she has gone to her room,’ said Mrs Makepeace anxiously. She hurried off and Lord Burfield followed her as she made her way through the twisting passages of the old house and then up the staircase to the bedrooms. Mrs Makepeace went into her daughter’s bedroom. Prudence was lying face down on the bed. She turned her over. A small snore sounded. Mrs Makepeace could not believe that Prudence had actually fallen asleep. She was about to ring for the maid to come and undress her daughter when she noticed a little bottle lying next to Prudence’s open hand. She picked it up and recognized the laudanum bottle. What had the child been about to take laudanum? Nothing could be done until the girl woke up and could be questioned.
She rang for the maid and said tetchily in a voice that carried to Lord Burfield’s listening ears, ‘Miss Prudence for some reason has taken a draught of laudanum. Be so good as to undress her.’ She went out of the bedroom and nearly collided with Lord Burfield.
‘Oh, my lord,’ she said, colouring guiltily. ‘I am afraid my Prudence must have been overcome by the excitement of the ball. She is such a sensitive and delicate child. She is fast asleep! Pray return with me below stairs.’
Lord Burfield followed her back to the ballroom, his mind racing. Why had Prudence tried to drug him? He saw the small red-haired Beverley girl watching him anxiously and went to join her. ‘Laudanum,’ he murmured, ‘but let it be our secret. Which Beverley are you?’
‘Lizzie.’
‘Then, Miss Lizzie, I am very much in your debt. I am Burfield.’
‘I know who you are,’ said Lizzie. ‘I asked Miss Trumble, my governess.’
‘You did not tell her the reason for your curiosity?’
‘No, I was so afraid, you see, that it might have been poison.’
‘Well, let us say no more about it.’
‘Some ladies are, I believe,’ said Lizzie, her green eyes glittering like emeralds, ‘monstrous addicted to laudanum.’
‘That may be the case.’
‘But then, why would she put it in your glass?’
‘I shall find out on the morrow, believe me.’
‘And if I keep your secret, will you tell me? You will be calling on Abigail, no doubt.’
‘I promise.’
‘Perhaps that is the reason she may have tried to drug you.’
‘What reason, pray?’
‘To stop you calling on Abigail.’
‘I am sure that cannot be the case. Who would go to such lengths?’
Perhaps Prudence Makepeace, thought Lizzie, but she did not say so aloud.
THREE
The ennui, which seizes me in such an indifferent state of mind, is too clearly written on my undiplomatic face not to extend to others as contagiously as yawning.
PRINCE PÜCKLER-MUSKAU
Abigail began to wonder when her mother intended to leave. The ballroom was beginning to become thin of company but Lady Beverley sat on, talking to a group of chaperones and dowagers with more animation than she had shown in some time. The clock on one of the walls showed it was four in the morning. The footmen were beginning to look jaded. Little Lizzie was sitting on her own in a corner, her eyes drooping. Abigail’s feet in their white kid dancing slippers were aching.
She finished promenading with her partner and was crossing the floor to join Lizzie when Lord Burfield came up to her. ‘The honour of another dance, Miss Abigail?’
‘If I must.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You are ungracious.’
‘I am so very tired, my lord, and Mama shows no sign of leaving.’
‘Dance with me and then I will persuade Lady Evans to send you and your family on your way.’
She smiled up at him. He put his hand at her waist and led her into the steps of the waltz. Abigail did not experience any of the delicious sensations a young lady should feel when waltzing with the most handsome man in the room. All she knew was that she felt comfortable with him, as if she had known him for a long time. She was so weary she was unaware of the speculative looks being cast in their
She rang for the maid and said tetchily in a voice that carried to Lord Burfield’s listening ears, ‘Miss Prudence for some reason has taken a draught of laudanum. Be so good as to undress her.’ She went out of the bedroom and nearly collided with Lord Burfield.
‘Oh, my lord,’ she said, colouring guiltily. ‘I am afraid my Prudence must have been overcome by the excitement of the ball. She is such a sensitive and delicate child. She is fast asleep! Pray return with me below stairs.’
Lord Burfield followed her back to the ballroom, his mind racing. Why had Prudence tried to drug him? He saw the small red-haired Beverley girl watching him anxiously and went to join her. ‘Laudanum,’ he murmured, ‘but let it be our secret. Which Beverley are you?’
‘Lizzie.’
‘Then, Miss Lizzie, I am very much in your debt. I am Burfield.’
‘I know who you are,’ said Lizzie. ‘I asked Miss Trumble, my governess.’
‘You did not tell her the reason for your curiosity?’
‘No, I was so afraid, you see, that it might have been poison.’
‘Well, let us say no more about it.’
‘Some ladies are, I believe,’ said Lizzie, her green eyes glittering like emeralds, ‘monstrous addicted to laudanum.’
‘That may be the case.’
‘But then, why would she put it in your glass?’
‘I shall find out on the morrow, believe me.’
‘And if I keep your secret, will you tell me? You will be calling on Abigail, no doubt.’
‘I promise.’
‘Perhaps that is the reason she may have tried to drug you.’
‘What reason, pray?’
‘To stop you calling on Abigail.’
‘I am sure that cannot be the case. Who would go to such lengths?’
Perhaps Prudence Makepeace, thought Lizzie, but she did not say so aloud.
THREE
The ennui, which seizes me in such an indifferent state of mind, is too clearly written on my undiplomatic face not to extend to others as contagiously as yawning.
PRINCE PÜCKLER-MUSKAU
Abigail began to wonder when her mother intended to leave. The ballroom was beginning to become thin of company but Lady Beverley sat on, talking to a group of chaperones and dowagers with more animation than she had shown in some time. The clock on one of the walls showed it was four in the morning. The footmen were beginning to look jaded. Little Lizzie was sitting on her own in a corner, her eyes drooping. Abigail’s feet in their white kid dancing slippers were aching.
She finished promenading with her partner and was crossing the floor to join Lizzie when Lord Burfield came up to her. ‘The honour of another dance, Miss Abigail?’
‘If I must.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You are ungracious.’
‘I am so very tired, my lord, and Mama shows no sign of leaving.’
‘Dance with me and then I will persuade Lady Evans to send you and your family on your way.’
She smiled up at him. He put his hand at her waist and led her into the steps of the waltz. Abigail did not experience any of the delicious sensations a young lady should feel when waltzing with the most handsome man in the room. All she knew was that she felt comfortable with him, as if she had known him for a long time. She was so weary she was unaware of the speculative looks being cast in their
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