The Virtuous Cyprian. Nicola Cornick

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СКАЧАТЬ and sore from the discomforts of her journey, picked up her shabby portmanteau and looked about her. There was no sign of her sister Susanna, despite the agreement that the two had to meet there.

      Lucille had found the journey from Oakham fascinating. She had travelled so little that each new view was a delight to her and each new acquaintance was a pleasure to meet. She now knew all about Miss Grafton, a governess about to take up a new position with a family in Ipswich, and Mr Burrows, a lawyer visiting a client in Orford. She had looked out of the coach window and admired the well-kept farmland that stretched as far and as flat as the eye could see, and had glimpsed the sea as they drew into the town.

      She struggled towards the inn door, her heavy case weighing her down. The smell of roast meat wafted enticingly from the kitchen and light spilled from the taproom onto the cobbles, accompanied by the sound of male voices and laughter. Lucille shrank. Although not of a timid disposition, she was too shy to march into the public bar and demand attention. The landlady found her cowering in the passageway.

      ‘I am looking for Miss Kellaway,’ Lucille said, a little shyly, and immediately saw an expression of mingled prurience, curiosity and disgust flit across the good lady’s features.

      ‘Miss Kellaway and the gentleman are in the private parlour,’ the landlady said, tight-lipped, nodding in the direction of a closed door at the end of the passage. She marched off to the kitchen, leaving Lucille alone.

      Lucille knocked a little hesitantly on the door of the parlour. She could hear the intimate murmur of voices, but no one answered her. She pushed the door open and recoiled, almost turning on her heel to run away. Susanna was reclining on the parlour sofa in much the same pose as she had held at the school, but with shocking differences. Her emerald green silk dress was cut very low and it had fallen off one shoulder completely, exposing one of Susanna’s plump breasts. A portly, florid man with thinning sandy hair was leaning over her, fondling her with impatient hands whilst his mouth trailed wet kisses over her shoulder. He looked up, met Lucille’s horrified gaze and straightened up, an unpleasantly challenging look in his eyes.

      ‘Egad, what’s this! My good woman—’

      Susanna pushed him away much as one might repel a fractious child. She hoisted her dress back up without the least embarrassment.

      ‘This is my sister, Eddie.’ She turned to Lucille, a frown marring her brow. ‘You’re monstrously late, Lucille! I had quite given up hope of you! We sail with the tide tomorrow morning, so there isn’t much time.’ She did not ask whether Lucille had had a good journey, or if she was hungry, nor did she invite her to sit down.

      ‘Now, my carriage will take you to Dillingham in the morning. I have left Felicity there—my housekeeper, Felicity Appleton,’ she added irritably, seeing Lucille’s look of incomprehension. ‘She will help you choose your clothes appropriately. I have left a large wardrobe at Dillingham, but Eddie will buy me more in Paris, won’t you, darling?’ She touched his hand and fluttered her lashes at him.

      The gentleman, whom Lucille assumed to be Sir Edwin Bolt, had been scrutinising her through his quizzing glass these few minutes past with what Lucille considered a most ill-bred regard. Now he guffawed.

      ‘Take more than a parcel of clothes, Susie m’dear! Why, the girl’s as strait-laced as a nun, and as cold, I’ll wager!’

      Lucille flushed and Susanna gave a flounce. ‘Well, she need not meet anyone in Dillingham! I am not asking her to be me!’ She saw his sulky, mulish expression and her tone softened. ‘But I do see what you mean, my love!’ She giggled girlishly. ‘I fear that my prim little twin will never thrill to a man’s touch! The delights of love are not for her!’

      Lucille was beginning to feel rather sick. An insight into Susanna’s relationship with her lover was something that repelled rather than interested her. Sir Edwin, mollified, had started to paw Susanna’s shoulder again as though he could not keep away from her. His hot, blue gaze roved lustfully over her opulent curves. The dress slipped a little.

      ‘Send the girl away so we may pick up where we left off,’ he muttered, pressing avid, open-mouthed kisses on Susanna’s white skin. Lucille looked away, her face flaming.

      ‘If that is all—’ she said, with constraint.

      Susanna had tilted her head back to facilitate the progress of Sir Edwin’s lips down her neck. He was already pulling at her dress again. She waved her sister away. ‘Very well, Luce—’ she sounded like someone dismissing her servant ‘—you may go now. Unless you wish to join us, that is!’

      Sir Edwin looked up, a lascivious look suddenly in his eye. ‘Now there’s an idea! Introduce the priggish virgin to fleshly delights, eh? What do you say, Miss Kellaway? Why, we could show you a thing or two…’

      Their mocking laughter followed Lucille from the room. She closed the door with exaggerated care and leant against the wall of the passage for a moment to recover herself. Her whole body was one burning blush, her mind revolted, a sick taste in her mouth. That Susanna should have sold herself for that, and not even appear to care…The stone wall was cool beneath her fingers and Lucille was glad of its chill and the darkness that surrounded her. As she straightened up, however, she realised to her horror that she was not alone. At the end of the passageway, hidden from view, two men were talking.

      ‘…travel on to Dillingham tomorrow. Do you go to the Yoxleys’ for a while?’

      It was a mellow voice, the cadences smooth and pleasing to the ear. Lucille paused, her attention arrested despite herself. The other man’s voice was less distinguishable.

      ‘…a sen’ night, perhaps…join you at the Court…A Seagrave…back at Dillingham, Nick…’

      From being overheated, Lucille suddenly found herself icily chill. Surely she could not have misheard? Had the man not mentioned the names of Seagrave and Dillingham? She dropped her portmanteau from nerveless fingers.

      The voices cut off abruptly at the crash. Lucille bent clumsily to pick her case up again, only to find that when she stood up her way was blocked by the tall figure of a man. The light was behind him and she could not see his face, but in the claustrophobically small passage, his physical presence was overwhelming.

      ‘Can I be of assistance, ma’am? Are you unwell?’ His voice was very pleasing to the ear, smooth and mellifluous, Lucille thought again, confused. His hand had taken her elbow in a steadying grip which nevertheless felt as though it burned through the fabric of her dress. She had not heard him speak on that infamous occasion when they had seen each other in Oakham, but she knew instinctively who he was.

      ‘No…’ Lucille’s voice came out as a thread of a whisper. She looked up into the dark face, into fierce, gold-flecked eyes, and felt quite dizzy. ‘I thank you, sir, I am quite well…Excuse me.’

      She had pushed past his astonished figure and was already halfway up the stairs before she realised that she had no notion of where she was going. She paused in dread, hoping that the gentleman would not follow her; a moment later, to her inexpressible relief, she heard a door close softly below. She sat down heavily on her portmanteau and almost cried. Had she been able to return to Oakham at that very moment she would not have hesitated. But Miss Pym had closed the school for the summer, and had gone to visit her good friend Fanny Burney for a few weeks. Lucille realised that she had nowhere to go except Cookes. She leant her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

      ‘Whatever is it, miss? You look proper moped and no mistake!’ The landlady’s judgmental tone had softened as she considered СКАЧАТЬ