Elyse slowly composed herself. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep very well."
Her grandmother eyed her skeptically. Elyse did look tired. There were faint circles under her eyes. And she seemed so remote, distant. It wasn't like her to be over-emotional or moody. Yet, for a moment, she'd seemed a million miles away.
A chill of uneasiness ran through the older woman. She remembered that same expression on the face of a child many years before. It had made her feel as if she'd glimpsed something else very briefly. She had that same feeling now and shivered.
"Have you had the dream again?"
Elyse smiled. "Of course not," she lied, not wanting to alarm her grandmother.
How could she tell her? How could she possibly explain that it had started again, leaving her feeling an overwhelming sadness and sense of regret. It must be a little like dying she thought, then tried to push that idea from her thoughts.
"I'll be fine. Don't worry," she reassured her grandmother.
Lady Regina wrapped an arm around her granddaughter's shoulders, taking Elyse's hand in hers as she had when Elyse was a child. "It's probably just nervousness, with the wedding only a few days away. I thought it might be better for us to remain in London so that you could rest. Sometimes I question Jerrold's judgment. What you need is a good strong cup of tea."
She slipped her arm through Elyse's and together they walked from the room.
Elyse stopped and looked back over her shoulder at the portrait. She couldn't rid herself of the feeling that somehow, somewhere, she'd known Lady Barrington. It left her feeling confused and uncertain.
How could she possibly have known a woman she'd never met, a woman who'd been dead for almost twenty years?
Damask linen, in a shade of soft gold, decorated the walls, and a pale cream-colored carpet covered the floor. The long dining table extended twenty-five feet, elegant Queen Anne lace trailing from its sides and ends, twenty-five gold place settings laid precisely on it. The mahogany chairs, all twenty-five of them, were richly upholstered in deep gold velvet, and hundreds of candles lit the room, winking from the multi-tiered chandelier overhead and the three magnificent gold candelabra on the table. At its center was an elaborate floral arrangement of delicate white rosebuds and yellow forsythia. The dining room at Fair View was aglow.
Lord Charles Barrington sat as host, Jerrold on his right. Elyse sat next to Jerrold, and her grandmother was to Lord Barrington's left. It was all very elegant, very proper, and she wanted to scream.
For the last two hours she'd listened to the casual conversation of those present. The local magistrate and his wife were there, along with the vicar, Mr. Beebe, along with others who attended for the weekend. And, for what must have been the dozenth time, she found herself watching the entrance. Then her gaze darted back to the conspicuously vacant chair in which there should have been another guest.
Her head ached and her skin felt icy. She smoothed her hands over the skirt of the pale-yellow satin gown Jerrold had insisted she wear. It was one of many he'd personally selected. She knew the reason he'd picked it. He had said that it would make her glow like a golden flower in a golden room.
At the time Elyse wasn't certain whether he was complimenting her, the room, or his own taste in selecting her clothes. She hated yellow and never chose the color. She had the distinct feeling that in the future she was headed for, she was going to be wearing a great deal of yellow.
She looked to the entrance again and swore to herself. She knew who it was she hoped to see there as Lord Barrington's voice cut through her thoughts.
"I am, of course, delighted that you could all join us in the celebration."
As he droned on, she nodded some vague response to the vicar, Mr. Beebe, at her other side. He was an ancient man with a monstrous bulbous nose and two tiny close-set eyes. His thinning hair was combed in a whorl around his head, to cover the bare spots. So much for godliness outshining vanity. But he seemed a kindly man, and he patted her hand often, remarking more than once that he'd performed several marriages for the Barrington family, though usually performed in church.
Elyse had only smiled vaguely in response. As always, Jerrold had made all the arrangements. They were to be married at Fair View, and she had no idea how many or whom had been invited.
She remembered his cool look when she'd suggested that the wedding be small. And then he'd continued to carry out his own plans, determined his wedding would be the grandest affair in all of London.
As the magistrate commented on some local poachers who were finally caught, Elyse noticed that her grandmother was involved in a lively conversation with a man she remembered only as the 'Colonel'.
He was resplendent in a red uniform with epaulettes and rows of gold braid. The sword belted at his waist had continually tripped him up, but he seemed fairly safe from it at the supper table, plying her grandmother and the other guests with his adventures while in Her Majesty's service. His gestures were wide, his voice booming. She almost expected him to seize his sword and handily fillet the roast pheasant when it was delivered to the table. The remainder of Lord Barrington's guests were no more than a blur to her.
Pheasant stuffed with apples and chestnuts was served. Baron of beef and poached salmon followed. Then there was roast dove with cream sauce and onions. The vegetables, fresh from the gardens at Fair View, were thinly sliced and had been briefly cooked in an herb sauce. As a finishing touch, they were sprinkled with slivered almonds and rose petals. And there were hot spiced peaches, apricots in sherry wine, and imported melons along with strawberries.
Red and white wine sparkled in crystal decanters. It was an elegant feast. But Elyse had little appetite. She took only the smallest portions, knowing if she refused anything she would offend Jerrold. She tried to swallow but found it difficult. She felt Jerrold's hand cover hers.
"Your grandmother mentioned that you weren't feeling well earlier. I hope it's nothing serious that will delay the wedding."
She looked up, surprised that he seemed so concerned. "I'm just a little tired."
Jerrold lifted his wineglass and took a sip. "I was beginning to think it might have something to do with our missing guest." His gaze indicated the conspicuously empty chair at the far end of the table.
"Did he leave without saying goodbye?" A faintly wheedling note came into his voice. "He seemed quite captivated with you."
Elyse pressed ice-cold fingers against her temples, trying to drive away the ache that had begun earlier and now throbbed.
