A Flight To Heaven (12 page)

An unpleasant tone was creeping into his voice.

She heard his boots squeak as he came towards her and could not help a shiver as she felt his breath on the back of her neck.

And then his hands were on her elbows, twisting her around to face him.

“You must know how I feel about you,” he said in a low voice.

Chiara closed her eyes, blocking out his face and his fierce cold stare.

“It was agony to be away from you for so long,” he continued. “And then to see you at the ball, so exquisite in your white gown and I realised – ”

“Please, let me go!” she cried, twisting away from him, but he renewed his firm grip on her arms, pressing her back against the window frame.

“I just cannot live without you!” Mervyn Hunter breathed.

He seized her hand and crushed it against his lips.

Then, still holding her so that she could not move, he dropped to his knees.

“I adore you,” he sighed. “I must have you for my wife.”

“No,
no
!”

A black tide of horror rose up inside her head as he pulled her down towards him.

“Oh – look at you! Sweet creature – half swooning with bliss!” he continued, pressing his mouth against her forehead.

“I cannot – I don’t – ” she struggled against the tide of darkness that pulled her down.

“You can, you shall!” he said and now his lips were pushing against hers, demanding and impulsive. “You are mine!”

Her ears were ringing and she felt as if her soul was leaving her body, drifting up towards the ceiling, as the darkness overcame her mind and she fell to the carpet in a dead faint.

“Poor child!” Chiara heard his voice, as if he was a long way off at the end of a dark tunnel and her stomach turned over with revulsion. “She is completely overcome with excitement.”

A sharp whiff of smelling salts burned her nose and then she felt a soft cushion being placed under her head and her mother’s soft hand holding hers.

“Oh, darling, are you feeling better?” Lady Fairfax asked. “The colour seems to be coming back into your cheeks.”

Chiara opened her eyes.

The three of them, her Mama, Mervyn Hunter and Lord Darley were all standing over her.

“I-I am fine,” she managed to say, although she felt very weak and sick.

“I believe that congratulations may be in order!” Lord Darley piped up.

Chiara shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

“What?”

“Darling! Has is slipped your mind that Mr. Hunter has just proposed to you!” her Mama laughed with delight. “We are so thrilled for you!”

“No – I – ” Chiara stammered.

“You cannot have forgotten, darling. It was just a few moments ago.”

Chiara forced herself to sit up.

“Mama – I remember – ”

Then she had to close her eyes, struggling to keep herself from fainting again, as she now recalled the heat of Mervyn Hunter’s lips against hers.

“But – I – don’t – ”

“We must not rush things,” Mervyn Hunter’s voice rang in her ears. “It’s easy to forget that the charming creature we saw at the ball is still very young and how innocent! My poor sweetheart.”

Chiara then felt his rough hand replace her Mama’s, crushing her fingers tightly.

“You must rest,” he suggested. “I shall cease from plaguing you with all my devoted attentions until you are feeling stronger, my love.”

He dropped her hand and Chiara could hear him speaking to Lord Darley, their voices dwindling to a faint murmur as they left the drawing room.

“Whatever is wrong, Chiara?” Lady Fairfax asked, bending over her. “Are you ill? I have never seen you like this before. I should have thought you would be radiant with happiness. Your very first proposal! And from such a delightful gentleman.”

“Mama – I am quite well – ”

Chiara’s voice felt thick in her throat, but she had to speak the truth.

“But – I don’t like Mr. Hunter. I cannot – ”

“
Not like him
?” Lady Fairfax’s face fell. “But, my darling, he is Tom’s best friend!”

“He is not quite – I don’t like – ”

How could she explain to her Mama the terrible distress that she felt when Mervyn Hunter touched her and thrust his lips against hers?

“Oh, my dearest Chiara!” Lady Fairfax was smiling again. “I think I can understand you. Mr. Hunter is a very
passionate
gentleman – he is so in love with you and he cannot help but show you his feelings very strongly. And, darling, perhaps that is a little too shocking for you. As he says, you are very young.”

“Mama – I don’t like him!”

Chiara felt her breath grow tight with panic.

“Oh, my darling!” Lady Fairfax was laughing now. “You will soon get used to him, believe me. We must just give you a little time.”

Somehow it was more difficult to argue against her mother’s amusement than if she had been angry and Chiara felt so weak and confused that she decided to say no more.

“Don’t fret, my darling, all will be well!”

She then smoothed Chiara’s hair back away her forehead.

“Just think – you and I have both had a proposal of marriage in the last few days – isn’t that a wonderful thing? You must not be afraid if you are not quite ready – there is no rush.”

And with that Chiara had to be content.

*

“This is a very unexpected pleasure. What brings you to London, brother?”

Mrs. Fulwell greeted Mervyn Hunter with a kiss on his cheek, hiding her strong irritation that he should turn up unannounced like this.

Fond as she was of him, she could not help but think how out of place he looked in the tiny sitting room of her rented flat cluttered as it was with embroidery frames and ladies’ magazines.

And she was sure that she could detect a whiff of horse coming from his riding boots.

“I’ve been thrown out!” he spluttered.

“What? But Mervyn – I thought the girl was yours for the taking. Has she turned you down?”

“She’s playing hard to get. Little fool.”

“Oh, no! Is all lost?”

“Mama says give her time and she’ll come round.”

He sighed and slumped down on the sofa.

“It’s a poor outlook for me, if Tom gets hitched to Lady Fairfax and the daughter gives me the cold shoulder.”

“She could not wish for a better man than you, my dear brother.”

“Absolutely and she’s not had much chance to look at the competition. Only been to one ball that I know of.”

“We must keep it that way, Mervyn. We don’t want any other gentlemen sneaking past the post first.”

A little smile crept onto Mrs. Fulwell’s face. An interesting idea had occurred to her.

“I would like to meet this Lady Fairfax. Perhaps I should take the girls to Norfolk for a visit.”

Mervyn Hunter’s eyebrows shot up.

“I thought you had a big fish to fry in London.”

“No, alas. The Russian Count has returned home. I would follow, but I don’t have the funds to take the three of us.”

“Then yes – why not go to Norfolk. Lady Fairfax will be delighted, I am sure. Your girls will be company for the precious Lady Chiara and you can keep an eye on the little minx for me.”

“I should love to do that for you, brother. She is still very young, as you say. Perhaps you have been a little too – how shall I put it – manly for her taste, my dear. But I am sure she’ll come round. I will do my best to plead your cause. And you may stay here, while we are away.”

Mervyn Hunter lay back on the sofa and stretched out his boots to the fire that flickered in the tiny grate.

“Your grasp of tactics is as good as ever, sister,” he said. “You would have made a first-rate General.”

Mrs. Fulwell sniffed.

“I should rather be a lady and live a life of ease and comfort,” she said. “I am very tired of this life – struggling to make ends meet. It’s now time things came good for us, brother.”

Mervyn Hunter nodded his hearty agreement as his sister went to make tea for him.

*

“It really is exceedingly inconsiderate of Elizabeth to decide to get married now,” Lady Fairfax puffed. “There is so much to do for my own wedding and we have guests arriving tomorrow.”

Chiara was packing her trunk to return to Ely for a few days.

“It’s the only time that Arthur is free, Mama. You know that and if Elizabeth is to go to India with him, I may not see her again for many years. I
must
go.”

“Well, I can only hope that your friend will be able to persuade you of the advantages of accepting the sincere attentions of a gentleman who cares for you as deeply as Mr. Hunter does.”

A chill ran over Chiara’s skin, as it always did when she heard that name.

“Speak with Elizabeth, darling. She is more mature and experienced than you are. Let her talk some sense into you,” Lady Fairfax burbled on.

“Yes, Mama. I am sure we will not be able to stop talking – it’s so long since we have seen each other.”

That, at least, was true, Chiara thought. But what would Elizabeth make of Mervyn Hunter?

She closed the lid of her trunk and snapped the lock together. She was ready to go and her heart gave a little skip of joy at the thought of seeing Ely again.

*

“Chiara. You are blushing!” Elizabeth cried. “You turn pink every time we talk about Mr. Hunter!”

The two girls were sitting side by side on the blue silk coverlet of Elizabeth’s bed.

In between them lay a pile of lace petticoats that were to be folded and packed for Elizabeth’s honeymoon.

“You
must
feel something for him, don’t you?” she continued.

“Well, I suppose so – but it’s not a pleasant feeling, Elizabeth.”

Chiara could not bring herself to talk of the deep revulsion that she felt when Mervyn Hunter touched her, even to her best friend.

“How – do you feel, when Arthur – kisses you?” she asked, feeling suddenly shy.

“Oh, goodness me! I just cannot begin to describe it! Marvellous! Just all warm and loved and – ”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself at the thought, her eyes shining with joy.

“Do you feel – like you could fly away? When he puts his arms around you?”

Chiara remembered the ballroom at Sandringham and the Count’s light touch on the small of her back as they twirled around the dance floor.

“Yes, sometimes and sometimes I just feel so safe and happy. I feel like I have ‘come home’, if you know what I mean.”

Elizabeth frowned as she tried to put into words her deepest and most private feelings.

Chiara gave a little shudder.

“When Mervyn Hunter touches me, I feel just like I have to run away,” she admitted. “I actually fainted once – when he proposed to me.”

“I well remember being a little nervous sometimes, when Arthur was first in love with me. He was so strong and so loving and I did even feel quite faint once.”

“But Elizabeth – I don’t like him! When I see him – I feel cold. I have tried to tell Mama.”

“You are going all pink again,” Elizabeth reached out and took her hand. “Chiara, if you don’t like him, you will never be able to love him.”

“No! I cannot! I hate the way that he looks at me – there is nothing about him I like.”

Chiara felt relief rush through her body, as she saw that Elizabeth understood and believed her.

“You cannot marry this man,” her friend said. “It’s a shame, as I was so very excited to hear that you had had a proposal. And I am sure your Mama feels the same way, but you cannot accept him.”

“I never shall,” Chiara answered, feeling very much stronger and happier now that she had Elizabeth’s support. “But – we must not talk any more about all that.
You
are getting married tomorrow and that is the most important thing.”

*

Next day, the sun shone through the great stained glass windows of Ely Cathedral, shedding bright jewels of light over the stone floor.

But the brightest light of all shone from Elizabeth’s glowing eyes, as she walked back down the wide aisle on the arm of her new husband, Arthur.

Chiara stared spellbound at her dear friend, hardly recognising the gracious woman in the cream silk gown, her red hair smoothed close to her head under the swept-back veil.

All through the Reception, she could only marvel at the endless happiness and joy that seemed to radiate out of the couple, infecting all those who came near them.

The Dean made a gracious sermon from the pulpit, but there were tears in his eyes as he made his speech at the Reception, wishing happiness and long life to his daughter and his new son-in-law.

Chiara tried to imagine herself in Elizabeth’s place, with Mervyn Hunter at her side, but all she could feel was emptiness.

There would be no light of joy in his eyes, as there was now in Arthur’s as he closely watched Elizabeth cut the wedding cake.

Mervyn Hunter would take Chiara as his wife in the same way that he had danced with her, roughly and impetuously, without care or kindness.

All too soon it was time for the couple to leave. Before she stepped into the carriage, Elizabeth raised her bouquet of white hyacinths and narcissus.

As she threw it, her eyes met Chiara’s and her lips mouthed the words,

‘For you! Be happy!’

And the flowers flew like a white bird through the air and landed in Chiara’s outstretched hands, their sweet perfume filling the air.

“Chiara, I simply cannot believe my ears!”

Lady Fairfax sat upright on the drawing room sofa at Rensham Hall, her face a picture of disappointment.

“This is not what I was expecting to hear at all.”

“I am sorry, Mama, if I have upset you. But I have to be truthful and, as I have just said, I don’t want to marry Mervyn Hunter – I really cannot.”

All the way back from Ely, she had been making up her mind to talk to her mother.

Now, it took all of her strength to speak firmly and calmly, when what she really wanted to do was to run out of the drawing room, escape to the stable yard and bury her face in Erebus’s white mane.

The little pony would certainly not condemn her for refusing Mervyn Hunter, the man who had caused him to fall and lamed him.

“But darling, I
am
upset. I had such a lovely plan and now it will never come about.” Lady Fairfax dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I thought we might have had a double wedding – Tom and myself and you and Mr. Hunter! We would have been the talk of Society.”