‘What are you looking at, Miss Ella?’ enquired the blasted Wilkins, turning to follow her gaze.
‘Oh, nothing, nothing,’ she said hurriedly and, thank the Lord, it was at that exact moment we turned the corner and Edmund vanished from sight.
‘Well,’ Wilkins chuckled nervously, turning around again, ‘I guarantee you that anything we might be leaving behind is not half as interesting as what we are driving towards.’
‘Indeed?’ Ella’s voice was polite but indignant; disbelieving love-light shone in her eyes.
Anne leant forward, her curiosity peeked. ‘Is Lady Metcalf’s ball going to be that spectacular, then? Do you know something we don't?’
‘No, I fancy the ball will be pretty much like any other ball in London, though I do by no means intend to demean Lady Metcalf’s hospitality.’
‘Then what are you talking about?’
‘Forgive me.’ He smiled at us in a manner he obviously intended to be mysterious. For most of the inmates of the coach, it actually worked. ‘I should have expressed myself more clearly. It is not what we are driving towards that is extraordinary, but whom we are driving towards.’
Now he definitely had Anne’s and Maria’s attention.
‘Are we to understand that there will be a personage of special importance present at the ball tonight?’ Leaning forward even farther, Maria lost no time in asking the central question: ‘Is it a man?’
‘Yes, Miss Maria.’
The twins’ eyes gleamed, and even Lisbeth’s seemed to flicker. Mine slid shut in desperation. I knew what the next word out of their mouths would be. It started with an ‘m’. And the one after that with an ‘o’. And the one after that… hmm… let me think… with an ‘s’.
‘Married or single?’ Anne demanded.
I’m good at guessing, aren’t I?
‘Single, I believe.’
Opening my eyes again, I took a peek. If the twins' eyes had been shining before, they were ablaze now. They had sniffed prey and were preparing for the hunt.
‘You’re being very coy, Sir Philip,’ Maria accused him, giggling. ‘You’re giving us answers of one or two syllables.’
Four or five syllables, actually, Maria, but who’s counting.
‘What is so special about this man?’
‘Yes, tell us! What’s so special about him?’
Sir Philip raised an eyebrow. ‘Apart from the fact that he’s just about the richest man in the city of London?’
My eyes, which had just been about to close again, flew wide open. My heartbeat picked up and so did my breathing. Good God in heaven! The last person of whom I had heard that said… no, that couldn’t be! He couldn’t be at a ball, could he? What would he be doing at a ball? He’d told me himself he hated any and every kind of social event!
Anne’s and Maria’s eyes were blazing like bonfires now. ‘And his name? His manner? His looks?’
Sir Philip shook his head with a smile.
‘No, Ladies. You will not be getting any more information out of me. It wouldn’t do any good. He has to be seen to be believed.’
Oh my God, it’s him! I know it! It’s him!
Dear Lord, no! I was going to meet him? In a dress? With my family there, and people laughing and dancing everywhere? What the bloody hell was I going to say? What was I going to do? And most important of all, where would I hide?
Twice Surprised
By the time we arrived at Lady Metcalf's, I was a nervous wreck. And I didn’t mean some figurative-speech kind of wreck. I meant an old Spanish galleon with broken masts, a rotting hull and missing canons - and possibly with the rotting skeleton of the captain in the master cabin.
Blast, blast, blast! What am I going to do? Lord help me, what am I going to do?
The coach crunched to a halt on the gravel outside Lady Metcalf’s residence, and Wilkins leaned over to my little sister with a look in his eyes as though he’d just been hit over the head with a heavy cudgel. Or maybe he was in love.
‘You look so beautiful tonight, Miss Ella.’
‘Um… thank you, Sir Philip. You are too kind.’
‘No, I tell you nothing but the truth. And to further enhance your beauty, I wondered if you would do me the honour of wearing this in your hair tonight?’
He pulled a single white rose from behind his back. Ella paled. I could see what was going on in her head as clearly as though she had told me herself: she had accepted his attentions, even his gifts, because it was what courtesy demanded. But openly wearing a sign of his affection and thus accepting it? I could tell something in her was screaming that it would be a betrayal of Edmund, her love.