Page 6

A Certain Magic Page 6

by Mary Balogh


“Ah, yes,” he said. “I hate to tell you this, Allie, but you forgot your lace cap, you know. A chaperon looks quite undressed without it. Not that I wish to discompose you, of course.”

She smiled.

“You are also forgetting to trip over my toes,” he said a minute later. “Indeed, Allie, I believe you have been spending these months taking secret dancing lessons in Bath. Have you? Is Lansing your dancing master, by any chance? He certainly minces about as if he might be.”

“You are being unkind and absurd,” she said. “You told me yourself that you lead well in the dance. You do.”

“Ah,” he said, and grinned down at her until she felt like giggling like a girl.

For it was, she was discovering, quite the most exhilarating feeling in the world to dance in such a large ballroom to music provided by a whole orchestra, instead of just a pianoforte and fiddle. And with Piers. She had never suspected that he was an accomplished dancer, though he had, of course, taught her and Web the steps of the waltz during that rainy afternoon when they had all laughed so much and agreed that it was quite the silliest dance ever to have been invented.

It was not. Oh the contrary, it was quite the most wonderful dance in the whole world.

“You are not supposed to be smiling and glowing with such enjoyment, Allie,” her partner said, amused.

“Why not?” she asked, sobering immediately.

“It is unfashionable,” he said. “Just look about you. You see the striped-waistcoated gentleman with the shirt points in imminent danger of piercing his eyeballs?”

She nodded.

“The Duke of Eccles’ offspring,” he said. “And all the gentlemen with him? All of the very highest ton, my dear. And the ladies over there?” He nodded in the direction of the west wall. “Not one of them without some sort of title. What do they all have in common?”

“Oh, nothing at all as far as I can see,” she said.“You must solve the riddle for me, Piers.”

“All bored out of their pea brains,” he said “They are all competing to see who can look most as if he wished he were somewhere—anywhere in the world—rather than right here. They are in fashion, Allie. That is the fashionable look for this Season. To be imitated at all costs if you wish to appear to be one of them. Now, enough of these smiles. Give me a look of boredom.”

“Piers,” she said, her smile spreading again until it threatened to burst out into laughter, “you are quite the most absurd person I have ever known.”

“Whatever you do, “ he said, looking at her in some horror, “don’t let loose with that laughter, Allie. I would be mortified beyond words. 1 doubt I would have the nerve to show my face at any other entertainment for the rest of the Season.”

“Seriously,” she said, “they do look bored, don’t they? Oh, I wonder why. They must have everything in the world to make them happy.”

“Except something with which to stimulate their brains,” he said. “But I tell you, Allie, it really is not the thing to appear to enjoy yourself. I tell you only the sober truth. You do not think I would lie to you, do you?”

She smiled as he grinned at her again. And she became aware, as she had when he had been dancing with Cassandra Borden earlier, that eyes followed him about the floor. Just because he was the new heir to Lord Berringer? she wondered. But that was absurd. The room was full of gentlemen who already had titles, not just the expectation of them. Although Lord Berringer was reputed to be one of the wealthiest of the nobility, he was by no means one of the most exalted.

No, Alice thought, the foolish man quite misinterpreted the interest the ton was showing in him. For most of his life he had scorned tonnish events, avoiding balls and such during his stays in London. Now he was attending those events and dressing accordingly. And he was in search of a wife.

The combination was irresistible. For Piers, quite unknown to himself, it seemed, was easily the most handsome and attractive man in the ballroom. And it was not just her partial eyes that saw him thus. The eyes of many other female guests told the same story.

“So which one should I marry, Allie?” he asked, his customary look of ironic amusement replacing the grin. “There is a wide choice, is there not? Can you advise me?”

“Gracious, no,” she said. “I am no matchmaker, Piers.”

“Maybe I should move to the East and set up a harem,” he said.

“You would probably find it as difficult to narrow the choice to one hundred and fifty as you do now to one,” she said.

He laughed and spun her into a turn at the corner of the ballroom. “Will you allow me to escort you and your niece home at the end of the evening?” he asked. “I shall probably spend the rest of the night at one of my clubs otherwise, Allie, and will wake up about noon tomorrow with a thick head. Dreadful habits one acquires in town.”

“Why do you not spend some time at Westhaven Park, then?” she asked.

He looked down at her. “I told you why,” he said. “It is lonely there, Allie, without either you or Web. If you had not taken yourself off to Bath, I doubtless would go home more often.”

“Well,” she said.

“Will you let me escort you home?”

Alice thought of Sir Clayton Lansing, with whom she had promised to dance later in the evening.

“That would be pleasant,” she said.

***

Mr. Westhaven had sent the Carpenter carriage home, to the joy of the coachman and footman, who had an unexpectedly early night for a change. He conveyed the ladies home in his own carriage, escorting Amanda to the door of the house on Portman Square and then vaulting back into his carriage to take Alice to Cavendish Square.

“Will you invite me in, Allie?” he asked when they got there. “For tea or coffee or water or something? I feel like talking to someone sensible.”

“At this hour?” she said. “Do you have any idea what time it is, Piers?”

“Just for a short while?” he asked. “Come on, Allie.”

“And do you realize how very improper it would be for me to entertain you alone at this hour?” she asked. “No, you do not, do you?”

“What nonsense,” he said. “We are such very old friends, after all.”

“You can keep your ‘old’s’ to yourself, thank you,” she said. “Oh, come along, then. I shall not sleep for guilt if I turn you away.”

“Good girl,” he said. “Will your man insist on standing at my shoulder, glowering?”

“Perkins?” she said. “Not at all. He will be sent to bed, as he always is as soon as I come home. You will have to come to my sitting room, Piers, since the lamps have all been extinguished in the other rooms. And it will have to be chocolate, I’m afraid. That is what I always have at bedtime.”

“Chocolate sounds quite appetizing,” he said, handing her from the carriage and instructing his coachman to go home. He would walk, he explained. “You are not annoyed with me, are you, Allie?”

She clucked her tongue. “Why should I be annoyed?” she said. “What could possibly annoy me about being coerced into entertaining a gentleman in my sitting room after midnight?”

“Quite so,” he said, grinning down at her as her manservant slid the bolts back and opened the door.

Chapter 5

MR. Westhaven sank into a chair and looked about him.

“This is cozy, Allie,” he said. “You must have a gift for creating coziness. It was always there at Chandlos. I used to think it was the design and size of the house that made it so much more comfortable than Westhaven, but I see now it was your touch.” He yawned as Alice handed him a cup of chocolate.

She picked up her embroidery and seated herself on a love seat. She bent her head to her work.

He watched her for a while. “ You aren’t going to marry that Lansing, are you?” he asked.

She looked up startled. “Gracious,” she said, “of course not. I am not planning to marry anyone.”

“Good,” he said. “He is too thin.” />
“What an absurd reason for objecting to my marrying him,” she said with a smile. “I take it you are objecting?”

“And, his smile is too oily,” he said.

“Poor Sir Clayton,” she said. “He tries his very best to be agreeable, and someone objects to his smile.”

“And his hair matches the smile,” he said.

Alice laughed despite herself. “But it is always neat, Piers,” she said. “You must grant him that.”

“Has he asked you?” he asked. “I’ll wager he has.”

“Last night,” she said, “when we were returning from the theater. I refused him, of course. But it was kind of him to offer.”

“Kind!” he said, picking up his cup and sipping the hot liquid. “Allie, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Don’t let him harass you. He obviously has not been discouraged, judging by the way he was hovering over you tonight at every chance. I’ll plant him a facer if he keeps on bothering you.”

Alice gave a gurgle of laughter. “What a delightful on dit for the ton that would be,” she said. “Do make sure you are in the middle of someone’s ballroom when you do it, Piers.”

He chuckled and lounged back in his chair, watching her stitch her embroidery. He yawned again.

“What do you think of Miss Borden?” he asked.

“She is very pretty,” she said, “and very alluring, I believe, despite her shyness. Certainly she attracted a great deal of attention this evening. I do not believe she missed a single set, except for the waltzes, of course.”

“Do you think I should marry her?” he asked.

“Piers.” She looked at him imploringly. “No!”

“Because I am too old for her?” he asked. “I am not quite decrepit, Allie. I am still capable of a number of activities associated with youth.” He grinned at her bowed head. “I love making you blush.”

“Your age has nothing to do with it,” she said. “If you loved the girl and she loved you, I would urge you to the marriage. But then, if that were so, you would not be asking my opinion at all.”

“Perhaps I could love her, too.” he said. “She is pretty enough, as you say, Allie. And she has other charms. And she is very biddable.”

“Oh, Piers,” she said, resting her right hand on her work and looking up at him. “Does love mean no more to you than that?”

“Well,” he said, smiling wickedly at her, “if I am to spend the rest of my life looking at a woman and lying next to her at night, her appearance is of some significance.”

“But that is not love,” she said, exasperated. She picked up her needle again and stitched on.

“What is, then?” he said. “Tell me, Allie.”

“It is physical attraction, of course,” she said. “But there is so very much more than that, Piers. If it were only beauty, what would happen when the couple grew old? There has to be a mutual respect and liking, a mutuality of mind, a companionship, a friendship.”

“And that is it? That is all?” he asked, smiling at the top of her head.

“And something else,” she said quietly. “Something in addition to all those things. Something that words cannot express. A certain magic.” She spoke more firmly. “And above all, there has to be a determination from the start to make the other happy, to put the other’s comfort and joy before one’s own.”

“Allie,” he said fondly, “all the world would be bachelor or spinster if your definition held. I might be looking forever and never find a bride. I might never breed those heirs of mine.”

She said nothing, but stitched on. He finished drinking his chocolate and put his head back against the cushions of the chair. He closed his eyes.

“What I should do,” he said, “is marry you, Allie. Don’t you think that would be a good idea?”

“Gracious!” she said, her hand stranded in midair. “No, Piers!”

But he was grinning at her, his head turned sideways on the cushion. “Have I outraged you?” he said. “I’m sorry, Allie. I was just teasing. I wouldn’t insult you by making you an offer.”

“Insult me?” She frowned.

“I would be a poor bargain, wouldn’t I?” he said. “A fellow like me. After Web. Do you find living without him very hard, Allie?”

She threaded her needle through her work and folded it neatly and deliberately. “No,” she said. “I cannot dwell on the past, Piers. It would be to deny the wonder of life. I was fortunate to have him for nine years. I have no regrets about those years. I did my best to make him contented, and he devoted his life to my happiness. Even Nicholas I would not erase from my life, despite all the pain of losing him. But all the grieving and pining and moping in the world will not bring either of them back. I have to live on. I have to find happiness with what is left. And I am well blessed. I do not find living difficult.”

The smile remained only in his eyes. “You and Web had the love you described, didn’t you?” he said.

She drew circles on her palm. After a while she nodded.

“And that leaves me,” he said. “I am taking Miss Borden driving tomorrow afternoon, you know. Or I suppose I mean this afternoon. Do you think that after last night at the theater, tonight at the ball, and tomorrow afternoon in the park, old Bosley will be having the banns read?”

“I do not know Mr. Bosley,” she said, smiling at him. “But I think perhaps he will wait for a more formal offer. Do have a care, though, Piers, unless you have definitely decided that Miss Borden is the girl you wish to make your bride.”

“I really did not intend to single her out for more attention within the next week,” he said. “But she told me over supper that all the other young bucks who surrounded her this evening frightened her. She was afraid that they were going to be calling on her uncle and inviting her out. She seemed truly terrified at the prospect and looked very grateful when I suggested forestalling them by calling early on her uncle myself and offering to take her driving. She actually looked full at me for a whole second. I think she must see me as a father figure, don’t you, Allie?”

She laughed. “A father figure? You?” she said. “I shall say to you what you said to me awhile ago, Piers. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

“That bad, eh?” he said ruefully. “Do you think your servants are tossing and turning in their beds, afraid for your virtue, Allie?”

“I would not be at all surprised,” she said. “This is highly improper, you know.”

“But you don’t really mind, do you?” he asked, getting to his feet. “It’s just me. You know you are perfectly safe with me, don’t you, Allie?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “But it is quite scandalously late. After two o’clock. Good night, Piers.”

“Good night, Allie,” he said, setting his hands at her waist. “Thank you for letting me come in. You have made me feel as you and Web never failed to do—relaxed and comfortable. I shall walk home and sleep the rest of the night away, I am sure of it.”

She smiled at him as he lowered his head and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

***

Bruce was in the blackest of moods when Alice arrived at Portman Square the following morning. The physician had been summoned and had given the incredible verdict that Phoebe had indeed succumbed to a case of the measles. She was in bed with a high fever, a sore throat, and a headache.

“It is ridiculous,” Bruce said. “A woman of forty does not have the measles.” He sounded aggrieved, as if he suspected the doctor of having deliberately given a false diagnosis.

“But clearly it is possible,” Alice said calmly. “Poor Phoebe. She must be feeling wretched.”

“What about my feelings?” the fond husband replied. “There are the children not half well yet and needing to be taken about for air. And there is Jarvis out until all hours of the night or morning, doubtless making a begger of me at the tailor’s and at the gaming tables. And there is Amanda. How am I to go on without Phoebe?”

Alice did n
ot point out that perhaps White’s and Brooks’ and any other club her brother frequented could probably survive without his constant presence for the next week or so.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Bruce,” she said. “I shall nurse Phoebe, and Jarvis shall be given the task of taking the children about during the daytime. It will give him something to do, and they will be delighted to have the company of their elder brother. As for Amanda, I am sure a week of somewhat fewer social activities will not harm her.”

“Phoebe will never recover,” he said, “She is burning with fever and worrying over Amanda.”

Alice sighed. She knew quite perfectly what her brother was going to say next.

“There is no choice in the matter,” he said. “You will have to take Amanda about, Alice. You are a widow, after all, even if you are rather young. That makes you respectable.”

Alice did not point out that she had been hoping to return to Bath within the week. She did not mention the fact that she had no wish to attend any other social function in London. What was the point? She was a widow and as such could not possibly have anything else of value to do with her life but serve the needs of her brother and his family.

“For a couple of days, then,” she said. “Perhaps we will be able to make arrangements with the family of one of Amanda’s friends to take her about after that.”

“I would not dream of inconveniencing anyone outside my own family,” Bruce said. “I cannot imagine what would make you suggest such a thing, Alice. All I am asking you to do is dress up and enjoy yourself. Anyone would think I was begging you to make some great sacrifice.”