Lord of the Far Island, Victoria Holt [world of reading TXT] 📗

that when we were out together it was at me that people glanced. My black hair and dark blue eyes were striking and my "inquiring" nose, as Philip called it, made it seem as though I was asking a question. But at least her future was secure. We saw it happening all around us: Girls coming out into society, marriages arranged for them, becoming matrons with young children. It was all most carefully planned.

It was different for those who had to fend for themselves, as I should have to.

There had been one or two minor incidents when I had aroused the indignation of Cousin Agatha, but nothing so startling as the visit to the market or setting fire to Carrington land. When we were in the country we had to do more social work. We visited the poor and took them what Cousin Agatha called "delicacies"—usually something which she would not consider worthy of her own table; we decorated the church for harvest festival just before we left for London; we went to the gymkhana and church bazaars, where we had our own stalls. We played the parts of helpers of Lady Bountiful and in town we rode in the Row and at Cousin Agatha's At Homes we helped pass round the refreshments; we sewed for the poor; we worked for the Tories; we walked sedately in the Park and lived the lives of genteel young ladies. But then there was a subtle change. It was nearing the time when Esmeralda should come out and we were beginning to be segregated. Esmeralda was taken to the theater with her parents, and I did not accompany them. Often she went visiting with her mother now and I was left behind. The dressmaker who over the years had taken up residence in the house for several weeks at a time when there were functions ahead now settled in for a spell and worked on lovely new clothes for Esmeralda. There was nothing extra for me—only one spring, summer, autumn and winter dress—one new one per year.

I could feel that vague doom coming nearer. It was as in the dream.

Esmeralda was a little bewildered; she disliked going anywhere without me, but I was rarely with her now except for those walks in the Park and the charity visits.

The Carringtons loomed large in our lives. They were Cousin Agatha's closest friends. Lady Emily's name was mentioned twenty times a day.

Philip was often a member of a family party and he, with Esmeralda, visited the theater with Cousin Agatha and Cousin William. The play was Lady Windermere's Fan, which had been produced for the first time in February at the St. James's Theatre. I had heard that although it was a light comedy it sparkled with wit and amusing epigrams. I guessed that Esmeralda would not see the point of it.

I watched them leave in the carriage and I saw them come back. When Esmeralda came up I waylaid her and made her tell me about the play. She gave me a brief outline of the plot and she said that Philip had laughed the whole way through. They had had supper afterwards and it had been very jolly. She looked quite pretty in a powder-blue gown and her blue velvet cloak. I longed for such a cloak, but most of all to go to the theater and laugh with Philip.

The next day we walked in the Park with Nanny Grange, who was still with us. She would probably go with Esmeralda when she married to look after her children, for Cousin Agatha felt it was good to keep nannies in the family. One could then rely on their loyalty. Besides, all the best people did it.

Now that we were older Nanny Grange always walked a few sedate paces behind us like a watchdog and if any young men came near us she would quicken her pace and be there abreast of us. It always amused me.

That day we met Philip in the Park. He fell into stride beside us. This was quite legitimate and did not need Nanny's attention. He was after all a Carrington.

Philip said accusingly to me: "Why didn't you come to the play last night?"

"Nobody asked me," I replied.

"You mean to say . . ." He stopped and looked at me. "No," he cried. "It can't be."

"But it is. Didn't you know I was the Poor Relation?"

"Oh, stop it, Ellen," wailed Esmeralda. "I can't bear you to talk like that."

"Whether you can bear it or not, my dear," I said, "it's true."

"When my parents return the visit to the theater I shall insist that you are included," Philip assured me.

"That's nice of you, Philip," I said, "but I wouldn't come where I wasn't wanted."

"Ass!" he said, and gave me a push just as he had when we were children.

I felt very pleased because at least Philip didn't see me as the Poor Relation.

There was going to be a grand dance. The folding doors of three rooms on the first floor were to be thrown open to make a fairly sizable ballroom which would be decorated with plants. It was in fact Esmeralda's coming-out ball. She was to have a very special gown in blue silk and lace. Tilly Parsons, the seamstress, thought it would take a week to make it. "All those tucks and frills, my word," she muttered.

I was to be allowed to go to the ball and for this I, too, was to have a new ball dress. I dreamed of deep blue chiffon which would heighten the color of my eyes; I saw myself floating round the ballroom and everyone calling me the belle of the ball. Esmeralda wouldn't mind that, being Esmeralda. She was very good-natured really and she had no desire for the role. She hated calling attention to herself.

Cousin Agatha sent for me. I might have known what it was about. After all, I was eighteen years old, and the threats which had haunted me