The Solemn Bell(64)

Angelica willed her hands to stay down. Captain Neill couldn’t catch her flapping. “Is it very chic?”

“You put the lights of London to shame. I ought to go down in uniform, since I’ll be fighting chaps off you.”

She and Bessie laughed at his joke.

“But do you like it?” she asked, growing serious.

“I certainly didn’t think they made a shade of silk that could match your eyes…”

Angelica smiled. “You like my eyes.”

“I love them. And I love your frock.”

She could hear the first strains of music drifting up through the floorboards. Earlier, Captain Neill had promised to dance every waltz with her. Angelica looked forward to learning more steps, so that, eventually, they could share more dances. The sooner they went downstairs, the sooner their night together could begin.

“Well, Bessie,” he said. “Are you ready to turn her loose?”

The maid rushed a few last-minute adjustments before proclaiming her charge finished.

“Give us a moment alone, then.” His husky voice made Angelica’s heart flutter.

When they were finally alone, he swept her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Both their hearts were fluttering by the time he eased her back down to the land of jazz bands, evening gowns, and stiff, starched shirtfronts.

“I want you to know,” he said, still breathless, “that I’ve never been more proud to have a woman by my side. Thank you for letting me be your escort.”

She laughed. What an odd thing for him to say. Truly, she was the lucky one.

“People tell you all the time how beautiful you are, and I know you’ll hear it a hundred more times before this party is over, but I hope that tonight you feel beautiful, Angelica.”

“Thank you, Brody. I think I needed to hear that.”

He took her gloved hand in his. “Shall we go down?”

Together, they left her bedroom, crossed the corridor, and descended the marble steps that curved down to the busy ground floor. All the public rooms were thrown open—the library, drawing room, ballroom, and the dining room, where guests helped themselves to a buffet supper and an endless supply of champagne. Angelica smelled roast beef, salmon, potatoes, ham, cheeses, and more desserts than could possibly be eaten in one night. There would be leftovers for weeks.

As they walked from room to room, people stopped them to greet Captain Neill. He was always courteous and polite, and eager to introduce her to his acquaintances. Their reaction was mixed—some folk simply didn’t know what to make of her—but he seemed genuinely happy to show her off. It felt as if he wanted the entire party to know she was his girl.

The more she talked, the easier conversation became. When she was quiet and shy, people retreated from her. Yet, when she smiled brightly and laughed loudly, they seemed to open up, as well. Soon, Angelica had guests approaching her, desperate for an introduction. She hadn’t even found time to sample any of the darling little cakes everyone raved about.

Cynthia Cartwright bumped into them, already drunk. “What a crush!” she said, nearly burning a hole in Captain Neill’s dinner jacket with the hot end of her long cigarette. “So sorry about that. One can hardly move in here.”

“Have you seen my family?” he asked, shouting above the noise.

“Ballroom.”

He thanked her, and then started to walk away, but Cynthia stopped them. “Your frock is simply divine, Miss Grey,” she said, lips brushing Angelica’s ear as she wobbled. “Has Mary Rose seen it?”

Before she could answer, Captain Neill eased Angelica toward the door. He hadn’t been paying attention to the ladies’ conversation, and was, instead, intent on finding his family. She allowed him to guide her from crowded room to crowded room, elbowing between the guests milling about the hallways and corridors.

Eventually, he and Angelica reached the ballroom. The air was hot and heavy, even though the windows had been thrown open to the night air. People reeked of stale cigarettes, champagne, and sweat. Some stank of chemicals she couldn’t begin to understand—only that they reminded her of the way Captain Neill smelled on the night they first met. Others smelled of hair brilliantine, and floral-scented toilet water.

Angelica wondered who they all were, and where they had all come from. Was Mary Rose Neill so important that half the county turned up for her birthday?





CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

“Brody!” Marcus called across the queue of guests for the receiving line.

“Ah. This way, Angelica.” Captain Neill held her hand as he cut their way through the crowd.

When they reached him, Marcus bent down to kiss her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a frock that blue. It certainly compliments your eyes.”

Everyone always seemed to make a fuss about her eyes. The wasted things were no longer an embarrassment to her—she was learning to be proud of them. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“Are you having a nice time?”

She smiled. “Oh, yes. I’ve never been to a party before. It’s all quite thrilling, don’t you think?”

“I don’t really care for these things, myself,” he explained. “Brody has always been the sociable one.”

Angelica laughed. “I’m starting to realize that. I think it took us half an hour to cross the house. Everyone wanted to chat with him.”