He dismissed the foolish thought and picked up her cloak. She allowed him to drape it over her shoulders, and he almost begged her not to go. To stay with him. To choose him.
When she turned and smoothed her hands down the front of his shirt his body reacted predictably, growinghot and hard in her presence. The guileless, slightly shy smile she gave him made his chest ache.
“I’d much rather stay here with you,” she murmured. “But Ellie and Daisy are waiting.”
The cynical part of him had to admit that she was good. So utterly believable. He succumbed to the need to stroke his thumb along her jaw, and she tilted her face up, angling for a kiss.
He forced himself to step back. “Have fun.”
A flash of disappointment crossed her face, and he regretted not taking the kiss that was offered, but she turned and swept out the door before he could grab her back.
Justin strode into the study and pulled the bell rope for Simms.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Tess heard Vauxhall before she saw it. The distant sound of an orchestra and the occasional shout floated over the rooftops, and the golden glow of lights twinkled through the trees as the carriage rocked to a stop.
They paid the fee of one shilling and made their way along the dark, narrow passageway that was the entrance to the pleasure grounds. In a deliberatecoup de theatre, the tunnel opened up onto a dazzling vista, a brightly lit dreamworld that had delighted Londoners for over a century.
Thousands of oil lamps with colored-glass shades provided illumination, lit to the sound of a whistle at nine o’clock sharp every evening. Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they made their way past the rotunda, a circular building used as a concert venue in inclement weather, and entered the open area known as the Grove.
A marble statue of the composer Handel was positioned in a break in the vaulted colonnade that curved around three sides of the piazza, housing countless open-fronted supper boxes, like theater boxes, for those who wished to dine partlyalfresco.Each box was large enoughto seat six or eight guests, and they were identified not only by a number, but also by the unique painting that hung on the back walls.
Waiters in red coats served the notorious rack punch, along with cold ham, lobster salad, and all manner of other culinary delights. An orchestra played in an octagonal bandstand in the center, and a series of paths led off into the gardens beyond.
“It’s a good thing we arranged a specific spot to meet Stockdale,” Ellie murmured. “This place covers almost twelve acres. We’d never be able to find him otherwise.”
“It’s the perfect place for getting lost,” Daisy agreed with a sly smile. “Whether intentionally, or not.”
Tess had no doubt that it would look sad and neglected in the harsh light of day, but at night it was a magical place, the perfect setting for a thousand small dramas to unfold—intrigues and flirtations, love affairs and brawls. A palpable excitement filled the air, music and laughter, and people determined to enjoy themselves.
The Grand Walk, a wide boulevard with trees planted on either side, stretched before them, but Ellie steered them to the right, toward the Druid’s Walk and Lover’s Walk.
“Have you ever had your fortune told by the Hermit?” Daisy asked idly.
The Hermit—a wizened gentleman with a beard so long Tess had always assumed it to be fake—could be found within a rudimentary grotto, made from wood, pasteboard, and canvas, complete with views of a fantastical landscape and a bizarre interior ravine, into which the Hermit disappeared, only to reemerge with one’s fortune written on a cream parchment scroll.
“I have,” Ellie said. “Last year. It said I’d marry a mysterious stranger.”
“And mine said I’d meet my true match on a dark highway,” Daisy chuckled. “Perhaps I should take up highway robbery, to hurry things along?”
“I’m sure he writes them ahead of time and only personalizes them with your name once you’ve paid your sixpence,” Ellie said.
“Of course he does,” Tess agreed. “Mine said I’d receive undying fidelity from my husband.”
Daisy snorted. “That was definitely true of yourfirsthusband. But only because he didn’t have time to be unfaithful. Whether it’s true for your second remains to be seen.”
Tess’s heart gave a foolish little flutter. To have a man like Justin be hers forever sounded like an impossible dream. She should be happy with the few months they’d agreed. And yet a tiny spark of optimism persisted. Perhaps he would come to realize how good they could be together.
The crowds thinned as they ventured deeper into the grounds. A rush of people raced in the opposite direction to witness the balloon ascent, and by the time they reached their destination they hadn’t seen anyone for several minutes.
The Dark Walk was aptly named. Unlike the straight main thoroughfares, it consisted of a series of twisting, serpentine paths through the trees at the farthest edge of the gardens. It was a favorite place for furtive assignations.
The firework tower was accessible from several directions, ringed by a circle of trees. It was, in truth, less a tower and more a series of wooden battlements surrounding a small stage, like an empty open-air theater, a place from where the fireworks were launched.
The cheerful lanterns did not extend this far into the park. In the moonlight it seemed forlorn, almost eerie.
The pyrotechnic display was already over; the fireworks had provided an accompaniment for Madame Saqui, the famous tightrope artist, who’d run down an inclined rope suspended above one of the main walks. The distinctive scent of spent gunpowder still hung on the cool night air.
