Long Acre Page 10

  And they went upstairs leaving Tansett dealing with the Henriques, and also Oliver Lackland, who arrived hard on their heels. The New Year’s evening party at the Caspars’ had begun.

  ‘Thank you,’ Amy said a little tremulously, ‘but you know, I have already had one cupful, and if I have any more, I am very afraid that I shall not behave as properly as I should.’

  ‘Oh, it is innocuous enough,’ Felix said, and put the glass firmly into her hand. ‘A great deal of fruit and cinnamon and mace, and only a modicum of brandy, I do promise you. Freddy sets great store by the wines he gives with his dinners, and would not spoil his guests’ palates with excessive drinking of such stuff as this, not for anything. It is only because it is New Year’s evening that he offers punch at all! But Phoebe insisted. Now, I am determined. You shall tell me all about yourself. On these occasions it is rare indeed to see any here but members of the family, and I had no notion we were to be so fortunate as to enjoy the company of strangers tonight! And I am determined you will not be a stranger for very much longer. So, tell me all about yourself. Who are you? And how come you to be here?’

  She peeped up at him over the rim of her glass, and took her time sipping at it. It really was quite extraordinary how she felt. She, who was well used to having a devastating effect on young men, and having them make a beeline for her and talk to her and try to flirt a little, even on a first acquaintance, was quite thrown out of gear by this young man’s reaction to her. He was naturally friendly and kind, she knew, for she had stood to one side as the new arrivals came surging into the big drawing-room in what seemed to her to be a great flurry of sound, and their hostess greeted them with cries of delight and much kissing and exclaiming from them all at once. And this young man had come over to her and murmured some pleasantry about the weather — which subject was now totally absorbing the chattering group about Mrs Caspar — and insisted on bringing her another glass of punch.

  She had watched him as he had walked away and been quite startled at the effect his appearance had on her. She was used to good looks; she who had been Fenton’s sister all her life could hardly be otherwise. But this young man was not goodlooking at all; or not in that sense. He was square and stocky, not a great deal taller than she was, being perhaps some five feet and eight inches, with a wide almost ugly face set in lines that showed his broad mobile mouth was very used to smiling. He had dark hair cut very short and not particularly glossy in appearance, grey eyes which were pleasant but nondescript, and a heavy chin. Nothing to make Amy look twice at any man, in all truth, and yet, the combination of his features, and the air of good humour and kindness about him made her feel positively glowing towards him. It was very odd.

  And as he had turned from the table to come back to her, holding the punch glass carefully in front of him, he had looked up and caught her eye and smiled at her with such a cheerful glint and warmth that she felt her face redden, and had to drop her gaze. It was truly very odd.

  Now, looking up at him above the rim of her glass she found herself wondering, as she always did in such circumstances, how to behave. And once again caught his eye and felt the little tide of redness in her cheeks and said hurriedly, and without any artifice at all, ‘Well, as to me — there is not much to tell. I would much prefer, if you would, if you could tell me who everyone here might be. I know only Mr Caspar, you see. I have discovered who his wife is, of course — but I know no one else. Will you tell me?’

  ‘Well, of course!’ he said heartily. ‘With whom shall I start?’

  ‘You,’ she said, baldly, and again reddened and bent to sip more of the hot punch to cover her confusion.

  ‘Oh, I am not very interesting, but I shall, of course, obey you! I am Felix Laurence, ma’am, at your service. A physician of the Middlesex Hospital, and still learning my craft, though long since completing my studies, and taking a special interest in disorders of the heart.’

  ‘And all these are your family, then?’

  ‘My adopted family,’ he said calmly and drank some of his own punch.

  ‘Adopted? That sounds very romantic.’

  ‘Oh, not particularly,’ he said, in a very matter-of-fact voice. ‘It was more a matter of convenience.’

  ‘Will you tell me of it?’ She was genuinely concerned, truly wanting to know, and stared up at him, her eyes fixed on his face, although usually when she was amid strangers she allowed her gaze to dart from one to another, assessing, observing and seeking for evidence of the effect she herself was having on others. Altogether she was behaving very strangely tonight, she thought briefly, and wondered if it were, after all, the punch. But still stared up at Felix Laurence’s face with her lips parted.

  ‘If you wish,’ he said. ‘My father died in the Crimean War, when I was but a boy. Some eleven years ago now. I was sixteen, and could have fended for myself well enough, I daresay. But — well, Aunt Martha — as I learned to call her — was working with my father in the hospital at Scutari, and was — they became attached, you know. But he died before they could be wed, and when she returned to England she proposed to take care of me for his sake. An arrangement which I found very agreeable, for she is the kindest and most sensible of ladies.’

  ‘Is she here? Which is she?’

  He nodded his head slightly in the direction of the fireplace where a rather plain-faced but friendly looking lady wearing a dark brown gown was sitting talking animatedly to another who was plump, indeed almost stout, and very elegant in green.

  ‘The one with grey hair? She seems very pleasant,’ Amy said, studying the woman in brown, who looked to her to be a little older than her mother had been when she had died, being perhaps about fifty.

  ‘Oh, she is, she is. A very delightful and trustworthy lady. I bear a great affection for her.’

  ‘You live in her house?’

  ‘Indeed. Well, not precisely her house, though she holds it in trust. She is a lady much given to charitable works, and is greatly interested in the affairs of a refuge for poor women and their children which is situated in Bedford Row. There are many of these women living there as well, but we enjoy the comfort of the top part of the house, where we have our own apartments.’

  She looked up at him again and opened her mouth to ask him more about himself, but then without quite knowing why, changed her mind and said instead, ‘And to whom is she talking?’

  ‘Ah, that is Aunt Abby! A most remarkable lady. She is a woman of business, is Aunt Abby! She was a widow, with one son — Freddy. Your host, you know! She had her own apothecary business, inherited from her first husband. And then she married Gideon — over there, you see? The tall thin man, with his hair almost white? He is no older than Aunt Martha but contrives to look very much older and wiser than anyone I know! He is very rich, being a business man himself and involved with banking and the like. What with that and the apothecary affairs, which grow apace, they are very well bestowed! The family is most proud of them, I do assure you!’

  ‘And the exceedingly handsome girl there — talking to my brother Fenton? I collect she is a daughter of theirs? She looks very like Mr Henriques, except she is so dark —’

  ‘Indeed, the lovely Isabel is the oldest of the Henriques three. There is also Sarah, over there, you see? Just out of the schoolroom, she is. And they have a son, Daniel, who is too young, I think to be brought to such a late-night party —’

  ‘And the man talking to Mrs Caspar? The one with — wearing spectacles —’

  He laughed at that, his wide mouth curling agreeably. ‘You are polite, indeed you are! Not to mention that his pate is as bald as any billiard ball! That is Mrs Caspar’s brother Oliver — he owns —’

  ‘Oh!’ She looked again at the round man with the shining head fringed with a little sandy hair with a new interest. ‘He is the one who is to give us some work, then, at his Supper Rooms. It is because of him that we are here! Are you sure he is Mr Lackland? He seems to look quite unlike his sister.’

  ‘Oh,
I am sure! He looks like none of the family — yet he is related to all of them, more than I am! Freddy and Phoebe are first cousins, you see, as well as man and wife.’

  ‘Oh! Then the unpleasant old man at the hospital — I beg your pardon — I mean —’

  He laughed again. ‘You mean the unpleasant old man at the hospital! I know quite well how terrifying he can be. So, you have met him, have you? Yes, he is grandfather to Freddy — Mr Caspar, and to his wife, and to Oliver as well, and to all of Abby’s children — and though the matter is never discussed, he stands so to me, I suppose, as well, for Martha is his daughter too, of course!’

  ‘But he is not here?’

  ‘No, not he! He remains always in his own house at Gower Street with Maria. She is not related to us, you will be glad to hear, being a second wife. In fact, I wish she were closer. She is very pleasant, but he is not at all given to putting himself out. The family visit him from time to time but never all together. He cannot abide it! And now, you must tell me about you! I have poured at your feet all this information, and still do not even know your name!’

  ‘Miss Lucas!’

  Amy turned and found Phoebe Caspar standing behind her. ‘My dear Miss Lucas, it is high time we stopped gossiping as we have all evening, and brought you to meet my brother. And then, when we have dined, you shall talk to him of what it is you wish to do and he shall see whether it will be possible for him to help you! Come along, my dear — and Felix, when dinner is announced, be so good as to take in Isabel, will you? I have placed her next to you —’

  And Phoebe bore Amy away, who, interested as she was to meet Mr Lackland, could not forbear to look back over her shoulder at Felix Laurence. To find to her chagrin that far from standing there smiling back at her, he had already turned away and was talking to the tall and very beautiful Miss Isabel Henriques, and Fenton. And was most startled at the surge of feeling that this circumstance aroused in her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dinner was exceedingly good, and she ate heartily, greatly enjoying the splendour of it all, for there were a great many servants, and a great many beautifully presented dishes. It was all very unlike the way they took their meals at Mrs Miller’s; there the food was plentiful and flavoury, being made up largely of stews and hot meat pies and vegetable broths, but undoubtedly humdrum. No roast baby quail or exotic eastern olives were proffered in Long Acre, that was certain.

  She felt a moment of compunction when the table conversation came back yet again to the remarkable weather, remembering poor Mr Foster, but then caught Fenton’s eye across the table and was a little worried. He looked quite splendid tonight; his eyes were glittering magnificently, his hair was curling even more wildly and romantically than usual and his colour was high. From the laughter each of his sallies brought from his two table companions — the Misses Henriques — it was also clear that he was being at his most witty and urbane, and with sisterly practicality she wondered for a moment if he were a trifle overfilled with Freddy’s excellent champagne.

  And then was annoyed with herself, for whatever Fenton’s character faults might be, drinking heavily was not one of them. Their father had done that often enough in young Fenton’s sight to give him a horror of the way men who were drunk could look, all loose-lipped and blotchy and very far from beautiful. No, Fenton was elevated tonight by the splendour of the house, the elegance of the company and most particularly by the admiration that was clearly being paid to him by Miss Isabel Henriques.

  She leaned forwards slightly to see if she could see her more clearly and Felix, sitting on Isabel’s other side, caught her eye and smiled at her in his friendly way, and at once she leaned back, a little confused, and turned her attention to her neighbour, Mr Oliver Lackland, who had been prosing away happily to Martha on his other side.

  Politely he turned to her now and began to talk of her past theatrical experience, making it quite clear that he was well aware of why she had been bidden to this family party, and making no effort to engage her in any general conversation

  She did not mind this in the least; indeed, it quite comforted her, helping her to feel that she was being of some real service to Fenton, for whatever pleasure he might find here tonight, the harsh fact was that they were present but on sufferance. Tomorrow would start a new year, and with it a renewal of the urgent need to earn their livings. So she told Mr Lackland all she could about their theatrical past, while uneasily watching Fenton turning from one pretty neighbour to another and generally drawing attention to himself, and wishing that he would not enjoy himself quite so much. He would find the return to Long Acre much more painful if he went on as he was.

  Because of her abstraction she made less effort than she might have done to impress Mr Lackland, and told him no more than the bare facts of their previous acting experience, failing to garnish it with any of the detail she would normally use to make a good impression. So that by the time dinner was over, and Phoebe collected the ladies together to leave the men with the port decanter a little longer, he had a very clear and accurate idea of what the Lucases had done in the past and what they might be able to offer him.

  It was close on ten o’clock before the men rejoined the company in the drawing-room, by which time Amy felt quite exhausted, and was longing for some male company. Especially easy male company, like that of Mr Laurence. The Misses Henriques both quizzed her busily about her brother and his activities — about which she boasted shamelessly — while the older ladies sat and talked comfortably about children and people and places that meant nothing to her but clearly fascinated them. She was grateful to Miss Martha Lackland, however, who, recognizing her boredom with the two sisters — for beautiful though they were, neither seemed particularly interesting — drew her into conversation, asking her about her plans for the future.

  She sat beside her on a low hassock with her gown spread wide about her, explaining about how important it was for them both to start earning for themselves, and was also about to explain to her the plan she had made to seek for her dead father’s relations, when the door opened and the men returned, and she looked up.

  Freddy returned first, as host, with Oliver beside him, and as they came through the drawing-room door, the first person Oliver saw was his young dinner companion. She was looking up, her lips a little parted and her eyes sparkling with reflected firelight, and her hair was curling rather more profusely on her brow than it had done before. He blinked and looked again, and was almost surprised that he had not noticed before how agreeable a young woman she was. At dinner he had been much occupied in talking to Martha of her charity’s financial affairs, for he was her adviser on many fiscal problems, and had also been much occupied with his food, for he was a moderately greedy man who enjoyed exercising his appetite. So, he had hardly been aware of anyone else, except in the most cursory way. Even when he had talked to his neighbour he had been more concerned to hear of her experience than to look at her, so that he could decide whether he could find work for her.

  He had in fact been very doubtful on that score and had said as much very quietly to his brother-in-law, who had looked somewhat put out at his words.

  ‘How can you say?’ he had said sharply. ‘When you have neither seen nor heard them perform? Come, Oliver, it is rare indeed I seek such help from you — and this patient is of great interest to me. I would be very loth to lose him, as I must if he does not obtain work, for surely he will return to his home!’

  ‘Well, I will listen to them sing, perhaps. She said nothing of singing, only of her acting ability, for which, as you know, I have but small use! However, we shall see —’

  And now, back in the drawing-room, he did indeed see. He saw her in a very new way, and was startled at the emotion his vision created in him. He spent much of his working life looking at hand-some women and pretty girls; they were in a sense his stock in trade, and always he had been most matter-of-fact about those feminine charms that were displayed for his approval. So matter-of-fact, indee
d, that his affectionate sister and female cousins had long since given up hope of finding him a suitable wife.

  But now he stood and looked at a girl sitting on a hassock staring up at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, and felt emotions which were very strange to him. So strange that he did not recognize the stirrings for what they were; but he did know that it was imperative he find some way in which this child could work in his Supper Rooms.

  What he did not know was that immediately behind him in the procession of men returning from the dining-room was Felix Laurence, accompanied by Fenton Lucas, and it was at Felix that Miss Lucas was looking with such wide-eyed eagerness on her speaking countenance.

  Phoebe surged to her feet. ‘Thank you, Freddy, for not staying in the dining-room any longer! It would be a pity to miss the excellent entertainment I am sure we are about to enjoy! I thought, my dears —’ she turned to her cousins, still sitting side by side on a sofa and looking very delightful ‘— that you young ones would entertain us all! Your duet would be charming, and I daresay we can prevail upon Felix to let us hear again that very amusing comic song to which he treated us at Christmas. And then perhaps, Miss Lucas —’

  Amy stood up, opening her mouth to say at once that she would prefer not to, since she lacked any pianoforte or singing ability at all, but she could not say a word, for Isabel and Sarah were both speaking at once. It was Isabel who won the day.

  ‘We shall sing, dear Cousin Phoebe, only if you will! You know that you are better than any of us, and it would be cruel indeed to deprive us! Come along, do! You first and then we shall see about the rest of us!’

  Demurring prettily, Phoebe allowed herself to be led to the large and very handsome grand pianoforte in the corner and sat down as the company settled itself about the room, putting on a suitable listening face. Amy, feeling a very real anxiety, tried to catch Fenton’s eye; this wretched woman, she wanted to warn him, this wretched Mrs Caspar has devised this just so that we can be auditioned for her brother, in front of all of them! We cannot do it, we cannot — and anyway I can’t sing —