‘Why? Did you tell him?’
‘Not me. Lord Trevellyan. Why did the man have to interfere? As a result I am being sent to England—Oxford, to be precise—where I’m to read history for the next three years. How appalling is that?—although I suppose the fact that Julian is to come with me will alleviate the misery,’ he said miserably.
Marietta stared at him in disbelief. Knowing she was to lose two of her best friends was devastating. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she already knew her friend Emma was to leave for Europe, to be finished off at some school or other. To lose all three would bring such a big change to her life that she couldn’t bear to think about it.
‘Surely not! I’m sorry, Oliver. I shall miss you—both of you—and Emma. Things won’t be the same without you.’
‘Did Lord Trevellyan tell your father about—you know?’
‘No. He threatened to, but I’m relieved he didn’t.’
Their conversation was observed by Oliver’s mother, whose whole life had been scrupulously and religiously dedicated to the precepts of convention and keeping up position, and maintaining her dignity. She was shocked by Marietta’s behaviour and the unacceptable influence she had on Oliver, which was one of the reasons why she had persuaded her husband to send their son to England.
‘I have to say, Mildred, that that young lady’s manners are an outrage, her conduct reprehensible. She is a wilful hoyden who must be the despair of her father and an embarrassment.’
‘Be that as it may, but it is just high spirits and she has such a sweet disposition,’ said fairminded Mrs Mildred Beaumont, ‘and that dress is exceedingly becoming on such a young girl.’
‘Handsome is as handsome does,’ snorted Mrs Schofield, her displeasure concerning Marietta deepening when she saw her practically dragging Oliver on to the dance floor where they proceeded to dance a lively polka. She was also annoyed that her good friend did not appear to agree with her over Marietta’s shocking conduct. ‘Do you know what my maid told me tonight as I was dressing? She told me that Monty Westwood is thinking of engaging a teacher to instruct his daughter to speak Chinese. Did you ever hear of such a thing?’
Mrs Beaumont was startled out of her customary calm. She said incredulously, ‘Learn Chinese? You must be mistaken. No lady would do such a thing. Besides, I doubt Mr Westwood will be able to find anyone to teach her since the Chinese consider us all barbarians.’
‘I assure you it is true.’ Mrs Schofield’s attention was diverted from this fascinating topic by the arrival of Lord Trevellyan and his charming wife.
Marietta’s attention was also captured by the arrival of Lord Trevellyan and his wife. Observing them enter the room as she was being spun around at a maddening pace by her partner, forgetting to hop when she should have, she gazed with something like awe at Lady Trevellyan. Wearing a shadowy smile, tall and slender in woven green silk, her gown decorated with silver thread and seed pearls, she really did look quite splendid and Marietta’s wasn’t the only gaze that was drawn to her.
As her husband escorted her into the centre of the room, she did not glance to left or right. Her figure swayed as if the very air that surrounded her set it in motion. Her hands were gloved in dove grey, her grave, charming face held to one side. There was warmth, but little colour, in her cheeks and her eyes, large dark eyes, were soft, her lips sensitive and sweet. There was something inexplicably dainty and fragile about her and the look on her face was as though she had come into contact with a force too strong for her—her husband, perhaps? Marietta wondered cynically. She watched Nadine say something quietly to her husband. Whatever it was she said, his long mouth curled with derision.
With the festivities in full flow and the reception rooms full to overflowing, Marietta danced with her friends and dashing young officers until her feet ached and smiled so much she thought her face would crack. Feeling somewhat downhearted that she was about to be deserted by her three closest friends, she headed for a door that led to a veranda where, hopefully, she could be by herself to collect her thoughts.
She smiled to herself as she watched her father socialising. It wasn’t too long ago when he had been invited everywhere and treated as someone of importance, but things had changed. Now the gentlemen conversed and laughed with him, but of late she’d noted a hint of reserve in their manner towards him. Perhaps she was imagining it, but for some unknown reason she didn’t think so and it was beginning to worry her. She was also concerned because he didn’t look too well tonight. He looked tired, his face was flushed and his eyes over-bright. She hoped the evening wouldn’t be too taxing for him.
Lady Trevellyan was in deep conversation with Teddy by the door, talking low-voiced. The lace on her white shoulders stirred with the soft rise and fall of her bosom. While they were smiling at one another, Lord Trevellyan suddenly appeared behind his wife and said something, at which Teddy stepped out of the room.
Thinking nothing of it, Marietta slipped out on to the veranda. The sky was bright with flares and rockets and Catherine wheels. She was relieved to find she was the only one there, but her solitude was to be short lived.
Minutes later, stepping out on to the veranda, Lord Trevellyan strolled towards the young woman leaning on the balustrade with her small chin propped upon her palms, gazing at the harbour lights and the rockets soaring into the night sky leaving a blaze of colourful sparks in their wake. The moon shone and the sea shimmered—there couldn’t have been a more romantic setting.
Hearing a step behind her, Marietta turned and looked at Lord Trevellyan, unable to explain why her heart suddenly did a somersault at the sight of him. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, turning back to the wonderful panoramic view spread out before her.
‘So this is where you’re hiding. I was beginning to think a dragon had carried you off.’
Marietta’s heart skipped another beat. ‘Why? Were you looking for me?’ she asked, hoping this was so.
‘No, but I did see you leave the party and thought you might have gone home when you didn’t return.’
‘I’m amazed that you thought of me at all, and I’m not hiding. It was so stifling inside. I wanted some air.’
‘I couldn’t agree more. Would you mind if I stayed out here with you a while?’ he asked, perching his hip on the balustrade and looking down at her, with none of the anger of their recent encounters. She wore her hair loose, the weight of it rippling about her shoulders like a rich silken cloud. She really was quite refreshing, not at all overawed as many of the women were when he spoke to them.
Marietta’s senses went into instant overload at his nearness. His voice sounded as dark and sultry as the night. With a faint scent of his familiar cologne wafting over her, he loomed tall, as indomitable as the hills on which Hong Kong was built.
‘No, of course not,’ she said in answer to his request. ‘The veranda’s for everyone and the view is quite splendid, don’t you think? It’s also the perfect spot from which to watch the fireworks.’
‘It certainly is. It’s a rare display.’
‘I cannot understand why, when the Chinese are so thrifty, they spend a tremendous amount of money on something that is so short lived and soon forgotten.’
‘Ah, but they will be remembered by many—along with the noise they make. Some of them are quite deafening. This night, the first of the year of the dragon, will be remembered for its festivities. Without the fireworks and the cymbals and the gongs to frighten away evil spirits, it would not be the same. And what has caught your interest?’ he asked as she leaned forwards and looked down.
‘If you must know, a rather long orange-and-purple caterpillar that’s just crawled along the street below. It had huge blue eyes and wobbly feelers with knobs on the end. I was wondering …’ she sighed almost wistfully ‘… how many people were inside it and if they talk to each other as they go along.’
‘I