Part 12 (1/2)

She linked her arm through Torilla's.

”It is going to be amusing when we get to London. Gallen told me tonight that he is not joining us for a few days, so you will be able to meet Lord Newall. I am longing to hear what you think about him.”

”Oh, Beryl, is that wise?”

”It may not be wise, but it is a lot of fun!” Beryl replied. ”And don't try to stop me, Saint Torilla. Every woman is ent.i.tled to a last fling before her wedding day.”

She kissed her cousin and whisked off into her own bedroom before Torilla could reply.

Torilla lay awake for a long time thinking over the day and remembering with a sense of embarra.s.sment all that she had said to the Marquis.

Could he be thinking over what she had told him, she wondered, while he walked around the garden alone?

She wished now that, once having started to speak of the mine, she had talked to him quietly and earnestly, explaining the horrors of what was happening rather than raging at him accusingly.

'Perhaps that was my chance to ask him to make a few reforms,' she thought, 'and I made a mess of it.'

She felt the tears come into her eyes and gradually begin to run down her cheeks.

It all seemed such an inexpressible mix-up a the manner in which she had become involved with the Marquis and the worry she felt about Beryl marrying without love.

And most of all, although she tried not to think of it, the wonder of his kiss which she had treasured deep in her heart but which was now spoilt and besmirched because it had been a wrong.

London was, Torilla thought, even more fantastic than she had expected.

Her Aunt Louise had greeted them in characteristic style by telling Beryl sharply that she should have been there earlier and hoping that Torilla intended to help rather than hinder her cousin.

It was just like the old days, Torilla thought, with her aunt breaking up their games because it was time for bed, or punis.h.i.+ng them for quite inoffensive actions and ignoring completely those that were far more reprehensible.

The Countess of Fernleigh was different in every way from her younger sister Elizabeth.

Sometimes Torilla wondered if the reason she was often so sharp and even at times disagreeable was that she was not as happy in her marriage as her sister had been.

It was painfully obvious that the Earl and Countess did not get on together and they were, both of them, content to live most of the year apart.

The Countess, who was still extremely good-looking, had a large number of admirers who were always ready to squire her in her husband's absence.

As the Earl was completely content, as he put it, with his horses and dogs they both lived the lives they wanted, which did not include each other's company.

'Perhaps all women need the protection of a husband,' Torilla thought, but it was obvious that the Countess thought in many ways she was misused.

”I suppose your father, as usual, is going to do nothing about the wedding, and leave everything to me,” she said sharply soon after Beryl and Torilla arrived at Fernleigh House in Curzon Street.

”You know what Papa is like, Mama,” Beryl replied.

”I do indeed,” the Countess said acidly, ”and I only hope he is prepared to meet the bills without making too much fuss about them.”

”I am sure he will do that, especially if we don't ask him to do anything else except to write his name on the cheques.”

”As long as he does that I suppose I must accept the inevitable,” the Countess remarked. ”The first thing we must do tomorrow is choose your gown and, I suppose, Torilla's.”

”It is very kind of you, Aunt Louise,” Torilla said humbly.

”I cannot think why Beryl wants you to be her only bridesmaid,” the Countess said in the tone of one who is determined to find fault. ”I should have thought a retinue of at least ten would have been very effective.”

”I wish on my wedding day to be alone in my glory,” Beryl said positively, ”with, of course, the exception of Torilla. She can hold my bouquet, while a lot of gawky girls clumped behind me would spoil the whole effect.”

”I see your point,” the Countess agreed reflectively. ”Is the Marquis sending the flowers for the Church from The Castle?”

”I have not the slightest idea,” Beryl answered. ”I leave those details to you, Mama.”

”As I might have expected a I have to organise everything,” the Countess moaned. ”What you would do without me I cannot think.”

Beryl threw out her hands.

”If you want me to say there would be a complete muddle, all right, Mama, I have said it!”

”You wait until you have to do everything yourself,” the Countess said warningly, ”you will then appreciate my difficulties for a change.”

”You love every moment of it, Mama!” Beryl retorted. ”You know quite well that, if Torilla or I tried to interfere, we should soon be put outside the front door.”

She laughed and added, ”Arrange everything your own way and don't forget you have to twist the Prince Regent around your little finger.”

”I can do that when it comes to ceremonial occasions,” the Countess said smugly. ”His Royal Highness always says he likes my quite professional powers of organisation a which is more than can be said for that fatuous Lady Hertford.”

”He loves her, Mama.”

”G.o.d knows why,” the Countess muttered.

She flounced out of the room and Beryl laughed as she said to Torilla, ”Poor Mama! She set her cap at the Prince Regent at one time, but she was a little too young for him and much too thin. He likes fat, maternal, elderly women, and Mama did not qualify!”

When she saw the Prince Regent and met him the following night, Torilla could not imagine at first why anyone was interested in him as a man.

But she found when he talked to her that he had an aura of irresistible charm that made one forget that he was enormously fat, almost gross-looking, or that his face was heavily powdered and his stays creaked when he sat down.

”You are very pretty, my child,” he said to Torilla, ”and like your cousin you will soon have the Beaux buzzing round you like bees round a honeypot.”

”I am afraid I can never compete with Beryl, Sire,” Torilla smiled.

”A very captivating young woman who has proved it by capturing the most captivating bachelor in captivity,” the Prince said.

He liked the play on words and Torilla heard him repeating the sentence several times during the evening.

Everyone was asking where the Marquis was, in fact his name seemed to be on everybody's lips, and more than once Torilla heard in the crush at Carlton House remarks which made her apprehensive.

”The 'incomparable' does not know what she is taking on where Gallen is concerned!” one Beau with his back to Torilla announced.