 |
|
|
|
Dr. Munro was silent only a moment before he burst out with, �West�I don�t care for myself. But my Rose�nothing would happen to my Rose, would it?� �I couldn�t say. Some of them have more restraint than others. Some of them are like wild dogs in their crimes. Until we know precisely what they�re looking for, I can�t say for sure.� �Promise me, then�promise me you�ll do your best to make certain that Rose is safe�� West shifted uncomfortably. �I�m sorry, Munro, I�m not a nursemaid�� �Whatever the government pays for your work I would match it, I would double it, to be certain that my Rose was safe�� �That isn�t necessary,� West broke in, somewhat abashed. �I can�t hold her hand every minute of the day, but�of course I wouldn�t want to see anything happen.� �That�s all I ask,� said Dr. Munro, already sounding relieved. �I don�t even want her to know that you�re watching after her�she can�t know about any of it, of course. And you have your own work to do, I know�� �I�ll see what I can do,� West sighed. The guests started to arrive thick and fast; the Radcliffes and the Sheridans were duty-bound to greet them all, but Rose Hannah had no tether. The swim of friends before the official programme of dances began was one of her favorite parts of a ball, and she floated merrily through the crowd: �Mrs. Radcliffe and her friends, most of them mothers of younger guests, gathered in a clutch like proud silken hens: Mrs. Sheridan, Mrs. Radcliffe, Mrs. Morland, Mrs. Reed. (She overheard Mrs. Radcliffe telling the mothers that �you know how treacherous my nerves are�our Dr. Rose has even prescribed a little brandy for them, only now and then, you understand�� Mrs. Sheridan�s eyes twinkled at Rose Hannah over her fan. �Oh, indeed, indeed.�) �Dour Mrs. Mortmain presiding over all like a walking bombazine pall in her widow�s weeds, her shadow and son George Mortmain close behind. (She was possibly the most important matron in their set; Rose Hannah remembered how George had seemed on the verge of asking her to dance a few years back, but Mrs. Mortmain had caught his eye�and Rose Hannah�s as well�and George had abruptly excused himself. The only reason Mrs. Mortmain and her well-placed words of gossip hadn�t been less detrimental to her social reputation was because Rose Hannah didn�t care enough for her poison to have any effect.) �Newly-married Kate Buckley with her husband in tow��I can�t believe I missed you at Mrs. Reed�s! You must come by for tea on Tuesday, if I haven�t caught you by then!� �Amelia Sharpe, holding court in a corner with shy Georgiana Browne and the younger gentlemen, flashing her cat eyes all the while. Georgiana�s brother Louis appeared soon like an obedient St. Bernard bearing cups of lemonade, but then Miss Sharpe changed her mind and waved him off to fetch coffee instead. She had Charlie Reed�s younger brothers Jamie and Archie under her spell at the moment, and Rose Hannah�s ears pricked when she heard their conversation: �Have you seen the papers this evening?� Jamie and Archie replied in the negative, from what Rose Hannah could make out. �Oh, it�s simply too awful�one of Papa�s friends was attacked in his own house! By robbers! Papa says he doesn�t know what we pay the police for, if they�re going to be so ineffectual.� She must have been listening too hard, because Jamie Reed waved and called her name�against all rules of propriety, of course, in which the lady ought to acknowledge the gentleman first, but as soon as Archie joined in she knew that the boys were calling for help like drowning men. �Why, Rose-aaannah,� drawled Amelia. She was only seventeen and had just come out the summer before, but her father was richer than Croesus and she liked to remind people by being as condescending as possible. �It has been so long since you�ve been about in society.� �London society, at any rate,� said Rose Hannah, smiling tightly. �How are you, Miss Sharpe?� And with a nod to her shadow, �Miss Browne?� Georgiana nodded back. Rose Hannah had always thought it was a pity that a sweet girl like Georgiana had fallen under Amelia�s thrall. �Oh, Georgiaaana and I have been simply dying of boredom waiting for the season to start,� said Amelia, fanning herself briskly and taking a moment to make eyes at some hapless young man across the room. �It must be such a relief to be an old maid, Miss Munro, and not have any of that to worry about.� And she smirked at her own cleverness while the Reeds laughed nervously. �Oh, but I�m sure you can bear it, dear,� said Rose Hannah. �You�ll only have a year or two out and about to endure until you�re married and completely useless. Do excuse me, I simply must speak to Miss Morland.� Both the Misses Morland, Catherine and Caroline, were looking sprightly in garlands of pink and yellow roses; and there was their elder brother Ned smiling as she sailed their way. She and Ned had long been friends, and it was a credit to Ned Morland�s character that they were even better friends after she had turned his offer of marriage down. �I overheard Miss Sharpe. Point, match, and set, Miss Munro.� He held out his arm to her: �Miss Radcliffe�s put us together for the Grand March.� �Dear Pansy,� she said, smiling. �Like old times.� He had Christian-named her once, and Rose Hannah was of the opinion that if she could refuse him and they could still be friends, he could call her by her Christian name all he liked ever after, but she had asked him not to do so outside family gatherings. The Morlands and her father understood their friendship, but others would take it the wrong way, she knew. But she also liked to put on an ambiguous front; Ned was certainly useful as a shield against other young gentlemen who sought her company� such as Louis Browne, who was at that moment approaching shyly from the side: �Might I dance the first waltz with you, Miss Munro?� Rose Hannah smiled and clasped her hands earnestly. �Mr. Browne, might I ask you a great favor? As I have no escort tonight, would you dance the very first dance with me instead?" �I�I would be h-honored, Miss Munro,� stammered Louis, going all white and pink at the same time as she held out her card for him to sign. �I had no idea you were so fond of Browne,� murmured Ned as they watched Louis retreat, and then actually stumble over an ottoman in his giddiness. �I�m not at all,� she said briskly. �A quadrille is first, and I�ll have to dance it for the sake of form, but I never dance anything slower than a polka if I can help it, and certainly not with Mr. Browne�s two left feet. A quadrille is quite his speed, and I shall get it over with quickly.� �But you do dance waltzes, I know it firsthand.� And he winked at her sidelong. �Oh, I do, I do�they�re slow, yes, but you get that marvelous swirling feeling. But I have no use for redowas or quadrilles.� �You are absolutely merciless, Miss Munro. As I well know.� �As you well know,� she said, smiling, and patted his hand. She wished sometimes that she could dance all the dances with Ned, who was a very capable dancer, but that of course was hardly proper. And she did have plenty of young men to dance with�Charlie Reed and his brothers, Gus Oliver, even Kate�s husband John, who danced a fine galop�and Rose Hannah as was known for her love of dancing as she was for her aversion to settling down. Ned was admired her coming in rosy from the Scottische on Leland Pearce�s arm: �Might I sign your card for the Berlin, Miss Munro?� �I�ll dance the Berlin with no one but Charlie Reed,� Rose Hannah declared, laughing, �as he�s the only one who can do it properly.� Ned chuckled. �You talk like a true sportswoman.� �Well, she dances like one, too,� Leland teased, handing Rose Hannah off to Ned and making his parting bow. �Was that a compliment or an insult?� she asked cheerfully, pulling out her fan to cool off. �As far as I�m concerned, a compliment,� said Ned. �As your de facto escort for the evening, you must at least let me have the last dance. Promise.� �I think I can promise you that,� she said, the painted figures on the fan blurring with the briskness of movement. She didn�t even see Pansy again until supper, and Rose Hannah suggested that they carry their plates into the conservatory, so that Pansy could have a bit of a rest from the relentless congratulatory mingling of the evening. �They,� of course, meant their entire circle of friends, so it was more like a small party than a quiet escape, but it seemed to please Pansy, who sat glowing, hand in hand with Randolph, for much of the meal. After a general toast to the happy couple, the group fragmented into small conversations, and Rose Hannah took advantage of the general buzz to turn to Charlie Reed and ask, �I heard something strange about the evening papers�something about a burglary of some sort?� �I haven�t heard,� said Charlie, looking puzzled. �I saw the paper on the way out,� offered Gus Oliver. �Something awful over at the Bonnevilles� house was all I made of it.� Gus�s sister Eveline added, with some hesitation, �What I heard was that it has some relation to some dreadful goings on in East End.� �You don�t think it�s that Whitechapel Ripper again, that chap they never caught,� said Charlie, but Rose Hannah couldn�t tell if he was scoffing or honestly concerned. �Oh, don�t let�s talk about rippers, dreadful things like that,� cried Pansy. �Bonneville is getting into politics, I hear,� said Randolph, patting her hand. �I�d chalk it up to an attempt to frighten him out of the idea by some rival or other, made to look like something worse. You simply don�t have that Whitechapel criminal element in West End. It might turn out to be an interesting case, but nothing too fearsome, I would say,� and Rose Hannah had to admit that that was the soundest explanation she had heard so far. It came time to sit out the redowa, and by that time she wanted nothing more than a quiet turn in the conservatory. Of course it was the refuge of a young couple here and there, but much quieter than it had been at supper. She was just looking at Pansy�s goldfinches in their cage when she saw Louis Browne heading towards her. �Miss Munro? Miss Munro�might I�speak to you a moment?� �Certainly,� she said, trying to calculate the quickest path back to the main hall. �If I might say�that is�� She looked more closely at him; he was very flushed and was, in fact, sweating rather profusely. �What is it, Mr. Browne?� �It�s simply that�I love you, Miss Munro�Miss Rose�very sincerely, and if you can return my affection and become my wife, I shall consider myself the most fortunate of men. The income which I can place at your disposal is not large, but in my family you will find the most tender and affectionate connexions,� he said, and she realized with a sinking hilarity |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |