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Madeleine was utterly taken aback. ‘Hen! You’re so pretty, how could I take any young man’s attention away from you. Even if I wished to. You hold all eyes.’
‘Well, as Edwin explained at dinner the other night, there’s no accounting for some men’s tastes, or behaviour.’ Her cousin was looking at Madeleine in a speculative way and said, almost to herself, ‘Dressed like that, though, you’re no longer such a plain little mouse.’
Madeleine had been thinking a great deal about the advantages of beauty and wealth and she longed to be able to discuss her thoughts with someone else. ‘Hen, you know how life is often considered to be a game of cards or Hazard, a kind of mixture of strategy and luck?’
‘No, I don’t think about it at all. Have you been speaking to Edwin? He gets some shatter-brained ideas from his university friends.’
‘Not with Edwin, just with myself. I think we are given our cards at birth, and being beautiful, as you are, gives you an extra card to play in the game of life. If you’re rich as well, then you are doubly lucky and more than likely to win the trick.’
Miss Lockhart was exasperated. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What trick?’
‘I suppose I mean you come out a winner and get to have a choice and therefore a better chance of having what you desire, of being happy, or at least content?’
‘Really, Maddie, I haven’t got time to talk philosophic fingle-fangle. Help yourself to a shawl and leave me to my toilette.’
Madeleine walked to the dressing room and there on a shelf were her cousin’s shawls, folded and interleaved with tissue paper, ordered by her maid as the colours of the rainbow. They looked a work of art in themselves. Madeleine chose a shell-pink one and, wrapping it round her shoulders, thanked Miss Lockhart and returned to her room. She still had two hours before they were due to leave and so took out her notebook and began to read.
So engrossed was she in her story that Madeleine was startled to hear a knock and see Dot poke her head around the door. ‘Pardon me, Miss Rose, but Lady Lockhart has asked me to find you. They’re ready to go.’
She didn’t have time to worry about how she looked so asked Dot, ‘Will I do?’
‘You look very fine, Miss.’ Dot’s dark eyes were shining with pride, as if she had wrought this transformation herself.
And indeed, Madeleine was pleased to notice that when Lord Lockhart first caught sight of her, he paused for a moment, as if uncertain about how to treat her now that he could no longer patronise her in his unthinking way.
Lady Lockhart too narrowed her eyes. ‘There you are, Madeleine. We must hurry. Mr Paget is travelling from Oxford and we meet at the supper boxes.’
This was Madeleine’s first visit to Vauxhall and a tingle of expectation sped through her veins. She knew something exciting would happen; it felt like the air was vibrating as it did before a storm, and the cloudless sky was darkling into dusk.
When the Lockhart party arrived at the Gardens, Madeleine’s senses were almost overwhelmed by the spectacle. To one used to candles as the illumination of the night, the brilliance of the gaslit globes of light strung in garlands through the trees and across the colonnades, temples and rotundas was so dazzling to the eye, she blinked in wonder. Small groups of men and women drifted in and out of the shadows, the women in beautiful dresses, some in fantastical costumes, the men too in anything from evening dress to the draperies of mythical gods or heroes of old.
The buildings belonged in dreams or illuminated fairy tales. She could see a Chinese temple in the distance and triumphal arches among the trees, everything lit by this almost magical brilliance, as bright as day. It was too much to take in. Madeleine grasped Lord Lockhart’s arm and asked in an awed voice, ‘Is it always as full of marvels as this?’
He glanced down at her in surprise, then patted her hand. ‘Well, I don’t think it as marvellous as you do, but yes, all human life is here; every dandy and cock of the walk, every pilfering pickpocket and scurvy scapegrace is on the strut, bold as brass.’ He watched her eyes widen and continued with relish, ‘And the women are mostly strumpets, from the penny doxies to the Prince’s tuckers-up, although don’t let my mother know I’ve been ungentlemanly enough to say such to you.’
‘I don’t think it ungentlemanly if it’s the truth. Life is my subject.’ Then, on the spur of the moment, she added, ‘And love is my song.’ And laughed with infectious gaiety at her presumption.
Edwin Lockhart cast her a piercing glance. ‘What an odd little creature you are.’
They were walking as a group up the gravelled Grand South Walk in search of their supper box and Mr Paget. Suddenly, Henrietta Lockhart called, ‘Look, Mr Shilton.’
There in the middle distance strolled his elegant form, but Madeleine almost did not recognise him in his restrained grey coat and pantaloons. Missing the beautifully cut jackets in sky blue and sea green that she had glimpsed him wearing in the previous weeks as he rode past her door, she wondered if perhaps he was in mourning.
They were following in his footsteps just a few yards behind and Miss Rose was aware of the pretty young woman on his arm. He was paying her solicitous attention, bending his head to hear what she had to say, her arm curled possessively through his. As she turned to look winsomely into her companion’s face, Edwin Lockhart recognised her. He turned back towards his mother and in a fierce whisper said, ‘Look, Mama, who is hanging on Mr Shilton’s arm. That pretty, prim chit, daughter of the wanton Mrs Payton. You recall the schoolboy and the deadly duel!’ His face was mischievous. ‘And what’s more, he appears to be courting the girl.’
‘Edwin! Your loose talk is not appreciated when there are two young women present. What do you know anyway of the scandal? You were an even more youthful schoolboy yourself.’
‘Oh dear Mama, how surprisingly naïve you are! Servants know everything and they gossip incessantly, and about us. How can you keep a curious-minded boy of ten from learning all there is to know?’
Lady Lockhart’s naturally severe features softened as she looked at her son with undisguised indulgence.
Both her daughter and her niece saw the rare affection of this glance and thought, with differing emotions, that the golden boy could do no wrong, and his mother was prepared to sacrifice anything or anyone to promote his interests.
Lord Lockhart continued in his raillery, ‘Looks like you and every other predatory mama will have to cross another victim off your blood-splattered list!’
‘Edwin! Stop your fooling and find your friend, or else we will lose him to the crowd.’
When Madeleine looked again at the pressing throng of pleasure-seekers, Mr Shilton and his companion were gone. She felt uneasy and a vague melancholy settled on her spirit. Her beautiful dress would glow unseen by anyone who mattered.
