The Danbury Scandals by Mary Nichols Page B

rich. He is certainly
good to look at; I wonder if the other is true too.’
    ‘I am sure I do
not know,’ Maryanne murmured, wishing Caroline would talk about something else;
she was sure her flushed cheeks would give her away.
    ‘I wonder if he
is married?’ Caroline went on. ‘Maryanne, did you find out?’
    ‘No, of course
not. I should not ask such a personal question on so slight an acquaintance.’
    ‘It didn’t look
slight to me,’ Mark said, taking a good gulp from his wine glass. He had
already had quite a lot to drink and Maryanne was afraid he was getting rather
tipsy. One thing she was certain of; it had now become much too late to tell
him, or anyone else, of her earlier meetings with the Frenchman.
    ‘Why did you
call him mysterious?’ she asked Caroline, pretending she had not heard Mark’s
comment.
    The other girl
shrugged. ‘That’s what everyone is saying; he turned up out of nowhere as soon
as the armistice was agreed, and no one knows a thing about his family.’ She
turned to Lady Markham, who had come to see if they had all they wanted. ‘Do
you know his background, my lady?’
    ‘Whose?’
    ‘Why, the
Frenchman. Maryanne danced with him, though how she could do so I cannot
imagine.’
    ‘I introduced
them,’ Lady Markham said. ‘So you may blame me.’
    ‘Is he an aristo ?’
Caroline persisted. ‘Does he have a title?’
    ‘That I cannot
say,’ her ladyship said with perfect truth. ‘He was brought up in France,
though he speaks English well, and he is as forthright as most of his race, and
used to having his own way. You would think that would deter the young ladies,
but if anything the competition is fiercer.’
    ‘I am not
afraid of competition,’ Caroline said. ‘Will you introduce him?’
    ‘If I can find
him,’ her ladyship said, looking round the crowded room. ‘He seems to have
disappeared.’
    ‘You are surely
not thinking of setting your cap at him?’ Mrs Ryfield said, tapping Caroline’s
arm with her fan. ‘He doesn’t sound at all suitable to me.’
    That was just
it, Maryanne thought; he would not be considered suitable and the manner in
which she had first met him made it even more impossible. She would not go to
him; whatever he had to ask her would have to go unasked. She forced herself to
concentrate on the conversation, thankful that the subject had moved on and the
Frenchman was no longer the talking point.
    Supper was over
and she and Mark were strolling back to the ballroom when a servant came to
tell Mark he was wanted by his father in the gaming room. He excused himself
and left her to return to the ballroom with Caroline and Mrs Ryfield, who were
walking a few paces in front. Maryanne hesitated; she would never have a better
opportunity. She turned and walked back along the corridor and slipped into the
garden room, telling herself that he would not have waited and if he had she
would tell him exactly what she thought of his manners, and then leave.
    She shivered
involuntarily as she crept forward. The room was made almost entirely of glass
and was lit only by the light showing through from the ballroom windows. She
almost stumbled over a couple sitting on a low bench with their arms entwined.
The young man muttered an oath and the girl hid her face in her hands, as
Maryanne hurried past them, eyes averted. Was that what Adam expected from her?
How foolish she had been! Almost in panic, she turned to go back. Someone
reached out from beside a huge tropical plant and pulled her behind it. She
opened her mouth to shriek but it was immediately covered by a large hand.
    ‘Be quiet, you
little silly. It’s only me.’ He took his hand from her mouth.
    ‘Let me go
back,’ she whispered. ‘I wish I hadn’t come. If anyone sees us I’ll be ruined.’
    ‘Why did you
come, then, if you are so careful of your reputation? Intrigued, were you?
Curious? I told you about curiosity killing the cat, didn’t I?’
    ‘I...I don’t
know. I didn’t