Page 9 of The Book of Lost Stories

Dread Excitement

The dark shadows seemed to swoop and swirl around her head and she grew dizzy with a kind of dread excitement. ‘No, my beloved Alfonz would never do such a thing,’ she uttered weakly. ‘I know it in my heart, for he loves me.’

The Travails of Lady Malvina by ORLANDO brOWNE

Alys’s hopes were not realized, for Lord Rayven began to frequent Harrogate only, it seemed, in order to seek her out and tease her.

Although she gave him no encouragement – indeed, she was reserved in manner to the point of rudeness – Lady Basset did all in her power to throw them together, contriving embarrassingly transparent reasons for leaving them alone.

‘Do you make a long stay in Harrogate, Miss Weston?’ Lord Rayven enquired one day as they strolled down the street together, Lady Basset having conjured up an imaginary item of shopping she must immediately obtain and requesting his lordship to walk on towards the green with Alys.

‘Two weeks only,’ she replied shortly. She had had perforce to take his arm, and was very conscious of the taut muscles beneath the coat of blue superfine – and also of the glances other ladies gave his tall, broad-shouldered and striking figure as they passed.

‘And do you think you will achieve your purpose in such a short time?’ He raised a dark brow. ‘That is confidence, indeed.’

Alys glanced up at him, frowning, although this did little to detract from the picture of innocent prettiness she presented in her simple sprigged muslin gown and chip straw bonnet.

‘Our purpose was to see if the waters would improve Lady Basset’s health, and I am happy to say that she does seem better. ’

‘But not your sole purpose, surely? You have several admirers in the town, and I am convinced that old Colonel Lamphlet is trying to fix his interest with you. He gave me such a glare at the Assembly Rooms yesterday that I was in dread of being called out for my audacity in engaging you in conversation.’

‘Lord Rayven, such talk as this may amuse my aunt, but it does not please me,’ Alys said forthrightly, tilting her square chin upwards so that she could look him directly in the face. ‘Colonel Lamphlet was merely being gallant, and I have no thought of marriage with him or anyone else.’

‘Then you are entirely singular among young ladies of my acquaintance.’

Singular, Alys thought, summed up her probable destiny more aptly than he imagined!

*

With all the delights on offer, the distraction of new acquaintance, and the unsought and alarming attentions of Lord Rayven, it was perhaps not surprising that the end of their short visit had just begun to beckon before Alys gave much thought to poor Letty’s situation.

Although Miss Grimshaw had bravely expressed her willingness to take on her duties while Alys enjoyed her treat, Alys knew she dreaded it.

Her soft voice irritated the major and she did not have the courage to keep any kind of control over the amount he drank, or the unsuitable foods he demanded, which would make him liverish and so lead to even more explosions of rage.

No, Alys guiltily feared Letty must be having a sad time of it, and remorsefully set out to describe at length her doings for her amusement, for other than a brief note dashed off assuring her of their safe arrival, including a description of Priory Chase, she had not written to her.

So much had happened that Alys found it hard to know where to begin, or quite how much to reveal. Sitting in her small bedchamber, she mended her pen and began:

Dear Letty,

I hope Papa is not proving too great a trial in my absence, but fear you will be having a very poor time of it. Do try to be firm: a hint of weakness and he will be overpoweringly odious.

The major often reminded Alys of a wolf circling an innocent lamb in his dealings with Letty: there was something so shiftily baleful in his gaze.

Still, she consoled herself that, while he might rend Letty limb from limb verbally, he was incapable of offering her much in the way of physical violence.

Our first week has flown by and the second is near half over. I told you of our visit to Priory Chase on our way here, did I not? But what do you think, we have now met the owner of the property himself, and he is as like any Gothic villain as you could imagine!

Indeed, as Malvina would say, ‘With a dark, intense gaze he caused a shadow to enter her soul and she shuddered, for she knew not what reason, only that she had taken an instant and unalterable dislike to the man who stood before her …’

Alys paused, reread the description, then noted the words down on another piece of paper before she forgot them, for there was no telling but that her letter might go astray. She continued:

I first caught sight of the new Lord Rayven across the promenade room in Low Harrogate, a new and exceedingly elegant building, whither we had repaired after our morning visit to the Sulphur Well.

( I was wearing the white muslin with the single flounce that you made for me, with new green satin ribbons, and it was much admired.)

The water smells like bad eggs and tastes disgusting.

I had only one tiny sip the first day, but Lady Basset insists on drinking a full glass every morning, though it near makes her sick.

The woman in charge of the well expects everyone to drink out of the same horn beaker, without even washing it between, but fortunately we had been warned, and I carried Lady Basset’s own glass with me in my reticule, wrapped in a clean handkerchief.

But I digress, for I was about to describe Lord Rayven to you.

Apart from one detail I need only tell you that he is exactly as I have described the villain, Raymundo, in my book.

I was so struck by this resemblance – his black-browed, swarthy appearance, his height and something care-for-nobody about his dress (although a scar running from the corner of one eye down his cheek is a striking difference) – that I am afraid I stared rudely and he caught me.

Alys blushed again in mortification even at the memory of that moment.

Oh, Letty, I was covered with shame! Up went those eyebrows and, fixing me with a piercing gaze from deep-set, dark blue eyes, he bowed slightly with a sardonic smile. Of course I looked away, quite hideously embarrassed.

I have already added that scar to Raymundo Ravegnac’s appearance, although presumably Lord Rayven won his honourably in some battle, for he only recently sold out of the army.

He also mentioned another cut to his arm, which is not healing so well, and I advised a cobweb poultice, which I am sure you will agree is the best remedy.

Some moments later, imagine my feelings when he had himself introduced to us! It threw Lady Basset into a perfect flutter.

I did not care for his manner, for something in his conversation and expression made me feel – like poor Malvina – rather uncomfortable. He looks to be somewhat less than thirty and I must admit that he is, if not handsome, very striking. I expect he looked even more so in his regimentals.

Lady Basset was so taken with him that she turned embarrassingly flirtatious, so that I knew not where to look.

Her manners leave much to be desired when away from home, especially when gentlemen are present, but at least the company is very mixed here in Harrogate, so that until this occasion I had felt no real need to blush for my relationship with her.

She spared Letty the more mortifying elements, such as the way her aunt tapped his lordship’s knuckles with her fan and giggled if he said anything that could be remotely construed as warm, and telling him that he was a ‘naughty creature’.

She tried to draw me into the conversation with his lordship, but I stayed quiet – you may be surprised to learn! – annoyed at having drawn his attention in the first place by my rude staring.

Lady Basset told him of our visit to Priory Chase.

He said he was sorry to have been absent for it, but then muttered something under his breath about ‘times changing since he was last in England’, and ‘abbesses bringing their wares to market’, that I could not understand: I do not think Priory Chase was ever a nunnery, was it?

Soon after I had given him my advice regarding the wound to his arm, to my infinite relief he bowed and walked off; but all the old tabbies of the town, including a crony of the rector’s wife, were agog.

I have since begged Lady Basset not to encourage the acquaintance in any way, but he now rides or drives into Harrogate every afternoon, so our paths must cross in such a small place.

Besides, he seems to delight in seeking me out and trying to tease a few words out of me, even though I give him no encouragement.

I dare say the tale will eventually reach Papa’s ears and I only hope he does not have an apoplexy for he would be averse to any man singling me out, and this is the very person he warned me to avoid.

Lady Basset is harbouring the ridiculous notion that his lordship has taken a fancy to me, but my belief is that he is piqued by my lack of interest in him, and amusing himself only.

Perhaps, too, after the excitements of army life, he finds being a mere viscount sadly flat!

He would be better off in learning to manage his newly inherited estates, for I am sure there must be much to occupy him there.

Lady Basset keeps me so busy here that I have had little time to write except in the late evenings when she has retired; but then, there will be time enough for those amusements when I am home, for once Papa hears of Lord Rayven I am convinced he will never let me out of his sight again.

By the way, I have also espied a veritable Adonis, an exceedingly handsome young man with guinea-gold hair and eyes of the purest cerulean blue, who will make the perfect hero, although unfortunately he remains unknown to me.

I saw him but once from afar, mounting into a post-chaise at one of the inns.

My aunt’s manners may not be all one could wish for, but her heart is good, and she has bestowed many gifts of stockings, gloves and other knick-knacks on me, with great kindness.

We visit the library daily, where such small purchases may be made, and I have laid out a little of my uncle’s gift in a present for you, as some small reward for keeping the ogre happy in his den in my absence.

But let its nature be a surprise until my return.

Lady Basset’s health seems greatly improved, and her colour is good. Whether that is the water, or merely a change of scene and company, I leave to you to decide.

I must go. She is calling me, for we are to make an excursion to Knaresborough to see the Dropping Well, with Mr Pullen and his granddaughter, Nell, who is near my own age.

I believe I mentioned them in my last note to you?

Nell and I have struck up a friendship, which, as you can imagine, has enhanced the happiness of my stay in Harrogate.

Your affectionate Alys

‘Alys!’ called Lady Basset again.

‘Coming, Aunt.’ She sealed the letter with a coloured wafer and put it into her reticule, then tied the strings of a chip bonnet freshly trimmed with pink roses and dove-grey satin ribbons into a jaunty bow under her chin and ran down the stairs.

She was looking forward eagerly to the excursion, for this was one day when she could enjoy herself without fear of Lord Rayven’s sardonic presence or his deep voice in her ear, drawling the sort of near-insolent remarks the responses to which she had not been taught by Miss Grimshaw.

Nell and Alys, under the indulgent eyes of their elders, were merry as grigs all the way to Knaresborough.