Страница 23 из 70
Carlton, who was nothing if not observant, remarked, "That is Lady Morton. Looks like a horse, doesn't she? And has the ma
He did not trouble to lower his voice. Maria
"Why is she staring at me?" she whispered.
"As I said, she had the ma
"From you?"
Carlton laughed softly. "Come, Miss Ransom, you can hardly suppose that I would sink so low as to gossip with Lady Morton. Nor can you be so naive to think that the Dowager Duchess of Devenbrook can take a beautiful unknown young lady into her household without creating a stir. Servants will talk."
Maria
The lawyer returned her stare. After a moment he shook his head. "You are too good to be true, Miss Ransom. Be still now and listen to the pretty music."
When the lights went up after the first act, Maria
"Your pleasure is thanks enough," the Duchess replied affectionately. "Would you care for an ice? Or would you like to stroll, to stretch your limbs? Roger will accompany you."
"Alas, I fear that Roger will have no such opportunity," the lawyer replied with a sly smile. "The old lady was probably out of her seat before Patti hit her last high C."
With his enigmatic speech he rose lazily to his feet, just in time to greet the woman who had appeared in the door of the box.
In the days of Queen Victoria's predecessors the opera often served as just another social gathering. The gentry visited one another's boxes during the intervals and continued loud conversations during the actual performance, to the a
The stare was even more formidable at close range, and its effect was increased by Lady Morton's extreme strabismus. Not only did she squint, but one eye was turned so far to the left of its normal position that only a white orb confronted the victim. The only thing that saved Maria
The ensuing conversation – or rather, inquisition – was notable as an example of how rude an elderly titled lady could be without being reprimanded or cut dead. It began with an inquiry into Maria
"Ransom. I once knew a Harold Ransom. He was up at Christ Church with my brother."
"That would not be a co
"There are Ransoms in Devonshire."
Maria
There being no way of evading this demand without rudeness, Maria
"What part of Yorkshire?"
Maria
Mercifully the Duchess herself came to the rescue, breaking up the tete-a-tete by introducing the other visitors who had crowded the box to bursting point. "Lord Ronald… The Honorable Miss Ditherson… Lord Willoughby…" All were of the Duchess's generation, and all were as curious as Lady Morton. But they were not so ill-bred, and the sheer number of them, which forced conversation to become general, saved Maria
The warning bell sounded and the visitors rose to leave. Lady Morton was, of course, the last to go, and thus Maria
Lady Morton nodded, and shot a glance at Maria
But instead of a name Lady Morton emitted a grunt of pain, clutching her side and glaring indignantly at Lord Ronald, who had passed her on his way out. The elderly nobleman went on, unaware. He, as Maria
"Dear me, what a crush," said the Duchess, her color a trifle high. "William" – addressing the footman, who was closing the door on Lady Morton – "deny us, please, in the next interval; this is really too much, it interferes with one's enjoyment of the music."
Thanks to this directive the remainder of Lucia di Lammermoor passed without interruption, and the second interval was spent in quiet conversation. Yet Maria
The crush down the stairs and across the lobby was so great that she had to cling closely to Roger Carlton's arm. He treated her as he would treat any rather boring young lady to whom he was obliged to be polite. They had almost reached the exit when she saw it – a face, distinct as a carved and tinted mask, staring directly into her eyes over the backs of the crowd ahead. The features had burned themselves into her memory: the sallow, lined skin, the piercing black eyes, the twisted, evil smile.
Maria
"What the devil…? I beg your pardon. Are you ill?"
"It was he," Maria
"Who?"
"Mr. Bagshot."
"Where?"
"There, by the door." But when she looked again, the evil face had vanished.
Carlton surveyed the crowd. He shook his head.
"I don't see him. The opera is not his type of entertainment, Miss Ransom. Are you sure it was not your imagination?"
"No, no! I tell you, I saw him! And he recognized me!"
"Hush," Carlton said. "No talk of this before the Duchess, do you hear me? It would distress her. I assure you, you are in no danger from -"
"A figment of my imagination?"
Carlton shrugged. Maria