An Angel Runs Away (8 page)

But the gown the Duchess had ordered for her was as unusual and sensational as was everything else.

Because it was correct that Ula should wear white, her gown was white, but with a difference.

Underneath it there was a silver sheath which fitted close to her body.

There was a fringe of diamante falling around the hem and hanging from the exquisitely cut bodice, which revealed the curves of her figure and set off the translucent whiteness of her skin.

Every time she moved she shimmered and glittered almost like a fountain and there were diamonds sprinkled in her fair hair and on her shoes, which peeped from beneath the hem of her gown.

She looked like a nymph who had risen from the lake and was still glistening from the silver water.

“You look very beautiful, my child,” the Duchess said as they met when she came into the drawing room, where the guests dining in the house were assembled.

Ula watched to see if the Marquis approved and she saw his eyes under his drooping eyelids flickering over her.

He himself was looking positively Regal, wearing the Order of the Garter and decorations on his evening coat, which had been awarded not only for his position at Court but had also been won for gallantry in battle.

The diamond garter around his leg and his exquisitely tied cravat would have made him outstanding even apart from his handsome looks, dark hair and broad shoulders.

“You look magnificent!” Ula exclaimed impulsively.

“You should be waiting to receive my compliments,” the Marquis drawled with a bored expression on his face. “That is the way a young lady of fashion and, of course, an ‘Incomparable’ would behave.”

For a moment Ula, thinking he was serious, looked upset and the colour rose in her cheeks.

Then she realised that he was teasing her and countered,

“Lady of fashion or not, I am speaking the truth and I am sure that most of our guests, and especially the ladies like myself, would far rather look at you than at me!”

The Marquis laughed as if he could not help it.

Then he said,

“Tonight it is you we are concerned with. You have to shine and make certain that everybody is aware of you.”

“Now you are frightening me,” Ula said. “Suppose I fail you – and you are angry.”

“If I am, I can always drown you in the fountain!”

She laughed again.

“That would be a delightful death and certainly a very original one!”

“You are not to talk of death,” the Duchess said sharply. “It is unlucky. Tonight we are all very much alive and remember, Ula, to enjoy your compliments and not be embarrassed by them.”

“I shall not be embarrassed,” Ula replied, “just suspicious that they are not sincere.”

“They will be,” the Duchess added firmly. “You can be sure of that!”

*

Ula certainly did receive a great number of compliments as soon as the guests began to arrive.

She was aware, too, that they looked at her with curiosity.

They also found it exceedingly surprising that the Marquis should have broken his rule of the past of never giving a ball at his own house.

It was always thought, she had discovered, that it was something he would never do because he disliked people trampling about on his carpets and intruding into what he thought of as a private part of his life.

By the time dinner was ended and the ball had started, she found it impossible to think about anything except how thrilling it was to be part of it all.

As she was receiving by the side of the Marquis and the Duchess, it was quite obvious to everybody that the ball was being given for her and she would undoubtedly be the talk of the gentlemen who came from the Clubs in St. James’s.

It was when about half the guests invited after dinner had arrived, that standing beside the Duchess and the Marquis, Ula was aware of who was coming up the stairs directly behind those who were just being presented.

There was no mistaking her uncle’s rather pugnacious face and the scowl between his eyes which she knew meant that he was very annoyed.

Nor could she miss the expression of anger in her aunt’s face and when she looked at Sarah she realised how furious she was.

The Duchess greeted them first.

“How delightful to see you both,” she said in her soft voice, holding out her hand first to the Countess and then to the Earl.

“It is a long time since we have had the pleasure,” he said somewhat grudgingly.

“We must talk about the old days later on,” the Duchess said graciously.

The Earl passed the Marquis, while the Countess lingered behind to talk to the Duchess.

“Nice to see you, Chessington-Crewe!” the Marquis said genially.

“I missed you the other day when you called on me,” the Earl replied. “What happened?”

“Oh, something of no consequence,” the Marquis replied in an unconcerned manner. “We must talk about it another time.”

It was then that the Earl moved to face Ula.

One moment he looked hard at her and he looked so furious that she instinctively took a step back as if she was afraid that he was going to strike her.

Then, without saying a word, he walked on.

The Countess reached the Marquis a moment later and then faced Ula.

She almost gasped as she took in Ula’s appearance, the expensive and unusual gown she was wearing and the elegance of the way her hair was dressed. And her eyes did not miss the necklace of real pearls the Duchess had lent her.

She looked her up and down as though she was a creature that she found singularly unpleasant and then, as her husband sat down, she walked on without speaking.

Lady Sarah halted in front of the Marquis.

“I have missed you,” she said in a low voice.

Her face turned up to his was so beautiful that Ula could not imagine how any man could resist such loveliness.

“I am delighted that you were able to come tonight,” the Marquis said in a non-committal voice.

He would have turned to the next guest had not Lady Sarah held on to his hand.

“When shall I see you?” she asked.

“Later this evening, I hope,” he replied.

It was not the answer she wanted, but he firmly removed his hand from hers to hold it out to the next guest who had already greeted the Duchess.

There was nothing Lady Sarah could do but move on another step and this brought her in front of Ula.

The expression on her face changed completely and she was no longer beautiful, but almost ugly in her fury.

“I will
kill
you for this!” she hissed in a voice that only Ula could hear.

Then she walked on.

The band was soft and melodious, the ballroom looked entrancing with its pink candles.

As Ula was besieged by would-be partners asking to be introduced to her, she thought everything was exactly as she had dreamt it would be, only even more marvellous.

She was, however, although she tried to suppress it, acutely conscious of her uncle’s and aunt’s and Sarah’s hatred, which seemed to vibrate at her across the room.

She tried not to look in their direction, but when she did so, she was thankful to find that Sarah was surrounded by young men, so that she could not complain on that account.

Nevertheless, she knew, although it was ungrateful to think so, that they spoilt the party for her.

But she enjoyed every dance, only being disappointed that the Marquis did not ask her to dance with him.

However, he had made it very clear before the ball that he never danced if he could possibly help it.

“Sometimes it has to happen in the line of duty,” he had drawled, “but I prefer cards and that is where I shall be if I have the chance.”

Nevertheless, Ula was aware that he was a conscientious and charming host and there was no chance at all of his being relieved of his duties after the Prince Regent had arrived.

When Ula was presented to him, and sank down in a deep curtsey, she wished only that her mother could see her and know that at last she had attained all that she had longed for but had thought impossible.

“I am told you are a new beauty,” the Prince Regent said in his thick voice, but with a smile that was irresistible.

“I am afraid, Sire, that your informants were being over-optimistic,” Ula replied.

The Prince Regent thought this amusing and laughed.

“Are you really so modest?” he asked. “And you must not lie to me, for you look like a small angel who would always tell the truth.”

“That is what I thought myself, Sire,” the Marquis remarked, who was standing beside him.

“If once again, Drogo, you have beaten me to the post,” the Prince Regent said, “I shall be extremely annoyed!”

As if she thought he was being serious, Ula said quickly,

“I am sure, Sire, no one could do that, when Your Royal Highness’s original ideas in the world of art are known all over the country.”

As the Prince was having difficulty in making even his friends appreciate his purchase of the Dutch pictures and some sculpture that had not yet become fashionable, he was delighted.

“I can see, Miss Forde,” he said, “that I shall have to invite you to Carlton House to see my new acquisitions and I can only hope that you will find them, if not superior to, at least different from what Raventhorpe has already packed into his ‘Palace of Treasures’.”

Ula laughed, knowing that the Prince Regent, while he was genuinely fond of the Marquis, was also a little jealous of him.

“I hope, Sire,” she said, “that is a promise you will not forget.”

“I assure you I shall not do so,” the Prince Regent said gallantly.

As he moved away to speak to somebody else, Ula glanced at the Marquis and knew from the expression on his face that he was pleased with her.

She felt a little thrill of delight that she had not failed in what she realised had been a demanding test.

Then she saw again the fury in her uncle’s eyes as he looked at her from the other side of the room and it was like a shower of cold water drowning her feeling of pleasure.

She hurried back to the side of the Duchess.

“Here you are, child,” she said as Ula moved close to her, as if she felt in need of protection. “I was wondering where you were because His Highness Prince Hasin of Kubaric is eager to meet you.”

Ula knew at once who the Duchess was speaking about, because the Marquis had in fact expressed extreme annoyance when the Turkish Ambassador had asked whether he could bring His Highness to the ball.

“There are more than enough people as it is,” the Marquis had fumed when he received the Ambassador’s letter, “but I suppose it’s impossible for me to refuse him.”

“I think it would make things very uncomfortable if you did,” the Duchess replied. “I expect the Prince is staying at the Turkish Embassy and there is nothing the Ambassador, who is really a very nice man, can do but get him invited to every entertainment that London provides.”

With a somewhat bad grace the Marquis therefore sent a note to the Turkish Ambassador to say most untruthfully that he would welcome Prince Hasin to the ball.

Since her father had been very interested in the different States in the East, Ula actually knew without being told where Kubaric was.

It was a small, so-called independent state, where the Eastern Ottoman Empire bordered Afghanistan. It had, she recalled, a great potentiality for the production of jewels, which lay mostly unmined in its mountains.

The reigning Prince, her father had told her, lived in great style while the mass of his subjects were miserably poor.

She therefore looked with interest at Prince Hasin as the Duchess presented her.

She saw that he was a man rising forty, slightly stout from what she was sure was soft living and his face, which when he was younger could have been good-looking, showed signs of debauchery.

She suspected, amongst other things, that he indulged in the use of drugs, which were so prevalent, her father had told her, in that part of the world.

When the Prince’s eyes met hers, she knew that he was not just unpleasant, but in some way she could not define, dangerous.

She was sure of this when, as he took her hand and she sank in a low curtsey, she felt his vibrations were if not evil, certainly extremely unpleasant.

She wanted to walk away from him immediately, but without being rude it was impossible for her to do so when he put his arm around her waist and drew her onto the dance floor.

The band was playing a waltz, which had just been introduced into England by the Russian Ambassador’s wife, the witty Princess de Lieven. It was, however, frowned upon, being thought too intimate by a number of the older and more severe hostesses.

There was nothing Ula could do but let the Prince move her around the dance floor to the strain of the romantic music.

She was uncomfortably aware that he was holding her closer than any of her other partners had done and that his voice, as he talked to her, was deep with an emotion she did not like to define, even to herself.

“You are very beautiful, Miss Forde!”

Ula did not answer and he went on,

“Are you cold and reserved, as so many English women profess to be or is there fire behind those sparkling eyes, a fire which I wish to burn for me?”

With an effort Ula managed to say,

“I find it – difficult to follow what Your Highness is – saying when I am afraid of – missing a step. I have not often – danced the waltz before.”

“If I am the first to dance a waltz with you,” the Prince said again in that deep, rather frightening voice, “then I would wish to be the first to kiss you, the first man to awaken you to the joys of love.”

Ula held herself as stiffly as she could and made no attempt to answer what the Prince had just said.

After a moment he remarked,

“I am told that your uncle is the Earl of Chessington-Crewe, whom I have met on the Racecourse.”

This, Ula thought, was safer ground and she quickly asked,

“Does Your Highness own racehorses?”

“Not in this country, but I am building up a stable in Kubaric.”

“How interesting!” Ula said.