Page 44 of To Steal a Kiss

“My grandson, the earl,” he said, shaking his head and looking proud as punch. “Now, that would be something.”

Alice’s stomach churned with the strong desire to lose her lunch. Never mind the fact her parents were blithely killing off the rest of the family, begetting an heir with Edgar Bindley? Please, God, no. Anything but that. She’d long since decided one thing: ruination was far more attractive than a life with Mr Bindley.

“Perhaps he’ll be there tonight,” she said in a rush, too desperate to get out of the house and away from this appalling conversation to consider the fact she was manipulating their ambitions to her own ends. Any chance of seeing Mr Bindley again was to be avoided at all costs in her opinion, but they didn’t know that. They were too caught up in their own daydreams and ambitions to consider for a moment she might not be of the same mind.

“She does have a point,” her mother said, casting Alice a sly smile of approval that made her stomach turn over again. “If he’s there and she’s not, he might find another young lady to fix his interest with.”

This argument seemed to weigh on her father’s mind and he heaved a heavy sigh. “Oh, very well, then. Never let it be said I stood in the way of my daughter’s dreams.”

Alice almost gaped at the man. Her dreams? When had he ever asked her what her dreams were? When had he ever asked if she liked or esteemed Mr Bindley, let alone if she felt any desire to spend the rest of her days with him? Nonetheless, she had achieved her aim and so she swallowed down the bitterness in her mouth and forced something resembling a smile to her face.

“Thank you, Papa,” she said, and hurried away to get ready.

Chapter 14

I’m so looking forward to Vauxhall Gardens. Mama has bought me a lovely new gown in a splendid bronze colour, and I am to accompany Bedwin’s sister, Lady Helena. She’s such a comical thing, and not a bit high in the instep as you might imagine of a duke’s sister.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Minerva Butler to Miss Kitty Connolly.

The evening of the 26th June 1814. Vauxhall Gardens, Lambeth.

A great deal of screeching and shrill cries of distress rent the air as the Dowding family’s hired boat and a half dozen others approached the shallower waters at the edge of the Thames. The boats knocked together in their bid to reach the shore as watermen leapt forward, grabbing hold of the wherries and hauling them towards the banks. Ladies squealed and grabbed at their hats as the boats pitched and lurched. Alice gasped and took hold of the boat itself as the filthy water of the Thames lapped high up the sides. It had been rather lovely during the crossing on a beautiful summer’s evening, but less so when one considered being tipped in head first. Still, they were here, thank goodness.

Alice picked up the skirts of her dress and stepped carefully from the wherry as it swayed beneath her. Duck boards covered the filth and reek at the banks of the Thames, and she stepped with care on the slippery wood, picking her way in her satin slippers. It was a relief to be on solid ground again. The boat had seemed a slender thing to her eye, and low in the water once loaded with her well-sprung father, her mother, and several other guests. The watermen seemed blithely unconcerned, however, and so she’d tried to trust in their confidence and enjoy the experience.

Indeed, it was a lovely evening, the sun just setting and glinting in coral colours upon the dark waters of the Thames. The huge façade of the proprietor’s house greeted them, belonging to the urbane and compelling Mr Jonathan Tyers. Flaming torches lined the path from the water gate to the entrance. On exiting the building on the far side, it was like stepping into the colourful environs of a dream.

Vauxhall was lit up, a romantic and exotic setting, akin to entering the land of the fae.

Music was audible, drifting on the warm evening air, and Alice experienced a little shiver of excitement. She would see Nate tonight. This was what lovers did, arranged illicit rendezvous and used any excuse to meet in secret. That she had a lover seemed extraordinary and improbable, and only added to the dreamlike feel of the evening.

The gardens themselves were vast and Alice felt her fist twinge of anxiety at seeing just how expansive they were. Thank heavens she’d planned to meet Matilda and Nate by the cascade, for there would be little chance of stumbling upon them by accident.

There were a variety of walks to take around the gardens, all of them brilliantly lit by variegated coloured lamps. This gave the walks and gardens themselves an enchanting sweep of stained glass-like shadows that delicately painted all of those who walked beneath them.

They first made their way in the direction of the music, and the incredible sight that greeted her delighted Alice: a building of such fanciful design it looked like the sugar icing on a bride cake. It took the form of a temple, built on several levels and decorated with colourful paint and ornate spires. There were balconies where the orchestra sat in semicircles to face the audience. On the largest balcony was a huge organ, the silver pipes glinting in the lamplight. Ladies and gentlemen in all their finery stood before them, listening to the music and chatting, milling about and greeting acquaintances.

“Alice!”

Alice turned and beamed with delight to see Harriet and Kitty hurrying towards her. Greeting her friends, she was pleased to see that the two women seemed to have decided to further their friendship before their trip to the St Clair estate later in the summer.

“Isn’t it enchanting?” Kitty said, staring about her wide-eyed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Have you never been here before?” Alice asked in surprise.

Kitty shook her head. “Never. Harriet asked me to come and I nearly snapped her hand off,” she said, grinning.

Alice smiled at her enthusiasm, more so as she could see that Harriet was enjoying Kitty’s excitement too.

“Harry, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

They turned as a man approached and Harriet nodded. “Of course,” she said as the man stood at her side, grinning.

It was apparent at once that this must be her brother. They were alike and yet quite obviously different. Harriet, who was always a rather serious and even stern presence, was the opposite of the man beside her. He beamed at Alice, hazel eyes alight with good humour and mischief as Harriet presented him.

“Alice this is my brother, Henry Stanhope. Henry, my friend, Miss Alice Dowding.”

“Charmed,” Henry said, beaming at her.