Eloisa's Adventure Page 2

  She threw him an apologetic smile and jerked her head in a rough parody of a nod.

  “You are not with me this afternoon, my dear,” he mused. “Are nerves settling in?”

  Eloise looked at him with a frown. A wave of alarm swept through her. He was looking at her as though he was seeing straight into her soul and noting things she would rather keep hidden. Unless she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did, he was up to something.

  “I am just a little nervous, that’s all,” she replied vaguely. “Are you sure that Lord Aldwich doesn’t mind?”

  Mr de Lisle immediately looked cautious. She got the distinct impression that he wanted to tell her something, but was struggling to find a way to phrase it. Whatever it was, at the last minute, he appeared to change his mind because, after staring out of the window thoughtfully for a minute he gave her a half-hearted smile. Rather than answer her, he turned away and motioned for Mrs Jackman to play.

  The old lady smiled and nodded before she plodded away on the keys.

  “Mr de Lisle? Everything is still alright for me to attend the ball, isn’t it?” she asked. Her stomach knotted. She braced herself for the inevitable disappointment she would feel if he broke bad news. When he turned toward her, he offered her a wide smile that was as worrying as it was insincere.

  “Of course it is, dear,” he murmured as he walked toward her with his hands out.

  Eloisa frowned at him. Had he muttered something about someone turning up? Maybe she had misheard him. After all, why would anyone else need to turn up? She could have sworn that was what he had said. Before she could ask him anything the waltz began, and she was forced to turn her attention to where she should put her feet.

  At the end of the session, she stood beside the door and watched Mrs Jackman gather her music papers and take her leave. Once she had seen the woman out, she turned her attention to her dance tutor.

  “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr de Lisle? You seem a little worried about something,” Eloisa asked him.

  “Mm? What dear?” Mr de Lisle stared absently at her for a moment before he gave himself a physical jerk. “Oh, no, I am fine. Thank you, but no.”

  “Is it still alright to go to the ball? I won’t mind if circumstances have changed, and you -”

  “No!” Mr de Lisle shouted. He turned to face her with such horror in his eyes that her alarm grew and she took several steps backward.

  “I am sorry, my dear. I am a little out of sorts today that’s all.” He picked up his cloak and swept out of the room leaving Eloisa to follow in his wake.

  At the door, he paused with one hand on the latch and turned toward her. “The carriage will collect you at eight o’clock prompt. The ball will already have started by the time you arrive. Meet me on the terrace as soon as you get there,” he ordered.

  She jumped back in alarm when one long bony finger appeared just inches from her nose.

  “I may fetch us some drinks while I am waiting for you. So, if I am not there when you arrive, wait for me. Don’t wander around the gardens alone and don’t speak to anyone. You must, and I repeat, must, wait for me. I hope that the ballroom won’t be as crowded as last time because I should like you to move amongst the other guests for a while. You will draw some curiosity but, as long as you are with me, you should not endure too much in the way of an interrogation. Just mind your manners and remain graceful and elegant at all times.”

  “I am not supposed to be there, remember?” Eloisa reminded him quietly, horrified at the thought of having to talk to anybody there.

  “Don’t worry about that. Just leave it to me,” he declared with a dismissive sniff.

  Eloisa tried to nod, but Mr de Lisle’s finger touched her chin. He tipped her head into a haughty angle that prevented her from speaking. After several uncomfortable moments of careful scrutiny, he gave her a satisfied nod.

  “You must be elegant and refined, my dear. Elegant and refined,” he declared before he let himself out.

  Eloisa stared at the empty doorway in shock, more convinced than ever that he was up to something.

  “Has Mr de Lisle just left?” Cissy asked as she made her way into the parlour to peer out of the window. “Oh dear, I have just made some tea as well.”

  Eloisa opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again with a snap. She got the strangest feeling that she was missing something.

  “Are you alright, dear?” Cissy asked with a frown. “You have not heard a word I have said, have you?”

  “I must be elegant and refined,” Eloisa mused, and tipped her chin up to demonstrate. “Mr de Lisle said so.”

  “Right now, you look like a goose staring down your nose at the door like that,” Cissy chided as she carried the tea tray back into the sitting room. “Tea?”

  “Yes, please, and some brandy.”

  “Eloisa,” Cissy chided, but then grinned at her over her shoulder. “I’ll pour the tea. You fetch the brandy.”

  Eloisa laughed and hurried off in search of some sustenance. After the strange and rather unsettling events of the afternoon, she needed it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Oh, Eloisa, you are beautiful,” Cissy whispered as Eloisa glided down the stairs. “You look just like a princess.”

  Eloisa smiled at her and tried to find the right angle to tip her chin up like Mr de Lisle had shown her. Unfortunately, she was unable to see her feet then and stumbled down the remaining steps. She grabbed the bannister to stop her fall and threw her sister a grateful look when Cissy lurched forward to help her. Once she regained her balance, she tugged her skirts back down and resumed her elegant glide. If it wasn’t for the fierce blush that made her cheeks ruddy, nobody would have been any the wiser of the slight mishap.

  “This being a lady is hard work,” she declared when she reached the hallway.

  Cissy smothered her smile – just. “Quite.”

  “Thank you,” Eloisa murmured as she accepted a pair of long white evening gloves off her sister.

  “They used to be mother’s gloves. They are clean and perfect for such an occasion as this,” Cissy said.

  “I love them,” she whispered as she studied the delicate embroidery Cissy had sewn around the cuffs. “They are beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful,” Cissy corrected her. To prove her point, she tugged Eloisa around to stand in front of the hallway mirror.

  Eloisa accepted the silk shawl Cissy draped over her shoulders with a smile of thanks and studied her reflection. If she was honest, she was a little stunned at the new her. At some point over the last four hours, her transformation had turned her from an ordinary country-mouse, into someone even she didn’t recognise.

  She had been bathed, primped, pinned, coiffed, powdered, and dressed with such careful precision that she daren’t breathe in case it all turned out to be a dream. Her perfect hair had taken Cissy several hours to pin up and had cost them both at least three burnt fingers. The resultant cascade of coiled curls that was gathered at the back of Eloisa’s head was the height of fashion. Not only that, but her hair had been pinned with tiny pale pink and white roses from out of the garden. Each time she moved, the delicate scent of roses teased her nostrils and reminded her of home. It went some way toward calming the tight coil of nerves that had started to form deep in the pit of her stomach.

  “It sounds like your carriage is here,” Cissy whispered when the metal jangle of a horse’s harness clanked outside. “Your carriage awaits, my dear,” she declared as she pulled the front door open.

  “Oh, heavens above,” Eloisa gasped as she stared in shock at the resplendent carriage and four horses that awaited her.

  “That’s your transportation?” Cissy stared in awe at the golden coat of arms on the highly polished door of the luxurious, and very expensive, travelling coach.

  Eloisa swallowed and watched a liveried footman jump down from the back of the carriage. He didn’t even look at her as he dropped the padded step and opened the doo
r. She watched him stand to attention beside the door. Fear warred with disbelief as she walked down the small path to the street. Once there and stared into the plush interior of the carriage.

  “Is it for me?” She whispered to Cissy. She almost wished that a second, rather less audacious carriage would rumble along at any moment, because this couldn’t possibly be meant for her – could it?

  “I am not aware of anyone else who is going to a ball around here,” Cissy retorted.

  “Mr de Lisle said that he would arrange the transportation, but I didn’t expect anything like this,” Eloisa exclaimed.

  “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, my dear. This is a golden opportunity to see how the other half live. Enjoy yourself,” Cissy replied. When Eloisa made no attempt to venture near the huge conveyance, she placed one hand in the middle of her back and pushed her toward the open door.

  “I can’t,” Eloisa protested.

  “It’s time to go.” Cissy grunted with the effort it took to get Eloisa to move. “Mr de Lisle is waiting for you, don’t forget.”

  The mention of her dance tutor’s name snapped Eloisa out of her daze. She turned to her sister but what she was about to say remained unspoken because of the arrival of Mrs Jackman, who had come out to wave her off. She dabbed her tears away with a handkerchief and blew her nose – loudly. The noise startled one of the horses, which side-stepped nervously. Although the driver murmured gently to them, the glare he gave Mrs Jackman for upsetting one of his precious charges was less than kind. The incident only fuelled Eloisa’s sense of disquiet, and she turned toward Cissy somewhat panic stricken as the realisation of what she was about to do hit home.

  “I am not an invited guest. Why has he sent this?” She gasped, suddenly wary about the entire evening.

  “Who knows,” Cissy shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  Eloisa opened her mouth to answer but Mrs Jackman appeared at her elbow. Oblivious to the coachman’s disgust, the old woman nodded toward the carriage.

  “Go on, go on,” Mrs Jackman urged. “Mr de Lisle said it would be alright. You have worked hard for this. Have the time of your life.”

  “Go on,” Cissy urged as she looked warily up at the sky. “I have spent hours curling that hair of yours, and will be cross with you if you get it wet before you get there. From the look of that sky, we are going to have some rain. You will have to dance in the ballroom with everyone else after all.”

  Satisfaction rang in Cissy’s voice but Eloisa paid no attention to it. She nodded absently, and continued to study the interior of the carriage without making any attempt to climb aboard. Rain would indeed make it impossible to remain outside while the music played through the open doors. The thought of moving amongst the other guests and having to dance in the ballroom alongside them made her even more nervous than she already was. Could she go through with it after all?

  “Eloisa, hurry up,” Cissy whispered, and pushed her sister toward the carriage a bit more.

  “I can’t do this,” Eloisa replied.

  “Yes, you can,” Cissy grunted. “In you go.”

  Propelled by Cissy, Eloisa lifted her skirts and stepped into the carriage. She had barely taken a seat before the footman had the door closed. She slid the window down and looked at her sister. Cissy appeared to be crying and smiling at the same time. The sight of the tears on her sister’s cheeks made her own eyes sting a little, but she refused to indulge herself and risk water stains marking her dress.

  “Oh no,” she whispered when a streak of lightning suddenly lit the sky.

  “What is it dear?” Cissy asked with a frown. She took a step back and looked at the carriage but there didn’t appear to be anything amiss. “What’s wrong?”

  Eloisa opened her mouth to speak but didn’t get the chance to say anything before the carriage lurched violently into motion. She gasped in alarm when she was slammed forcefully back into her seat. By the time she righted herself, her house had been left far behind. She looked outside in time to see several familiar faces of her neighbours waving at her as she passed, but barely got the chance to wave back at them. The coach sped through the village until, within minutes, the last of the houses on the outskirts of the village disappeared from sight.

  She sat back against the thickly padded cushions with a sigh and studied her plush surroundings. It felt like she was in a dream just being able to sit in such a carriage. From the leather straps on either side of the seats, to the royal blue material that was lavishly embellished with a gold coats of arms identical to that on the door; everything was a world away from what she was used to. She began to wonder whether this was all a dream, or a case of mistaken identity or something.

  Surely Lord Aldwich wouldn’t have sent a carriage like this for her, would he? She had no idea, but it was taking her to her first ever ball anyway. It was too late to go back now.

  With nothing else to do, she sat back and studied the landscape that rushed past the window. It felt somewhat decadent to sit in luxury and watch the rain creep steadily closer. From the darkness of the sky, the encroaching storm would be a bad one as well.

  When the rain increased and left droplets of her water on her arm she reluctantly slid the panel up. The gloved hand she lifted to tug it back up gave her a moment’s pause, mainly because it didn’t seem like her hand. It was then that she remembered Cissy’s comment that these had been her mother’s gloves. When had their mother ever attended a ball? Why would their mother have such expensive gloves? She was certain she would have remembered her parents going to a ball while she had lived in the rectory as a child.

  A frown settled over her perfect brow as she looked the fine material of the gloves. Now that she came to study them, they appeared to be silk. The material was certainly finer than anything one could buy from a local shop, or the market around Hollywell. These appeared to have been made to order by a modiste, or an equally experienced seamstress.

  A sudden slash of lightening lit up the sky and snapped her out of her musings. She glanced up and lifted her brows at the ferocity of the wind that followed the loud rumble of thunder. Suddenly the carriage increased in speed but then slowed back down again. The memory of the rather skittish horse that had objected to Mrs Jackman’s sneeze came flooding back. She had to wonder if it didn’t like thunder and lightning either.

  When nothing untoward happened, she turned her attention back to the landscape. With nothing to do and nobody to talk to she grew bored. A wiser person would have asked how long the journey was going to take. She simply had no idea, and it was too late to ask now.

  “I wish you were here, Cissy,” Eloisa murmured for want of anything else to say, or do. “Being an elegant lady of refinement is nothing short of lonely.”

  She jumped in alarm when another loud rumble of thunder sounded overhead and, once again, the carriage increased its pace then slowed back down.

  When another jagged streak of lightning broke the darkness, a gasp of dismay escaped her. A strong gust of wind made the carriage sway so violently that she clutched the edge of the seat and waited for the inevitable speeding up of the horses. This time, however, the coachman didn’t slow them down. The carriage continued to bounce down the lane until the hedgerow on either side of them became nothing more than a green blur. She wondered how much longer this journey was going to take. She leaned forward to see if she could identify anything outside that was familiar, but it was too dark.

  “Oh no,” she whispered, when the door she beside her rattled. She frowned at it and willed herself to remain calm as she carefully moved away. “It’s nothing; just the wind. This conveyance is new, Eloisa, and is made from the finest materials. Nothing could be wrong with it. The footman just didn’t secure it properly.”

  Unfortunately, even the sound of her own voice didn’t quell her growing concern. She stared out at the darkness and didn’t have to wait long for the next rumble of thunder. The volume of it erased the noise of the carriage wheels for a moment. A shiver sw
ept over her. She drew her shawl higher over her bare shoulders, but it was too thin to ward off the chill that brought goose bumps to her flesh. Somehow, the wind was managing to find its way into the carriage and the temperature within had dropped by several degrees. Chilled, and beginning to become fearful that she would manage to get to the ball in one piece, Eloisa rubbed her arms and frowned at the door. Another gust of wind made it rattle even louder and, sure enough, her skin was teased by a gentle breeze.

  “Oh, mercy me,” she muttered when her attention was captured by a shocking sight that lay in the valley several yards away. “What an unfortunate looking place.”

  The dark shadow of a huge castle stood out in silent menace against the backdrop of jagged lightning streaks that flashed across the sky. It lit up the dark stone turrets and gothic roof with such haunting clarity that Eloisa willed the carriage to go quicker so they could get away from it.

  “It’s haunted, I don’t doubt,” she whispered, and turned her gaze away from the uncomfortable sight. Although she couldn’t bring herself to face it again, she knew it still lay within her line of sight; like a silent beast waiting to stalk its prey. She stared down at her gloves and willed herself not to look at it again.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Eloisa,” she said, grateful that nobody could hear her.

  She flinched when another loud rumble of thunder rattled overhead. It was accompanied by a loud crack of lightning that reverberated around the carriage. To her horror, the loud squeal of a horse sounded somewhere off in the distance. Before Eloisa could decide whether it might be one of the animals pulling the carriage, she was thrown forward in her seat. The conveyance then began to jolt violently from side to side. She struggled to hold on to the edge of the seat while the carriage dipped and swayed through the storm, and began to pray that she would be alive by the time she got to the ball.

  “Slow down, or we are going to get killed,” she called but doubted that the coachman would hear her above rumbling of the carriage wheels, and the ferocity of the storm. Outside, one of the horses squealed again, and signalled yet another increase in the carriage’s speed.