Lord of the Far Island by Victoria Holt (free e novels .TXT) 📕

I became alarmed at the manner in which the days were flying past. There were sessions with Tilly Parsons while she fitted the ball dress. It was black, heavy velvet, and I had tussles with Tilly over the neckline. I wanted the dress low-cut and that was not according to Cousin Agatha's chosen pattern. By the time I had made Tilly pinch me in at the waist and recut the neckline the dress was slightly more presentable, but it was too old for me—as Cousin Agatha rightly said, it could be worn in twenty years' time and still be presentable because it had that one essential quality—it would never date. No, I had responded sharply, it had never had a date, that dress, and it never would have one, I imagined.

Nanny Grange was sad. This was breaking up with her charges, the fate she said which came to all of her kind. "They come to you as babies, you do everything for them and then they grow up."

"Well, Nanny," I said, "you don't expect them to stay children all their lives just so that you can carry out your duties."

"It's sad," she retorted. "Time passes though. And when Miss Esmeralda gets her babies I'll go with her. And that, if I know anything about it, won't be so very long. Poor Miss Esmeralda, she'll need someone to look after her."

It was through Rosie that I heard the gossip. She got it from her coachman.

"Oh, there's been some conferences going on over there as well as here. My word, they're planning an early wedding. Young people are impatient, they say. I laughed to my Harry. 'Impatient!' I said. 'Why, my Miss Esmeralda don't know what she's got to be impatient about!'"

"You mean they're planning Esmeralda's wedding?"

"To Philip," whispered Rosie. "Of course they would have liked the other one for her."

"You mean the elder brother."

"That's him. That Rollo."

"Why don't they try for him?"

Rosie pressed her lips together to indicate that she knew something which she was longing to tell me but was well aware she shouldn't. I calculated that a little persuasion was going to be necessary and that if I worked hard and long enough I would eventually discover what it was. I did.

"Well, it was about a year ago. . . . Such a to-do there was... in the family of course. Outside it was very secret. Oh, very."

"What, Rosie, what?"

"It was like this: Mr. Rollo got married . . . runaway match, they say. There was a lot of talk, all behind closed doors and the doors are thick oak in Park Lane, I can tell you."

I nodded sympathetically. "But you did find out. . ."

"Well, little things came out. They ran away together. . . elopement and all that. . . and the family not too pleased. Then Mr. Rollo persuaded them that it was all right and they all got reconciled. But we never saw her. That was what was odd. It was just said that Mr. Rollo was abroad with his wife. . . . Very funny it was, for she was never seen at the house. Then we found out why. . . ."

"Why, Rosie?"

"It seems there was something wrong with the marriage. Mr. Rollo had made a terrible mistake. She's somewhere but she don't come to the house."

"Then he's still married to her?"

"Of course he's still married to her and that's why they've got to have Mr. Philip for Miss Esmeralda."

I thought a great deal about Rollo. I had always considered there was something unusual about him and that nothing ordinary could happen to him. It seemed I had been right.

A week or so passed. There had been a visit to the theater with the Carringtons and to my delight I was a member of the party. Philip had kept his word but Cousin Agatha was most put out. "I cannot think why Lady Emily should have included Ellen," I heard her comment. "It's really quite unsuitable, considering that she will soon be working more or less in our own circle. It could give rise to embarrassment. I wonder whether I should speak to Lady Emily."

How I disliked her, far more than I ever had before, and that dislike was largely because of my fear of the future.

I tried not to think about it, but my habit of thrusting aside the unpleasant and deluding myself into the belief that it would never happen was not quite so successful as usual.

The play was the second of Oscar Wilde's productions—A Woman of No Importance—and we went to the Haymarket Theatre to see it. I was greatly excited by the performance of Mr. Tree and between the acts I discussed the play animatedly with Philip and Mr. Carrington, for I was sitting between them.

I noticed that Cousin Agatha was regarding me with intense disapproval, but I didn't care. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The mysterious Rollo was not present and Esmeralda on the other side of Philip said very little.

The next day Cousin Agatha took me to task.

"You talk far too much, Ellen," she told me. "It's a habit you will have to learn to repress. I think Mr. Carrington was a little put out."

"He didn't seem so at all," I couldn't help retorting. "He was most pleasant and appeared to be interested in what I had to say."

"My dear Ellen," said Cousin Agatha in a tone implying that I was anything but dear, "he is a gentleman, and therefore would not dream of expressing his disapproval. I really think Lady Emily was a little unwise to issue the invitation in view of your position. I must again ask you to remember to assume a more modest role in future."

Whatever she said she could not take the joy of that evening from me, and I was sure that Mr. Carrington had been rather amused by my comments and by the manner in which Philip and I disagreed with each other. As for Lady Emily, I had