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‘Thank you, my dear, but I have some news for her—and for you, too, Hebe.’ Her eyes flew to his face, and he nodded at her quick comprehension. ‘Yes, my dear, I am ordered to England and your mama and I must make plans. Major Beresford, the mails arrived while I was at the port office. A package for you, it looks as though it has been on its travels a long time, so I thought you would like to have it at once.’ He opened the leather portfolio under his arm and extracted a stained and battered package with several seals and superscriptions on it. ‘I can hear your mama, excuse me, Hebe.’
Alex stood turning the package over in his hands. ‘Do open it,’ Hebe urged. ‘It might be news from your family.’ She felt so confident in what he had been about to say to her that a slight delay was of no concern. Happily she curled up again in the hammock and watched him slit the seals and take a letter out of the travelworn wrapper, which must have followed him around the Mediterranean for months. What was his family like? Would they welcome her into the household? Would she grow to love them? She felt sure she would, for, after all, they belonged to Alex.
Alex drew a sharp breath as he looked down at the handwriting. Hebe caught her underlip in her teeth, suddenly afraid that he had received bad news from home. Slowly he ran his thumb under the wafer and unfolded the single sheet. She saw the colour go out of his cheeks as he read, and sat up, suddenly cold inside. Abruptly he walked away from her into the tangle of shrubbery.
Hebe sat and waited. If he wanted her, he would call for her. At last he came back. The colour was in his face again, but his eyes were wide and dark. ‘Alex, what is wrong? Can I help?’ She scrambled out of the hammock and took a quick step towards him.
‘No. No, nothing is wrong, Hebe. I have just had very unexpected news.’ He stood, his lower lip caught in his teeth, then he smiled at her as if he had made up his mind about something. His eyes were fiercely blue.
‘Hebe, before I left England for this posting I proposed marriage to Lady Clarissa Duncan. I had no real expectation that she would accept me. My birth is good, but I am only a younger son in a risky profession. And Lady Clarissa is a great beauty, the t
oast of Society, and very much admired and courted. As I expected, she would not give me an answer there and then.’
He broke off, bending to pick a sprig of rosemary and twirling it in his fingers. Hebe found she was holding her breath until it hurt. Slowly she exhaled. ‘I gave up hope, of course,’ he said simply. ‘I had no real expectation she would return my love. I doubted that Clarissa even took it seriously. It is so long ago since I saw her, since I proposed. She writes to say she accepts my proposal. I had given up hope,’ he repeated incredulously.
Clarissa. The name he had breathed when he saw that red-headed woman at the party. ‘Does she have chestnut hair?’ Hebe asked, amazed, through a sea of pain, that she had any voice at all.
‘How did you know?’ He looked at her as if she truly was the witch he had jokingly called her just now.
‘A guess.’ Hebe struggled to control her voice and her face. He must not know how she felt; suddenly that was the most important thing. Thank goodness she had not spoken of her love for him. Thank goodness Sir Richard had come in when he did. It was bad enough as it was, but at least Alex did not have to extricate himself from a declaration to a girl he was proposing to on the rebound from his true love.
If he guessed how she truly felt, he would pity her. That was unbearable. ‘Congratulations, you must be very happy,’ she said warmly. ‘How anxious Lady Clarissa must be, not knowing when you would get her letter. She must have realised as soon as you left how she felt, how she valued you.’ There, it was perfect, he could never tell that inside her something was breaking, that instead of a heart there was a gaping, aching hole. ‘You will be so anxious to return to her.’
‘Hebe…I—’ Alex broke off, apparently unable to continue in the face of her smile.
‘I know what you are going to say,’ she said reassuringly. ‘We have been flirting, and you feel badly about it. But you must not, you know. I enjoyed it very much and you have made me so much more confident about myself. I was such a little mouse. Now, when I feel intimidated, I shall think, I am an enchantress, and unfriendly débutantes and haughty matrons will be as nothing to me!’
He was staring at her as if at a stranger. ‘Hebe…’
‘No, please, Major, do not be at all embarrassed about it. You forget, I see naval and army officers come and go all the time. I know how they feel, so far from home and loved ones: of course you all flirt. It was just that no one has ever flirted with me before, and that was…special.’ She had to stop talking, it was unbearable, any moment she was going to break down into tears.
Mrs Carlton appeared at the doorway. ‘Hebe, the most extraordinary news! We are to leave Malta, and in only seven days! And, Hebe, Sir Richard says I must marry him on Saturday. Oh, Hebe!’
Thanks goodness, now she could cry. Hebe ran to Sara and took her in her arms. ‘Mama, I am so happy for you, don’t worry, we will manage it all.’ The tears were coursing down both their cheeks, only Hebe knew that hers were of the bitterest unhappiness. ‘And, Mama, you are not the only one with good news. Major Beresford has heard that a proposal of marriage he made before he left England has been accepted. He can marry the lady he loves—is that not wonderful for him?’
Sara turned in her daughter’s embrace with a gasp, but Alex was already picking up his hat and gloves. ‘Mrs Carlton, my felicitations and best wishes for the happy day. If you will excuse me, I am sure you have many arrangements to make and will not wish to be encumbered with visitors.’ He bowed slightly and was gone before either of the ladies could say anything.
‘Hebe! Oh, Hebe darling—’ Sara Carlton took her stepdaughter’s hands in both hers. ‘I am so sorry! How could we have been so mistaken in Major Beresford? Oh, Sir Richard,’ she cried as he came into the courtyard, ‘Major Beresford is betrothed to a lady in England!’
‘The devil he is!’ The Commodore stopped dead in his tracks. ‘I am going directly to find him: he will soon learn he cannot play fast and loose with a young lady, especially one about to become my stepdaughter.’
‘Oh, no, please, Sir Richard, Mama, you are misjudging him, truly you are.’ Hebe clung on to his sleeve and looked at him imploringly. ‘Please do not say anything, I would be so embarrassed. You see, he proposed to Lady Clarissa, but she would not give him an answer and he had no real hope of her anyway, so he believed he was free. And her letter has been following him around for months. We were only flirting, after all. He made me no promises of any kind.’
‘What? Clarissa Duncan, that red-headed daughter of Bolton’s? I knew I had heard some rumour. Well, that at least explains it: I would have been sorry to find I had misjudged the man. Still…’ he patted Hebe’s hand affectionately ‘…it’s a bad business for you, my dear.’
‘No, indeed sir, please do not be believing I have a broken heart or will be wearing the willow for Major Beresford. And I have London to look forward to—a Season at last!’
She appeared to have succeeded in reassuring her mother. Sara Carlton peered closely at Hebe’s wide, tear-soaked eyes. ‘So you are only crying for my happiness?’
‘Yes, of course, Mama. It is so exciting!’
‘There is one other thing, Hebe,’ Sir Richard said slowly, ‘and I hope you will not be disappointed, but my orders take me to a posting on Gibraltar. Your mama will remain there with me.’
‘I am not going to London?’ Hebe could not keep the disappointment out of her voice: there were too many blows this afternoon for her to be able to cope with this, although compared with the news about Alex it was trivial.
‘Indeed you are, dearest.’ Sara took her arm. ‘Let us all go inside and I will explain. Your aunt and uncle Fulgrave will be delighted to have you: your aunt wrote to me only the other week saying that her eldest girl has become betrothed and now she is free she would like you to come and stay and be launched into Society by her. And she has all the right contacts—just think, Hebe, Almack’s, a court presentation, balls!’
‘There is sure to be a suitable couple travelling back to England who can look after you—probably there will be a choice,’ Sir Richard added. ‘With a respectable and capable maid to attend you, I am sure you will find yourself quite comfortable on the voyage back from Gibraltar.’
