Page 69 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
“Well then,” said George, “we must have another flagon while you set me on the right course.”
They ordered more ale, and Peter sipped slowly, composing his thoughts.
“Er, Peter old boy?” said George. “I await your tale.”
“Her name is Madeline,” said Peter.
“Oh, shehasa name, does she?”
“Let me finish.LadyMadeline.”
“Ah, the story takes a turn!”
Peter smiled. “She is like no other. She has a sweetness about her that I heretofore could not abide in any woman. Now, I feel I am quite entranced by it. There is very much the adventure tale about what I am going to relate, but I feel you ought to know the entire story, old horse. Firstly, I lied about my being entrenched in Father’s business.”
“You dastardly man!” said George, his voice breaking off into laughter.
“Yes, dastardly indeed.”
Lord Peter told the story from start to finish, from his wandering off from the hunting party to his orchestration of Lady Madeline’s rescue. When he was through, several pints of ale had been consumed, and all mirth had been replaced by drunken solemnity.
“So,” said Peter, “I am enthralled by her, I must say.”
George sneered at him. “You, my old friend, have been caught in a vicious snare.”
“Indeed?”
“Quite. Look around you ...” He swept his arm around to reveal the entire tavern, which now swarmed with revelers. “You belong here amongst the drinkers and those who enjoy life, not locked up in somemarriage.” He spat the word like a cherry pit. “There are so many delicacies in this very room, Peter, and that is but a sample of the whole at large. You cannot think that settling for some Earl’s daughter is any match for enjoying such delicacies. Surely, you cannot.”
Peter looked around the room. Yes, there were many pretty faces, and yes, they were singing and drinking. One of them caught his eye. He raised his flagon to her and smiled. She returned it.
The ale had worked its spell on his thoughts, for he was now not as conflicted as when he first sat down.
George was right, good old horse.
He couldn’t give this up, not for any Earl’s daughter.
Chapter 51
Madeline and Oliver disembarked from the boat that had ferried them across the Thames. It was a beautiful, crisp evening. The sun had just gone down, leaving a purple, cloudless sky behind.
She stopped and closed her eyes, listening intently to the wonderful music, delicate and distant, that came from Vauxhall Gardens.
She’d been pleasantly surprised when, upon her first day out of bed, Lord Oliver had called on her to tell her he’d be taking her here as soon as she was ready to venture out. She was ready, and had been, in fact, even before her full recovery.
Lisbelle kept behind them at a respectable distance, with Giles, the first footman, at her side as they ascended the stairs to Vauxhall Row. Here there were shops and stalls that catered to every decent whim of the spirit and flesh.
However, they wanted to waste no time, as the brochure they’d picked up before their departure promised an appearance of the world-famous rope dancer, Madame Saqui. They turned right onto the Great Walk, mesmerised by the sights, sounds, and smells of the place.
“Look at that smile on your face,” said Lord Oliver, “By the appearance of it, one would swear this was the gateway to paradise itself.”
“I haven’t been here since I was a girl,” said Madeline. “It’s more glorious than ever. ’Tis the finest pleasure gardens in all of England.”
Oliver chuckled. “You sound like a brochure.”
“Then let it be so. I am at a loss for words. Smell the filberts roasting! Oh, let’s get some, Oliver.”
“As you wish. What about ...?” He nodded his head in the direction of Lisbelle and Giles.
