He was standing at the little gate that separated the flowerbeds in front of his parents’ house from the cobblestones. His face looked pale and gaunt in the light of the gas lamps, though I thought it might have looked pale and gaunt tonight in any sort of lighting. Edmund Conway stood erect, like a man about to be summoned to his execution, and stared over at the coach. I knew exactly whom he was looking at: Ella and Wilkins. Judge and Executioner.
All of a sudden, pity welled up inside me for this young man. I had no idea where it was coming from. It certainly wasn’t usual for me to feel pity for any man, much less one who was conducting an illicit affair with my little sister in the back garden. But the feeling was there. And, as is always the case with these blasted feelings I have, it led to an impulsive action.
‘Mr Conway!’ I waved at him energetically, plastering a broad smile on my face. ‘How nice to see you. What brings you out at such a late hour?’
I had called quite loudly, loudly enough so neither he nor anyone else could ignore it. Hesitantly, he detached himself from the garden gate and came towards us.
‘I… was watching the stars,’ he said, his gaze fastening on Ella’s face.
I bet you were. Two particularly bright, blue stars, hmm?
‘What a happy coincidence you’re here,’ I proclaimed, before my aunt, who looked like she’d eaten a wagonload of lemons, could say otherwise. ‘I was just thinking about how we have an empty seat in our coach and how it would be a pity to waste it. We’re all going to a ball tonight. Have you heard about it? A grand affair at Lady Metcalf's. Would you like to come with us?’
I might as well have hit him in the head with an iron cudgel. The effect would have been similar to that of my words. Maybe it would even have been kinder.
The colour drained from his face and he staggered back a step.
‘C-come with you?’
‘Tosh! Lilly, how can you talk such nonsense?’ my aunt cut in. ‘It is not our coach, it is Sir Phillip's. You cannot simply invite this…’ She regarded Edmund with her nostrils. ‘…this young person into a carriage that does not belong to you.’
Sir Philip smiled brightly. ‘Oh, but I would be delighted to take Mr… What was your name again, Sir? I’m afraid we haven’t been properly introduced.’
‘Mr Conway, may I introduce you to Sir Philip Wilkins, a friend of the family,’ I said before anybody else could open their mouth. ‘Sir Philip, this is Edmund Conway, one of our neighbours.’
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr Conway.’ Sir Philip gave an awkward sitting bow. The flower in his buttonhole almost dropped out.
‘L-likewise, Sir Philip,’ Edmund mumbled and returned the bow stiffly.
‘As I was about to say,’ Sir Philip said to my aunt and me, smiling broadly, ‘I would be delighted to take Mr Conway. Lady Metcalf said I could bring as many friends as I wished, and such a charming young man would make an excellent addition to our party, don't you think?’
My aunt would have rather swallowed broken glass than admit that the son of a humble piano tuner could be charming company. But she also was not about to disagree with the only member of the nobility who was a potential nephew-in-law.
‘Mhm,’ she said, which left things pretty much open to interpretation.
‘What do you think, Miss Ella?’ Wilkins said, directing his smile at my little sister. ‘Don’t you think our friend here seems like charming company?’
Ella swallowed, hard. Her eyes met those of Edmund.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
That was all.
Just the one word - but it was sufficient.
Sir Philip clapped his hands. ‘Excellent. Get in, Mr Conway.’
‘But… but I…’
‘You don't have other plans, do you?’
‘No, I…’
‘Well, then, what are you waiting for? Let’s go and enjoy ourselves!’
~~*~~*
Let me say right now that on the ride to Lady Metcalf’s residence, Edmund didn’t look as though he were enjoying himself. He had mentioned once that it was one of his heart’s deepest desires to attend a ball with Ella, his love - but I guess in none of his fantasies had his rival, Ella’s probable future husband, sat with them in the coach.
I’m not an expert on romance, but I suppose something like that dampens the ardour of even the most determined Casanova.
‘Tell me, Mr Conway,’ Wilkins, who was completely oblivious to the icy silence in the coach, asked with a bright smile. ‘Where are your family’s estates?’
If he had wanted to pick a question to make the other young man despise him even more, he could not have chosen better.
‘My family does not have any estates,’ he said stiffly. ‘My father practices a trade.’
‘A trade? How interesting.’ Wilkins’ smile didn’t waver. ‘What kind of trade, exactly?’
‘My father is a piano tuner.’
A snort could be heard from the corner in which Maria sat. And for the first time in my life, I saw my sweet little sister Ella throw somebody a murderous look. Wilkins, for his part, continued his babbling, completely unaware of the icy stares he received. He seemed to be fascinated by the whole subject of piano tuning. Apparently, before tonight he had thought pianos just sounded the same all the time by themselves.
‘One never ceases to learn,’ he remarked. ‘Pianos seem to be like flowers, in a way. Flowers have to be taken care of regularly, too, or they shrivel.’
‘But, unlike pianos,’ Edmund pointed out, ‘flowers cannot make music.’
‘True, very true. A pity that is. If they could, they would be perfect.’
Ella sneaked a quick glance at Edmund, who was looking out of the window. ‘Nothing in this world is perfect,’ she said in a sad, quiet voice.
I thought she had hit the nail on the head with that. But Wilkins, the blasted son of a bachelor, leant forward, took her hand and pressed a light kiss on the back of it.
‘Apart from your beauty, fair lady,’ he said with a wink.
From the corner where Edmund sat, I heard a gagging noise. I was beginning to ask myself whether bringing him along had really been such an ingenious idea.
But when we drew up in front of Lady Metcalf’s house and climbed out of the carriage, and I saw Ella looking at him as if there was no other man in the world, I knew I couldn’t not have brought him along. From inside the house, I could hear the musicians try the first notes of music. On Ella’s face, I could read her emotions as plainly as if they were written in a book: she was at a ball, and Edmund was with her. If only he could come to her, take her in his arms and dance till the night turned into morning…
Setting his jaw, Edmund took a determined step towards her.
‘Ah, there you are, Miss Ella!’ Smiling broadly, Wilkins appeared at Ella’s right elbow, offering her his arm. ‘Shall we go in?’
Edmund stopped in his tracks.
Ella looked at her lover for a moment longer, then she wrenched her gaze away from his and faced the house again.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’
At the door to the ballroom, Lady Metcalf awaited us.
‘Sir Phillip,’ she trilled, clapping her pudgy hands together. ‘How wonderful to see you again!’ She didn’t mention that it was wonderful to see the rest of us. But then, considering that none of us was titled or rich, it probably wasn’t, for her.
Suddenly, I realized that Wilkins, busy with greeting Lady Metcalf, had had to let go of Ella’s arm. Quickly, I slipped in between them and took Ella’s hand with a firm grip. She looked up at me, a world of thanks shining in her eyes.
‘Please, come in.’ With a false smile directed at all of us, the lady of the house waved us towards the open door. ‘The first dance will start very soon, I believe.’
Sir Philip nodded and reached for Ella’s hand - only to find that it had, by instant-sister-transfer, been moved to a safe distance, along with the rest of her. Confused, he blinked up at us, standing three paces away, then smiled his guffin smile again and started towards us.
‘Please, Lilly,’ a hurried whisper shot out of Ella’s mouth. ‘Please don't leave me alone with him. I can’t explain why, right now, but I don't want to be alone with him. Please…’