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To her surprise, he said, “I met her at Lady Pinner’s ball, but I have no idea who she is.”
She had no idea what to make of that.
Calmly, she made some comment on the music, and he responded readily to the opening, and within a few minutes they were back on an even keel again. But she had glimpsed the unsavoury side of his life, and it had confirmed all her initial suspicions of him. However much he might appear to be a gentleman, however easy his company and open his manner, he was still a man of frivolous nature and licentious behaviour, and not to be trusted.
The word went out that the spectacle of the cascade was soon to begin.
“Should you like to see it?” Mr Fletcher said to Eloise, as everyone in the Fletchers’ boxes rose to make their way there.
“Would you think me very odd if I do not?” she said. “The music is so delightful to my ear, and I should like to enjoy it without so much chatter on all sides.”
“Then we shall stay here,” he said, with his ready smile.
“You need not stay with me,” she said. “Someone should watch over your sisters — Rosie in particular.”
Of course,” he said equably. “But it need not be me. Tibbs, Hatts, will you keep an eye on my sisters?”
The two young men agreed to it, and Eloise sat on with Mr Fletcher as all the boxes around them emptied and the walkways became thin of traffic. For a while, the orchestra played on, but then the music stopped and all was quiet.
“Shall we follow the others now?” he said gently. “But if you are content to stay here, I must confess it is pleasant to have some peace for a spell.”
“It is,” she said. “I spend my days, and most of my nights too, in the bedlam that is Lady Carrbridge’s life. She enjoys having a great crowd of people around her, but for me it is not always pleasant. I cannot marshal the thoughts in my own head when there are so many voices around.”
“Are you a deep thinker, Miss Whittleton?” he said. “Are your thoughts so profound that they need solitude?” His words were so gently spoken that she could only take them as genuine.
“Not profound, no. It is music that fills my head when I am alone,” she said. “It runs constantly in my mind, but when there are other people about, and noise and bustle, then I cannot hear it, and that distresses me.”
“Then let us be silent,” he said quietly, “so that you may hear the music in your head.”
It was such a kindly thought that it brought tears to her eyes. She had never hidden her music, but no one before had ever offered to be quiet so she could hear it. She closed her eyes and listened, but tonight there was nothing of interest, only snatches of the tunes she had heard the musicians play and little threads that led nowhere. Besides, she had no paper on which to record her composings, and she could not hold them in her head until she returned home. Even so, it was pleasant to be still and quiet and not be put to the effort of making conversation.
They had sat thus in silence for some considerable time, and the crowds were drifting back from the performance of the cascade, when running footsteps terminated in the cry of, “Fletch!Fletch!He’s taken her onto a side path.Rosie.She’s gone!”
Eloise opened her eyes abruptly. It was Mr Tibbitt shouting, gesticulating wildly. Mr Fletcher jumped up and vaulted straight over the low edging around the box, and set off at a run, before stopping, and turning, uncertain.
“We cannot leave Miss Whittleton unattended. Tibbs, you stay here and—”
“He has to show you the way,” Eloise said at once. “I shall come too.”
His face cleared. She made her way more decorously through the door of the box and he held out his hand. “Can you run? Or at least walk briskly?”
She nodded, took his hand and they set off at a fast walk. There was something so intimate about holding hands in that way. They were both ungloved, since they had been eating supper, and she was sure that her hand burned in his. And yet it was not romantic in the slightest. He was desperate to find his sister and she was desperate to keep up with his long legs, and not hinder him. She was soon out of breath, but it was not a time to complain, and so they ploughed on.
Tibbs led them to the entrance to a side path, and at first glance it was not so different from the main walkway, with lanterns at intervals and other visitors walking about. But soon they had left the populated parts behind and the path was deserted.
They came to a fork in the path. “You go that way, we will go this,” Mr Fletcher said tersely to Mr Tibbitt, pushing forward without stopping.
Another corner and there they were, Rosie and Mr Somerwell, she pressed up against a tree, leaning away from him, her face averted, he looming over her, one hand trying to twist her face up to meet his.
Mr Fletcher released Eloise’s hand, pulled Somerwell away by one shoulder so that he spun round, and then punched him so hard that he toppled over backwards and lay still.
~~~~~
Will was astonished by how much his hand hurt. Somerwell’s jaw had felt as if it were made of solid marble, and although he was now sprawled out on the ground, Will felt as if he had broken every bone in his hand. But there was no time to consider himself.
“Rosie, love, are you all right?” he cried, scooping her into his arms.
She burst into noisy sobs and buried her face in his cravat.
