A Not So Respectable Gentleman?. Diane Gaston
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they had enjoyed a masquerade in Venice before contracting the fever that killed them.
As Leo neared the supper boxes, so close to the ones his parents had secured that night, he stopped to put on his mask. He presented his invitation to the footman at the entrance. Because it was a masquerade, no guests were announced and Leo could slip into the crowd in perfect anonymity.
Almost immediately he found his sister Charlotte, dressed as a shepherdess, but he did not reveal himself to her. No, this night he’d take advantage of his disguise. He walked through the crush of people, searching for Mariel.
Finally the crowd parted, revealing her, as if gates had opened to display a treasure. Her hood and cape hung behind her shoulders. Her headdress was a roll of gold cloth, worn like a crown. She looked like a queen from a bygone age. He savoured the sight of her before moving closer.
He had no difficulty spotting Kellford or Mariel’s parents, or the fact that Mariel was edging away from them. He stepped forwards to help her, deliberately pushing his way between her and Kellford and remaining in Kellford’s way.
His ploy worked. She hurried away from them and let the crowd swallow her. Leo waited a moment before following her, confident he could find her no matter how many people obscured his view.
He was correct.
Darkness was falling fast, but he was able to glimpse her making her way out of the supper box. She covered her head with her hood and hurried towards the large gazebo in the centre of the gardens. The orchestra was still playing on its balcony, high above the area where guests danced to the music.
He continued, walking quickly, puzzled at what she was about. It was not safe for her to leave the protection of the supper boxes. In addition to revellers, Vauxhall Gardens attracted pickpockets and other rogues and miscreants who combed the gardens searching for easy prey.
She weaved her way around the dancers until she was on the other side of the gardens near the Grand Walk. She made her way to one of the trees that bordered the area and leaned against it.
He slowed his pace and stopped a few feet from her. ‘Mariel?’
She started and then gave him a careful look. ‘Leo.’ Her tone was flat. Obviously his mask had not disguised him from her.
He came closer. ‘It is not safe to walk alone here.’
‘Indeed?’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘Do you not think walking alone is preferable to remaining on Kellford’s arm? I confess, I do.’
He scowled. ‘Is that why you ran off? To get away from him?’
She made a disparaging sound. ‘Were you watching me, Leo?’
‘I came in hopes of speaking with you,’ he admitted.
She turned away to face the dancers twirling and gliding like fairies in a dream. ‘We can have nothing to say to each other.’
‘I need to know—’
She stopped him from speaking, putting her hand on his arm and moving to the other side of the tree.
‘What is it?’ He glanced around.
She gestured with her chin. ‘Kellford is looking for me.’
Leo caught sight of him, perusing the crowd, moving closer to where they stood.
He grasped her arm. ‘Let us make you more difficult to spot.’ He pulled her into the crowd of dancers.
The orchestra played a French waltz and the dancers had formed two circles, one inside the other. Leo led Mariel to the inner circle. He placed his hands on her waist; her hands rested on his shoulders. Their eyes met and locked together as they twirled with the circle of dancers. The sky grew darker by the minute and everything and everyone surrounding them blurred.
Leo only saw Mariel.
Her face remained sombre, as did his own, he imagined. Did she feel the same emotions that were coursing through him? Savouring. Yearning. Regretting.
How different their lives would have been had his parents been respectably married. Had there been no fire. They would have married. Had children. Built a prosperous stud farm together. Had a lovely life.
What foolish fancy. He’d learned early that it was no use to wish for what one could not change.
The orchestra stopped playing and a violinist began playing a solo. Some of the dancers stopped to listen; the others made their way back to their boxes or to the booths selling food and wine.
Mariel averted her gaze. ‘Thank you for coming to my rescue, Leo. Another good deed you have performed.’
She sounded despairing and he ached for her.
He searched for Kellford and no longer saw him. ‘Walk with me.’ He extended his hand.
Mariel hesitated. She should never have danced with him, even if it meant being discovered by Kellford.
Oh, she was full of foolishness this night. She’d so abhorred Kellford’s presence being forced on her in this beautiful place of fantasy and romance that she’d impulsively run from him.
Perhaps she had sensed Leo nearby, because she was not entirely surprised when he appeared in front of her. It has been foolish indeed to dance with him, to swirl to the sensual melody, to lose herself in Leo’s warm hazel eyes, his gaze more piercing framed by his mask.
No, she should not walk with him. She must be sensible.
But his fingers beckoned. ‘Please, Mariel?’
She glanced around, wondering what would happen if Kellford found her, especially with another man. Mariel had sensed the falseness of Kellford’s gallantry even before Leo told her of the man’s perversions. His actions towards her might speak to others of a solicitous lover, but Mariel had known all along that all he wanted was her money. His solicitousness was merely a means to control her every move.
She’d been clever enough to escape him this night. She’d find some excuse to offer him for disappearing from his side.
If only she could think of some way to rid herself of him entirely.
She stared at Leo’s extended hand, temptation itself.
Before she knew it, she’d placed her hand in his and felt his warmth and strength through her glove. ‘Do not take me back to the supper box.’
He nodded.
They stepped onto the gravel of the Grand Walk and, like so many other couples, strolled to the fountain. Beyond the fountain the paths led through trees as thick as a forest. The Dark Walk, they called it, a place where lovers could disappear and indulge in intimacies forbidden in the light.
They entered the Dark Walk and walked past the illusionist making cards appear and disappear at will. They continued and soon the darkness of a moonless night surrounded them. Then, all at once, the thousands of gas lamps strung throughout in the trees were lit and the night blazed with light.
Mariel gasped. It was as if they’d been lifted to the stars. She glanced at Leo and saw the wonder of the sight reflected in his eyes, as well. It had always been like this between them. An instant understanding. Conversing without needing to use words.
To be so close to him again made it seem as if no time had passed, as if they were still young and full of optimism, eager to lose themselves in the Dark Walk. In those days he would have pulled her into the privacy of the trees. He would have placed his lips on hers and she would have soared to the stars with happiness.
She shook herself. They were no longer young and full of optimism. They were no longer in love.
They came upon an area almost as private as in her imagination, a bench set in among the shrubbery, almost completely concealed from the path itself.
‘Shall we sit a moment?’ he asked.
She should resist the