“Mr. Ellington, how pleasant to see you here.” She dropped a curtsey, averting her eyes. Her heart was thumping. She was both nervous and excited.
“Lady Hestony,” he murmured. His eyes lingered on her in a way that made her blush. “It is a pleasure to see you here, indeed.”
Hestony smiled. “Flattery will probably get you far,” she teased., “but I have to resist it as best I can.”
“It was not flattering,” Hal said, and he did not smile. “I spoke the truth.”
Hestony looked at the floor, too moved to speak. “Oh, Hal,” was all she could think to say.
“Come…we have so many lovely things to eat and drink, and a grand choice of musicians…somebody very clever had a hand in organizing this, it would seem…?”
Hestony flapped a hand at him. “Now that was flattery, Mr. Ellington. But I am not about to tell you it was not also very gratifying.”
He laughed. “I’m glad. But it’s also true. You and Emilia have outdone yourselves. I never knew Luke to organize such fine parties alone, that I can tell you.” He laughed.
Luke seemed to have had a reputation as a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, at least that was how it seemed to Hestony. Emilia had certainly seen to it that the house was becoming a center of the local gentry – the ballroom was full of people from all over the region, and the musicians played beautiful music that could have been played anywhere in London. Modish and melodious, it set the scene, which was already glittering and lovely.
“It’s a beautiful place,” she murmured to Hal, who passed her a glass of lemon cordial. She sipped it delicately, looking up at the walls, which met the molded ceiling in beautiful designs of fruit and flowers, all carved out of the plaster. The designs were picked out in gold paint further down, and the columns themselves were marble-faced. The floor was inlaid with marble, too, and shone in the reflected light of fifty long-burning candles. It was lit up beautifully inside, and seemed enchanted to Hestony.
“This room is beautiful,” Hal agreed. “But have you seen the water-garden? It’s so beautiful at this time of evening. Really, I think Cousin Luke ought to be most proud of the place.”
“The water-garden?” Hestony whispered. The idea of sneaking out at night with Hal was almost too good to be true. She knew it would be frowned on. Her mother was busy talking to her own group of friends, and it looked like she was too occupied to try to curb Hestony’s adventurousness. She nodded.
“Yes,” Hal whispered, and from the look in his eyes she could guess that he was thinking very much what she was thinking. “Would you care to? Visit it, I mean?”
“Now?” Hestony whispered.
“It does look better at night,” Hal allowed.
Hestony flushed. The thought of sneaking out into the gardens was so exciting! She could hardly believe he offered, but at the same time she couldn’t let such a wonderful opportunity pass.
“Let’s do that.”
Hal grinned. He looked round the hall and she thought that he looked exactly how she felt – like a child about to do something very naughty.
He took her hand, and as the musicians started to play dance music, they slipped out into the garden.
Hestony breathed in the scent of dew. She tiptoed over the grass and felt the damp on the sides of her silk dance shoes. She stopped for a moment, trying to keep to the stone pathway, and Hal took her hand, thinking she needed steadying.
“Are you alright?” he whispered.
Hestony turned and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
He smiled. “The stones are slippery, at night. I do not want to risk you falling.”
“You’re so caring,” she whispered.
He stepped around to face her. “I would do anything to make sure you are safe.”
Hestony felt her throat tighten. She blinked away a tear. “Oh, Hal,” she whispered. “I am so lucky.”
“Nonsense,” he dismissed.
She giggled.
“Now,” he added in a whisper, “shall we go and see these gardens? I believe it’s this way. I think I can hear the fountain.”
Hestony nodded and they tiptoed together down the path.
At night, with Hal, the gardens were another world. Shades of blue and black mixed together with the glossy shine of candlelight spilling from the house onto the lawns, rendering them into a world of wonder, where anything could happen.
“Here,” he whispered. “We’re almost there, and…there!”
He pointed dramatically. Hestony stared. Stretched out in front of them was a vast expanse of water – she guessed it must be about twenty feet across – and into that sprayed a fountain in such mist-fine drops that their landing was the most delicate tinkle of sound, like tiny bells. In the dark, the water was sheened with silver. It was magical, a thing of spells and wonder.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Hestony turned as she felt Hal’s warm presence by her shoulder. His hand was in hers and she found herself unable to breathe. Here in the quiet gardens, there was nobody to see them or to tell them they could not do as they wished.
Hestony felt him move from behind her, his hand slipping from hers, and she looked up into his eyes. He looked down into her eyes and her heart started to thump.
His lips descended on hers tenderly. She closed her eyes, letting her body press against him, his arms so strong where they held her against his chest. She felt her eyes close and she focused on the feeling of his mouth, gently exploring hers. His tongue was in between her lips, and she surprised herself by feeling no shock, only the longing that they could do this forever.
He stood back, sighing. Her eyes were open, and she stared into his. Blue and wide, he looked a little wild.
“Hestony,” he whispered. “We should not…I don’t wish to…to disgrace you. I think you know what I mean?”
She frowned, not sure at first. Then words she’d heard from servants – casual phrases dropped both by them and by her friends – started to make sense. The feeling she had inside her, and the things she longed for without entirely knowing their form, were for people bound in matrimony.
“Should we go back?” she suggested.
He smiled, his grin a beautiful thing, a little crazy, just like she felt. “I wish we wouldn’t.” He chuckled. “But we should. We will be missed. And I do not want to do you harm.”
“You never could,” she whispered.
As they walked back through the silent, cool grounds, the music of the fountain still in their ears, she wondered if she should mention to him the rider she had seen, and how it had made her feel. She would have forgotten about him, except for the fact that, the afternoon before yesterday, she had seen him again. Or thought she had.