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"Miss Lens has done me a great service, Ma'am." Then as the Prince introduced her to his guests one after another, Vanessa suddenly saw Sir Julius Stone! She had not noticed him until she was presented to the lady standing next to him, and she rose from a curtsey to see his dark-arched, depraved eyes looking at her. Her heart gave a frightened leap, but she told herself that she had nothing to fear; the Marquis was there and Sir Julius could not harm her. "Sir Julius Stone," the Prince was saying, "Miss Vanessa Lens." "We have met before," Sir Julius said with an unpleasant note in his voice. Vanessa did not answer. She curtseyed perfunctorily but she did not look at him again, and the Prince introduced her to one of his Aides-de-Camp and a politician whose name she did not hear. "Now let us go in to dinner!" the Prince exclaimed and offered his arm to Mrs. Fitzherbert. However curious everyone might be as to why the Marquis had taken the Prince from the room before dinner, and why they had returned with Vanessa but without General Cornwall, it was impossible for anyone to ask questions while the long drawn-out meal took place. The Dining-Room was even more fantastic than Vanessa had expected: walled with silver and the ceiling supported by columns of red and yellow granite, it was like something out of the Arabian Nights. Course succeeded course on an endless service of gold and silver dishes and long before the dinner was even halfway through Vanessa knew that it would be impossible for her to eat any more. But she had not expected the conversation to be so general or so interesting. She had supposed that Royalty ate with great formality, with everyone talking in low voices, first to whoever was seated on their right and then on their left. The Prince talked down the table, beginning a conversation or breaking in on one as it suited him, and everyone followed his lead. Arguments were started from one side of the table to the other, and it seemed to Vanessa that she had never known that men could be so witty, so amusing, and at the same time so erudite. The Prince had a habit of introducing classical quotations, and he was never boring and yet there was no doubt that he stimulated the minds of everyone round him. It was obvious that tonight he was at his very best, not drinking too much and making an effort, the Marquis thought approvingly, to impress everyone with how much at ease he was, so that later they would be able to say: "But not for one moment would I have guessed that His Royal Highness had been told his life might be in danger!" Looking back later on the dinner, Vanessa thought there was no subject on which they had not touched: politics, Greek literature, music, books, and of course paintings kept the conversation flowing. But the impetus always seemed to come from the Prince of Wales, who, with a twist of phrase or a provocating opinion, managed to evoke a lively response from everyone sitting near him. It was nearly eleven o'clock before the ladies withdrew. "I am sorry to hear that your father is ill, Miss Lens," Mrs. Fitzherbert said as they moved into the Chinese Drawing-Boom. "You must give him my best wishes for a quick recovery." "I will do that, Ma'am, and thank you," Vanessa replied. "The Prince has often talked of asking your father to do a miniature of me," Mrs. Fitzherbert went on, "but somehow the idea has never materialised. When he is better we must certainly consider it again." "That will indeed be an inducement for my father's recovery," Vanessa said. "And do you yourself paint, Miss Lens?" Mrs. Fitzherbert enquired. "I help my father with the restoration of miniatures," Vanessa replied, "and sometimes ..." She paused. Mrs. Fitzherbert had moved her hand and Vanessa could see she was wealing a ring of which she had heard a great deal. Mrs. Fitzherbert followed the direction of her eyes. "You are looking at the eye of His Royal Highness, which Richard Cosway painted for me," she smiled. She drew the ring from her finger as she spoke and handed it to Vanessa. "I have always wanted to see this," Vanessa said. "It is very beautiful, Ma'am." "It was a clever idea, was it not?" Mrs. Fitzherbert replied. "I think it must have been in 1785 that Mr. Cosway suggested it to His Royal Highness." Vanessa was staring at the ring which Mrs. Fitzherbert had handed to her. Set in gold with a small circle of diamonds, it contained, instead of a precious stone in the centre, a miniature of the Prince of Wales's eye. It was brilliantly painted in Richard Cosway's inimitable manner, and it might, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |