CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #2
All too soon they reached their destination, and now her eyes seemed to take over from her ears, darting about the grounds, attracted by colourful lamps at the entrance.
It was not until they reached the central rectangle, however, that seemingly thousands of lamps sprang into service together in a brilliant panoply that rendered the girls speechless — but only for an instant.
“Oh, my goodness, this is the most gorgeous sight I’ve ever seen,” Lucy gasped, turning around to stare in all directions, “even more spectacular than the opera house! Are those curving lines of little booths the boxes where we’ll hear the concert and eat supper?”
Her father confirmed her supposition and gathered his little flock together to steer them to the box that would be theirs for the evening.
They had scarcely admired the handsome painting decorating their box and settled themselves into chairs to observe the passing throng when Lord Hastings and Mr. Castle materialised from the colourful parade with smiling greetings.
The gentlemen were too well-mannered to show themselves less than satisfied to remain chatting together as a party, so it was not until her parents spotted some acquaintances strolling past and hailed them that Lucinda whispered eagerly, “Mama, may we go off to see the rest of the gardens and where they show the famous waterfall? We’ll be perfectly safe in company with Mr. Castle and Lord Hastings. ”
“I have complete confidence in the gentlemen’s ability to keep you from disgracing us by displays of unseemly high spirits,” Mrs. Cahill said with a laugh, directing their gaze to a passing group of young people distinguished by bright, tasteless finery of dress and forward manners.
“As do I,” Mr. Cahill added, sending a meaningful glance at the gentlemen in question, who hastily promised that all should be as their elders expected.
“Come back when the concert begins, my love,” Mrs. Cahill requested. “There will be ample time after the first act to explore the far reaches of the grounds.”
The girls were eager for a closer look at the elaborately tiered and lighted stand where the orchestra was tuning up, so the foursome entered the orbit of the circling mass of humanity.
“I had no idea what to expect tonight,” Laura confided to Lord Hastings as they fell a little behind the others for easier progress. “So many people milling about, and from all walks of life, seemingly.”
“Yes, one needs only the modest price of admission to become part of the spectacle, which is why careful parents see that their daughters are well escorted. At the beginning of the season there can be upwards of ten thousand people jostling each other during the course of an evening.”
“It’s very exhilarating,” she said with a sparkling glance. “The lines of lamps and the lanterns in the trees give the scene a fairytale quality.”
Jack smiled in sympathy and the warmth of his expression caught at her throat. “I have never seen you wear white before. You belong in a fairy scene, looking as lovely as you do tonight.”
“On behalf of my mother who chose the fabric and design of my gown, and my maid who dressed my hair, I thank you, sir,” she replied, striving for lightness.
“You forgot to credit the Creator who fashioned your face and figure,” Jack countered dryly. “Why do you disdain compliments, you unnatural female?”
“I … I don’t,” she protested under his searching look.
“Not always,” she temporised hastily, trying for truth.
“I … I did not disdain being told that I didn’t have airs and graces like some women.
” She directed a shy but earnest look into the eyes of the man who had trampled on all her pre-conceived ideas of the masculine sensibility.
She sensed rather than heard his quick intake of breath.
“I also said you had a kind heart,” Jack reminded her, stopping dead in the middle of a stream of humanity.
“I devoutly hope your heart is too kind to toy with me, Laura. Is it?” he whispered, covering her gloved fingers on his arm with his other hand as he bent toward her, examining her face in the flickering light from the lamps.
Stricken dumb on the spot, Laura stared into his beseeching eyes until her cousin’s voice penetrated her daze. “Shall we take a quick peek inside the Hall of Mirrors before the concert begins, Laura?”
Laura felt Jack’s grasp on her hand tighten convulsively for an instant, then he was assuring the others of their willingness to proceed.
As he urged her gently forward, elation and doubt fought for pre-eminence in her brain while she mechanically put one foot in front of the other in response to his subtle guidance.
Had she understood the significance of his words — or read too much into a simple question?
Was he merely employing the semi-flirtatious coin of the realm that passed for dialogue between the sexes, or was he sincerely worried about her probable response to any resumption of his suit?
This momentous internal debate occupied her mind to the detriment of her other senses for the next few minutes.
She had no appreciable reaction to the main supper room of the gardens, though she must have made some comment acceptable to her companions, and she found herself sitting beside Jack in the Cahill box when the concert started with no recollection of actually traversing the ground en route.
The orchestra was of the highest professional standard and their programme selections were beautiful.
It was the first time Laura had ever listened to music outdoors under a starry canopy, and she was transported by the element of enchantment that permeated the atmosphere.
Jack discreetly took possession of her hand at the first soft notes, and they remained handfast throughout, which enhanced the sense of existing in a magical place where all was perfection.
All too soon the first act ended, with a general stirring of the crowd as a bell proclaimed the imminence of the celebrated cascade illusion.
Reluctantly, Laura emerged dreamy-eyed from the spell the music had cast over her.
She’d have been content to sit quietly waiting for the return of the orchestra while the music still played in her head, but Lucy was impatient to go to the location of the cascade, so Laura trailed docilely after her energetic cousin, her hand on Jack’s arm.
“Your cousin is determined not to miss any of Vauxhall’s attractions,” he remarked, a gleam of understanding in his eyes and a little smile playing about his lips.
“It is not that I do not desire to see everything, especially the cascade —” Laura began.
“But you are still lost in the pleasure of the concert,” he finished her thought.
“Do not try to keep up with Barney and Miss Cahill,” he advised, when she would have quickened her dawdling pace.
“The crowd will sweep us along eventually. I have not spied Miss Albright’s party as yet.
Are the Chandlers still expected to attend tonight? ”
Laura was about to assure him on this point when her name was called loudly enough to be heard over the buzz of the moving throng.
She and Jack turned to see Dolly Chandler hurrying to catch up with them, weaving a precarious path between parties ploughing forward in solid masses.
Laura and Jack reversed their direction as the girl was jostled and narrowly escaped falling.
“Good evening, Miss Chandler,” Laura said as Jack steadied the flustered girl with a hand on her arm. After glancing around, she returned puzzled eyes to her cousin’s friend. “Are you alone at the moment, Miss Chandler? Where is Sophie?”
“I … I spotted you heading for the cascade. Sophie isn’t here. She asked me to give you this at the end of the evening, but … but I saw you, and … here!”
Laura accepted the paper thrust at her by the girl, who now looked more distraught than might be expected at the near-accident. She was wringing her hands, frantic eyes fixed on Laura’s face. “Are you unwell, Miss Chandler? What is this?”
“R … read it,” Miss Chandler implored.
Laura unfolded the paper and swiftly mastered its contents. She gasped and went rigid for an instant. “When did she give you this note?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“Do you know what she has written?”
Miss Chandler quailed under the sharp questions, shrinking from her interrogator. “Y … yes. That is why I came to you now, although I swore to Sophie that I would wait until the end of the evening to give it to you.”
“What is it, Laura? What has happened?” Jack had recovered from his initial surprise at the tense scene between the two girls and now spoke with authority.
“Sophie has eloped!”
“Eloped? With whom?”
“Martin Trent, Aubrey’s tutor. Did he come for her here and carry her off?” Laura demanded of Miss Chandler, who was near tears by this time.
“No. She said she was meeting him at the entrance where he would have a post chaise ready, and to tell my parents that she had gone off with your party.”
“I see. We’ll handle the matter from here. Thank you, Miss Chandler; you have done just as you should as Sophie’s friend. Can I count on your complete silence?” Laura asked, directing an intense look at the quaking girl.
“Yes, of course. Oh, she is wearing a deep pink gown and a white shawl.”
“Thank you,” Laura called over her shoulder as she plunged back through the advancing crowd, not even waiting to see if Jack was following.
He was matching her long strides. After a thoughtful glance at his grim-faced companion, he said, “You do not seem completely confounded by this development. Did you suspect that your cousin had elopement on her mind?”