Chapter 40
Cecilia was glad that Bea, unlike everyone else, including herself, had had a care to Miss Pallant’s well-being, and made sure she was safely disposed with Mrs Drinkwater.
She had to admit that it had never truly crossed her own mind, until she saw what her sister was doing, to worry about what it must be like living in that house with that dreadful man.
When she had considered the matter briefly, she’d assumed that Vivienne’s status as his sister must keep her safe.
But she realised now that she had been horribly na?ve.
Lord Pallant was a man of violence – he would without question have struck her earlier if the Major had not intervened – and nobody, even a sister, maybe especially a sister, could be safe with him.
The assembly was still continuing, but the Constantines had lost their taste for it.
Cecilia didn’t want to dance with strangers any more, and neither the Major nor his brother seemed in the mood to ask again.
They were all standing around looking at each other, rather at a loss, while the people about them grew louder and more riotous in their conversation and their dancing.
Miss Macintyre took stock of the situation and decided that they should go home; the Bartrums swiftly said that they would do the same.
Cecilia realised with a stab of guilt that Rory had come back from Cambridge specifically for the party. ‘I hope that my rash actions have not spoiled the evening for everyone,’ she said, looking in consternation from one to another of the family. ‘I fear they have. I am sorry.’
‘My dear child, do put that thought out of your head,’ Mrs Bartrum told her robustly, taking her hands and pressing them.
‘And do not be thinking that you have been part of a great and unprecedented scandal, either. There is always some alarum or other at these assemblies; how can there not be, with the whole district gathered together under one roof, and Farmer Eary’s cider so terribly strong?
There used to be rum punch, you know, which was even worse, until the late Lord Synett tripped and fell face first into the bowl, insensible, and it seemed for a moment that he would drown in it.
No! You could not be expected to endure a moment longer of Lord Pallant’s revolting attentions, and indeed it was a tonic to see him given the set-down he so richly deserved.
How he reacted to that is no fault of yours. Is that not right, Alistair?’
‘Of course it is,’ said the Major. ‘I am sorry it was so unpleasant for you, Miss Cecilia, but I consider it no great matter otherwise. And as for scandal, my mother does not mention – though I cannot imagine how she has come to forget – the year when Mrs Bardwell and some mortal rival of hers arrived in gowns of the same colour and style, and almost came to blows over it; they literally had to be dragged apart like overeager prizefighters. And if you are worried about spoiling my brother’s evening, I should think on the contrary that he enjoyed it excessively.
They lead a very dull, elderly sort of life in Cambridge, you know, and it is good for him to be shaken up a little and reminded that there is a world outside his college. ’
It was impossible to persist in her apologies without discourtesy, and equally impossible to have any private speech with Alistair, much as she might have wished it.
She was obliged to say her farewells to him along with everyone else, and to part from him in the inn yard with no appearance of particular regret.
They were all very quiet on the journey home, and oblivious to the beauty of the moonlit scene.
The house was dark and still locked up securely; as Bea turned the key in the lock, she said, ‘I know we’re all tired, but I have something of importance to tell you – you too, Miss Macintyre.
Shall we undress and meet in my parlour once we have made ourselves more comfortable? ’