The following evening, Lavinia and Alicia were promised to Mrs. Julia Beaufort, who had organized a party for Vauxhall. Alicia dressed for it with some care but no great enthusiasm. Mrs. Beaufort was an old friend of her family, and she could not seem to understand that Alicia had long ago left the schoolroom. Alicia did not dislike her—indeed, one could not—but she did object to being treated with amused indulgence at the age of five and twenty. Yet Mrs. Beaufort’s invitations and attentions were so well-meant that she rarely refused her.
She did, however, choose one of the most sophisticated of her gowns, a sea-green gauze trimmed with bunches of dark green ribbon. To the matching wrap and slippers, she added a fan her mother had left her. It had come from China and held a delicately painted landscape in various shades of green and gray on its slender wooden panels. Alicia felt it gave her toilette a certain worldly air; surely their hostess must at last notice that she was past fifteen.
They arrived at the Beaufort townhouse at nine, and were greeted in a flurry of lavender silk in the drawing room. Though Julia Beaufort was a large woman, she always moved in sudden rushes, with much expressive gesture. Alicia’s father had once attributed her manner to the fact that she had been widowed very young and never chosen to remarry. Certainly if she saw herself as thirty, Alicia had realized, she must see the younger generation as children.
“Alicia, darling!” she cried as she enveloped the girl in a scented embrace. “It’s been an age since I’ve seen you.”
“How are you, Aunt Julia?”
“Oh, perfectly well, as ever. But let me look at you.” She held Alicia away from her ample bosom. “I declare, you are more like your mother each day. And what a sweet gown, dear.”
Alicia smiled. She wondered what the extremely fashionable, and expensive, Bond Street modiste who had made the dress would say if she heard it described so. It was, in fact, the antithesis of “sweet,” as the two of them had intended. Though not quite unsuitable for an unmarried girl, it was certainly at the limits of what one might wear. Its tiny sleeves and scooped neck showed Alicia’s lovely neck and shoulders to their best advantage. But Julia Beaufort saw only what she wished to see. “Thank you, Aunt Julia,” replied Alicia, still smiling.
“Come and sit down. The others will be along directly, and we can be on our way. Isn’t it exciting? I haven’t been to Vauxhall in, oh, two years, I believe. Somehow, I got quite out of the habit.”
“Is it to be a large party?” asked Alicia. In her experience, Aunt Julia’s guests tended to be ill-assorted.
“No, dear. A dozen or so, I think. I’m sure I asked young Teddy Dent at Almack’s last week, and he will make twelve. I thought he would be company for you.”
Alicia couldn’t restrain a grimace. Teddy Dent was nineteen and just up from Oxford. She had met him once and found him insufferably silly. But before she could find out who else was to join them, the butler announced some new arrivals, and his voice made her go very still.
“Mary!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaufort, rising and surging forward with both hands outstretched. “How divine to see you again.” She grasped her guest’s hands and held them to her bosom. “When I heard you were in town, I was bowled over. And pleased, of course. I had quite given up ever seeing you here.”
Lady Cairnyllan, who was dwarfed by her hostess, seemed to be having trouble formulating a reply. She stammered some acknowledgment of Mrs. Beaufort’s kindness.
“And these are your lovely children.” She surveyed Ian and Marianne, who stood just behind their mother. “The image of you, Mary dear.” She shifted to a penetrating whisper. “Nothing of him in them at all.”
Lady Cairnyllan, diminutive and dark beside her two tall redheaded offspring, merely looked bewildered. Ian stepped forward and gave his name and his sister’s.
When Julia Beaufort had greeted them with equal gusto, she took Lady Cairnyllan’s hand again and led her forward. “You must allow me to present an old friend,” she told Alicia and Lavinia. “Mary and I came out in the very same Season.” She tittered. “Several years ago, now, of course. And then Mary went off to Scotland, and I have not seen her since. But when I heard she was in London, naturally I called at once.”
“We have met already,” said Alicia, who had found her voice by this time. She smiled at Lady Cairnyllan and nodded, including Marianne but avoiding Cairnyllan’s eye.
“Indeed?” Mrs. Beaufort seemed disappointed. “How splendid.”
The butler reappeared, ushering in a trio of very young men, and the rest of the guests then appeared in quick succession. Mrs. Beaufort swept her party down to two carriages and, to Alicia’s annoyance, seated her between two of these sprigs, who appeared overcome by the honor and hopelessly tongue-tied. Since Marianne MacClain, in the same case opposite her, appeared oblivious to the problem, and chattered happily all the way to Vauxhall, Alicia said nothing. But by the time they arrived, she was ready to talk to even Ian MacClain. He was, at least, intelligent.
Vauxhall was lovely, however, and some of Alicia’s impatience dissolved as they approached. They went by boat, her favorite method, and she was as always pleased by the panorama of lantern-hung trees, softly lighted pathways, and colorful strollers. The lanterns made gilded green haloes among the leaves and here and there lit a bed of red or yellow flowers. Music floated over the water to them, along with a hum of talk from the boxes surrounding the pavilion.
“Oh,” gasped Marianne behind her. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
“Only my present companions,” dared one of the young men, whose name Alicia had already forgotten. He bowed to each of them in turn, and blushed. Marianne giggled.
With a sigh, Alicia turned away. They had reached the landing, and two attendants were tying up the boat. Mrs. Beaufort herded them all out and over to one of the best boxes, which she had engaged for the evening.
“Now,” she said, settling into a chair after having ordered lavish portions of the wafer-thin sliced ham and other delicacies offered, “the children may dance or stroll about the gardens together, and we can have a good talk.” Her expression as she looked at Lady Cairnyllan suggested that she meant to discover every detail of the years they had been separated.
Lady Cairnyllan seemed to shrink in her chair. Knowing Julia Beaufort, Alicia sincerely pitied her. Aunt Julia was really kindhearted, but she did not possess a great store of tact or sensitivity. She often asked questions that made her companions blanch, and pressed for answers when anyone else would have noticed their awkwardness.
“I don’t think…” began Cairnyllan.
But Alicia was ahead of him. “No, no, Aunt Julia. You can’t keep Lady Cairnyllan sitting here all evening. She must have a chance to see Vauxhall, too. If you would care to look around, I would be happy to go with you, Lady Cairnyllan. I think I know the gardens fairly well and can show you the best vistas.”
“Oh, yes,” replied the older woman, looking relieved.
“A splendid idea,” agreed Cairnyllan, speaking over Mrs. Beaufort’s protest. “I will escort you.” He offered his arm, which his mother took, and swept the two of them away before their hostess could object again. As they went, he glanced at Alicia with a grateful expression, though he said nothing.
“Let us start with the Grand Promenade,” she added. “It is this way.” Leading them away from the boxes, Alicia wished that she had not been so quick to speak. The last thing she wanted was to spend time with Ian MacClain, and from what she had seen of his mother, it seemed unlikely that she would contribute much to the conversation. Why had she put herself in this position? And after her firm resolve of last night? This brought back Cairnyllan’s insults, and Alicia’s mouth tightened.
“Julia was always so positive,” murmured Lady Cairnyllan.
“Was she?” replied Ian, sounding amused. “Did she chivvy her friends about in this way even as a girl?”
“Oh, yes.” His mother chuckled softly. “I remember once at a ball. She had no partner—she had been away from the ballroom when the set began—but she simply swept up to Ralph Johnston and stood there, looking at him, until he asked her. He said afterward that the look in her eye had made his blood run cold.”
Alicia burst out laughing, and Lady Cairnyllan started as if she had forgotten her presence. “Oh! I did not mean…”
“I understand perfectly,” Alicia assured her. She had heard the genuine liking, along with amusement, in Lady Cairnyllan’s tone. “I feel just the same. I love Aunt Julia, but she can be a bit much.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the older woman returned her smile.
“You know, I always wondered if she insisted that Mr. Beaufort offer for her,” Alicia went on. “I remember him as such a quiet, retiring gentleman. Of course, he died when I was very young.”
Lady Cairnyllan chuckled again, as if unable to suppress it. “We wondered too. He loved her; that was plain enough. But we could not imagine him getting up the courage to speak. And Julia never waited for anyone. Indeed, it took a good deal of determination to get a word in with her. So…But I went off to Scotland before they were engaged.” The warmth died out of her voice as she said this, and Alicia saw the light in her face fade, leaving behind lines of sadness. She remembered what she had heard about Lady Cairnyllan’s unhappy marriage.
“Did you ever come to Vauxhall in those days, Mother?” asked Cairnyllan, obviously trying to redirect her thoughts.
“Oh yes. It was even more fashionable then. The crowds looked quite different, of course, everyone in wigs and satin coats.” Her dark eyes grew dreamy. “What dresses we had then. I confess, today’s modes have never seemed truly elegant to me. When I was a girl, my favorite gown was of ivory satin; the skirt was caught up with garlands of roses to show an under-dress of cherry stripe. With a hoop. I wore a rose in my hair, too, all in powder, of course. You should have seen us strolling here then, Ian. It was a real spectacle.”
“And you were among the loveliest,” he agreed with a smile. Meeting Alicia’s eyes above his mother’s head, he quickly looked down again. She was deeply moved by the pity and love she had glimpsed in his face. In that moment, it was clear to her who had kept the MacClain family serene through its difficult years.
“Oh no,” said Lady Cairnyllan. “I was never a reigning toast. But I had a splendid time.” She blinked and looked around. “Lady Alicia, I beg your pardon. I am boring you dreadfully.”
“Not at all. I am very interested. You are talking of the time when my father and mother first met.”
“Yes. I’m sorry I never encountered your mother. I have heard about her beauty and wit. You remember her?”
Alicia nodded, growing thoughtful in her turn. “My strongest memory is of watching her brush her hair in the candlelight. She always insisted upon doing it herself. She had a silver hairbrush, and her hair was nearly silver, too. The light seemed to grow brighter on it, as if it shone of itself.” She looked up. “I saw her chiefly when she was getting ready to go out.”
“How old were you when she died?” asked the other sympathetically.
“Nine.” Alicia felt suddenly bereft, as she had not for years. Seeing Ian and his mother laughing together made her feel the lack of such a relationship in her own life.
Silence fell. Both Alicia and Lady Cairnyllan appeared pensive.
“Did you know Lady Alicia’s father?” asked Cairnyllan.
“The duke? Oh, yes.” His mother smiled again. “Of course, he wasn’t the duke then. He was one of the young bucks. We all thought him very handsome, but my mother warned me to avoid him.”
“Did she indeed?” responded Alicia, intrigued. “Why?”
“He was a notorious flirt. And he didn’t seem likely to settle down for quite a time. Mama wished me safely married.” Her smile wavered again.
Alicia burst out laughing. “Wait until I see him next. Papa, a desperate flirt! How I shall tease him.”
“Is he away?” wondered Lady Cairnyllan, smiling.
“He is nearly always traveling on diplomatic business.”
“And so it is just you and your cousin? Poor child.”
Alicia blinked. No one had ever characterized her as a “poor child” in her life. Quite the opposite. Cairnyllan too was struck. When he had seen Alicia tonight he had been first dazzled by her beauty, as always, then disapproving of her costume. He had forbidden Marianne just such a dress the day before. Then, with her kindness to his mother, he had begun, to doubt again. He could not seem to reconcile her behavior and her appearance.
“Look at that,” exclaimed Lady Cairnyllan, and both the young people turned.
“It is one of the Grecian temples,” replied Alicia. “There are a number of pavilions and statues scattered through the gardens, arranged in vistas.”
“Yes, I know,” murmured the other, and Alicia belatedly remembered that Lady Cairnyllan was familiar with Vauxhall. “I was talking of that group ahead of us. The gentleman looks very like…but it can’t be.”
Cairnyllan frowned a little. Alicia gazed at the group. There were several gentlemen among it. “Do you mean Lord Wrenhurst?” When Lady Cairnyllan said nothing, she added, “Or Mr. Browne? Or Sir Thomas Bentham?”
“Is it?” Lady Cairnyllan almost whispered.
Alicia and Ian exchanged a puzzled look. He appeared worried. “Another old friend, Mother?”
“What?” She glanced up almost guiltily. “Oh, it is nothing, Ian. I once…that is, we were friends long ago. I daresay he has forgotten all about me after all these years. With his own family and…is that lady his wife?” She watched the woman in conversation with Sir Thomas with narrowed eyes.
“No,” answered Alicia. “Sir Thomas is not married. There is the usual story of a broken heart in his youth.” She started to smile, but frowned instead when she saw Lady Cairnyllan suddenly pale. “What is it? Are you tired?”
“No, no. That is…yes, a little. Let us…oh! They are turning.” Indeed, the group ahead had paused, then begun strolling back toward them.
“Do you wish to go, Mother?” said Cairnyllan, preparing to guide her away.
“Yes…no…I…” They gazed at her in astonishment as she first flushed, then paled again.
“Lady Alicia,” said one of the women in the approaching group. “How pleasant to see you.”
Alicia acknowledged the greeting, and those of the others. When they waited politely for her to present her friends, she glanced at Lady Cairnyllan, who was staring at the gravel path, then at Cairnyllan, who gave her no help. With a small shrug, she made the introductions.
Sir Thomas’s reaction was as marked as Lady Cairnyllan’s had been. He started visibly, then stared until recalled by a sense of his rudeness. Fortunately, the chatter of the others covered this contretemps.
The two groups walked together toward the boxes. Alicia, very curious by this time, kept a watch on Lady Cairnyllan. At first, her eyes remained resolutely on the ground. But finally, she glanced up, found Sir Thomas gazing steadfastly at her, ducked her head again, then met his eyes. The look that passed between them then was significant. Alicia became convinced that Lady Cairnyllan was the one who had broken Sir Thomas’s heart years ago. Amused, she said as much to Ian, her voice low.
“Nonsense,” he replied. “I have never heard anything so ridiculous.” But his expression as he watched his mother hesitate, take Sir Thomas’s arm, and walk on with him was uneasy.
Alicia did not press him. But she found it difficult not to laugh. The picture of Lord Cairnyllan, flanked on one side by his vivacious sister, who was even now flirting with one of the young men in their party, and on the other by his mother, courted by an older swain, rose irresistibly in her mind.
What would he do if Lady Cairnyllan joined Marianne’s camp? The prospect rather delighted Alicia. It would surely drive the overconfident earl to distraction, and perhaps teach him a salutary lesson about his domineering ways. He needed to be shown that his own fiats and opinions were not the last word on everything.
At the same time, however, despite her satisfaction, Alicia found herself feeling a little sorry for him. He seemed so stunned by his mother’s defection. Indeed, he looked lost. But a sudden sound and burst of light put his dilemma out of her mind. “Fireworks,” she exclaimed. “They are starting the fireworks already. Let us find a place where we can see better.” And, without thinking, she took Cairnyllan’s arm and practically dragged him to a special vantage point she knew. She didn’t even notice the others drop behind.
An explosion of green opened above the trees, followed an instant later by a burst of blue. As they faded slowly, sparks drifting down, a red flowering, then a silver followed. The changing lights illuminated the tops of the trees and the upturned faces around them.
With each new burst, Alicia gave a soft sigh of gratification. She had loved fireworks since she was a tiny child, and she never seemed to get enough of them. They were one of the great attractions of Vauxhall for her.
As yet another multicolored spray of light expanded above, Alicia drew in her breath, and clapped her hands twice. Watching her, Cairnyllan was again mystified. This girl seemed to shift from one moment to the next. Not five minutes ago she had been the worldly London miss, calmly suggesting that his shy withdrawn mother had once broken hearts, and now she was acting like an excited child, absorbed in a show of fireworks and aware of nothing else. Enjoying the play of light along her throat and shoulders, Cairnyllan briefly gave up the attempt to understand anything. She was so beautiful, and tonight, at any rate, she had been so kind. He remembered holding her in his arms, and his jaw tightened. At that moment, he asked nothing more than to do so again.
“Oh, look!” cried Alicia. For the finale, there was a series of bursts, one after another: blue, red, silver, green, red. They spread with soft pops across the night sky, a new color opening before the last had faded. Sounds of appreciation could be heard from all sides.
When the last light had disappeared, Alicia relaxed and wrapped her arms around herself. “Weren’t they splendid?”
He nodded. “You’re fond of fireworks.”
“I adore them. I remember the first time I was taken to see an exhibition. I was two. Papa declares that I cannot possibly recall it, but I do.” Her pale blue eyes glowed. “After that, I begged to go at every opportunity. My parents grew quite weary of the subject, I assure you.”
He smiled. “I imagine they rather enjoyed your delight.” He pictured the small silver-haired child she must have been.
Startled by the warmth in his voice, she looked up at him. When their eyes met, a current of emotion passed between them. Alicia felt the same instant affinity she had when they met. She longed to step forward into his arms and feel again the excitement she had known there. But she knew what he would think of that. Alicia made herself say, “We seem to have lost the others. Shall we go back?” She kept her voice very cool, despite her feelings, and turned away too soon to see his hand come up and reach toward her. In the next moment, he had stifled this unacceptable impulse, and they walked to Mrs. Beaufort’s box without touching.
Yet they remained more in charity with one another than they had been since Cairnyllan arrived in London. Each felt that the new things he was learning about the other made a difference.
The box was empty, but a selection of food and drink had been brought, and Alicia could see Lavinia and Mrs. Beaufort not far off. She sat down.
“Would you care for some of this ham?” asked Cairnyllan very politely.
“Thank you, yes,” she replied.
He had started to serve her when they both saw Marianne MacClain. She was out on the dance floor, laughing with her head thrown back and whirling in a waltz with a total stranger.
Cairnyllan’s hand froze in midair, and his pleasant expression vanished. “Do you know that man?” he asked Alicia.
She did not pretend to misunderstand him. “No.” Reluctantly, she added, “He is not of the haut ton.”
“I can see that.” Throwing down the knife, he moved forward.
“Don’t.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t draw everyone’s attention by dragging her back here. Wait until the set is finished, then speak to her.”
“You expect me to leave my sister with that—”
“He can’t hurt her. They are in public view. If she should need you, you can easily…”
As they watched, Marianne threw back her head again and laughed gaily.
“Need me!” Cairnyllan’s tone was bitter. “Not likely.”
He sounded so hurt and frustrated that Alicia could not help saying, “I’m sure she looks to you for many things, if not for such close chaperonage as you choose to give.”
“If Marianne thinks she can—”
“She only wishes to enjoy herself.”
He sneered. “I don’t care for the ton’s idea of enjoyment. And I shan’t allow her to be corrupted by it.”
Watching Marianne flirt with her partner, who on closer scrutiny appeared to be a perfectly harmless young cit, Alicia almost laughed. “I wonder if it’s not the other way about,” she replied.
“Do you dare to suggest…”
“Oh, take a damper, Lord Cairnyllan.”
He gaped at her.
“You are so certain you know everything. You are quite mistaken about the ton, you know. Oh, you have reason to be. I don’t deny that. And of course there are still a few men, and women, like your father. But they decrease each year. We are not such a despicable set.” She smiled up at him.
He gazed at her face, wanting very much to believe her. He longed to forget his responsibilities, take her hand, and tell her he had been a fool to reject her at their first meeting in town. But he could not. “And what of Lord Devere?” he responded. “I suppose he is merely a charming philanthropist?”
Alicia’s smile faded. Robert was a problem; she couldn’t deny it. Again she felt that unaccustomed twinge of guilt over her part in that affair.
“And you brought them together,” he accused, his face gone hard.
“I regret it now,” she admitted reluctantly. It was hard to apologize, even this obliquely, to the man who had said so many harsh things to her. But it was only the truth. “I…I spoke to him, but…”
“About Marianne?” He looked shocked, and when she nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “I will thank you to…”
“I was trying to help. And I am quite willing to do more to make amends.” She nodded to herself. “That’s it. I’ll help you separate them.”
“No, thank you.” He looked away. “I don’t require—”
“Don’t be stupid.”
He gaped at her again. Cairnyllan was by no means accustomed to such constant, and sharp, interruption.
“Are you having any success?” She indicated Marianne. “You are handling her all wrong.”
“I know my own sister!”
“Perhaps so. But you are not acting as if you did. You put her back up at every turn. You goad her into defiance. If you keep on the way you are going, you will most likely push her into some really imprudent rebellion.”
He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. He had to admit the fairness of her statement.
“She might be more willing to listen to an outsider, one who has some standing in society. Who better to help you than I?”
He met her eyes. Did she mean that she knew all about such affairs? But again, her argument was valid.
“So?” finished Alicia.
“I should prefer—”
“…to be in Scotland. We all know that. But you are here and must make the best of it.” Alicia was feeling irritated. After all she was offering her help despite all he had done to her. She needn’t have. The fault was not all her own; Marianne could have ignored Devere. Alicia rather thought Cairnyllan should jump at her offer rather than complain. Perhaps she would withdraw it.
“Very well,” said Cairnyllan grudgingly. “Thank you.” He did not look grateful.
Alicia nodded curtly. And they were equally relieved to see Lavinia and Mrs. Beaufort returning to the box, their tongues wagging at a great rate.