase and began to follow it down. By now, she was having to hold the banister quite firmly, feeling very unsteady. She berated herself for not being more aware of how much she was drinking, or how potent the drink was.
This is a fine way to meet Arthur after all these years!
She concentrated on disguising the ill effects of wine and was so fixed on this idea that she was not aware of the sounds made by a large group of people in the room below her. Only when she rounded a turn of the stairs did she realize that she was walking into the midst of a ball.
CHAPTER7
