A Dangerous Flirtation E-Book

Laura Jean Libbey

• Herausgeber: Laura Jean Libbey
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Three young girls, as fair as youth and beauty could make them, stood with arms twined about one another on the sands of Newport one hot August afternoon.Neither of the trio could have been over seventeen. All three were dressed in white, and looked as delightfully cool, sweet and airy, with their floating white ribbons and wind-blown curls, as summer maidens can possibly look."If I were an artist, I would immortalize that glorious scene," cried Lily Ryder, her blue eyes sparkling with the fire of enthusiasm."And if I were an artist, I would paint you," cried a handsome, fair-haired young man sotto voce, who had stopped short in his stroll along the sands with his friend, to admire the three lovely young girls, feeling sure that his keen scrutiny would not be observed, they were gazing so intently out to sea."Who are they, Ravenswood?" he asked, eagerly, turning to his companion. "You know everyone at Newport worth knowing, of course—'a golden key throws open all doors.'""Oh, of course," echoed Philip Ravenswood, with the slow drawl habitual to him. "They are called at Newport 'The Three Graces.' The blonde fairy to the right is Lily Ryder, an ex-governor's daughter. The bewitching girl in the center of the group is Miss Hildegarde Cramer, a banker's daughter; and, by the way, she's one of the jolliest girls that ever dazzled a fellow's wits as well as his eyes—looks more bewitching every time you see her."

Leseprobe

Laura Jean Libbey

A Dangerous Flirtation

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Table of contents

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXII.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER XXV.

CHAPTER XXVI.

CHAPTER XXVII.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CHAPTER XXX.

CHAPTER XXXI.

CHAPTER XXXII.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CHAPTER XXXV.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

CHAPTER XL.

CHAPTER XLI.

CHAPTER XLII.

CHAPTER XLIII.

CHAPTER XLIV.

CHAPTER XLV.

CHAPTER XLVI.

CHAPTER XLVII.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

CHAPTER XLIX.

CHAPTER L.

CHAPTER LI.

CHAPTER LII.

CHAPTER LIII.

CHAPTER LIV.

CHAPTER LV.

CHAPTER LVI.

CHAPTER LVII.

CHAPTER LVIII.

CHAPTER LIX.

CHAPTER LX.

CHAPTER I.

Three young girls, as fair as youth and beauty could make them, stood with arms twined about one another on the sands of Newport one hot August afternoon.Neither of the trio could have been over seventeen. All three were dressed in white, and looked as delightfully cool, sweet and airy, with their floating white ribbons and wind-blown curls, as summer maidens can possibly look."If I were an artist, I would immortalize that glorious scene," cried Lily Ryder, her blue eyes sparkling with the fire of enthusiasm."And if I were an artist, I would paint you," cried a handsome, fair-haired young man sotto voce, who had stopped short in his stroll along the sands with his friend, to admire the three lovely young girls, feeling sure that his keen scrutiny would not be observed, they were gazing so intently out to sea."Who are they, Ravenswood?" he asked, eagerly, turning to his companion. "You know everyone at Newport worth knowing, of course—'a golden key throws open all doors.'""Oh, of course," echoed Philip Ravenswood, with the slow drawl habitual to him. "They are called at Newport 'The Three Graces.' The blonde fairy to the right is Lily Ryder, an ex-governor's daughter. The bewitching girl in the center of the group is Miss Hildegarde Cramer, a banker's daughter; and, by the way, she's one of the jolliest girls that ever dazzled a fellow's wits as well as his eyes—looks more bewitching every time you see her.""But who is the other young girl?" interrupted his companion, impatiently. "According to my ideas of feminine loveliness, she's far the prettiest of the three.""Hold on, my dear Royal Ainsley, lest you provoke a duel here and now. Remember, that trio contains the peerless Hildegarde," laughed Philip Ravenswood, relighting a fresh Havana."All allowance made for difference of opinion," smiled Ainsley; "but really, Phil, who is the dark-eyed beauty this way?"Little dreaming of what would come of those few idly spoken words, Philip Ravenswood answered, carelessly:"Her name is Ida May. She's the only living relative of the Mays of Boston, I understand. I do not know the Mays personally, but know them well by reputation. They are fabulously rich, it is generally believed.""Suppose you introduce me to the Three Graces," said Royal Ainsley, banteringly.His companion flushed, and looked a trifle uncomfortable."At another time, my dear fellow," he said, answering Ainsley's question after a moment's pause. "Let the girls enjoy their rhapsodies over the sunset in peace this time. We really haven't time just now. The fellows are waiting for us at the club, you know."But Ainsley refused to go on; yet he did it in such a gay, off-hand, rollicking, fun-loving fashion, his friend did not see the fixed purpose in his action.He was quite sure that if they stood there long enough they could not help attracting the attention of the pretty maidens, and there was no time like the present to meet them. In this surmise, he was quite correct. Attracted by the sound of voices almost behind them, Miss Ryder glanced around."Hildegarde—Ida!" she exclaimed, in a flutter of delighted surprise, "why, here is Mr. Ravenswood!"She stopped short, for just then she observed that the handsome young gentleman in the white linen suit, standing a little apart from Mr. Ravenswood, was with him.It was too late to beat a retreat then, for he had been discovered. He was certainly in for it, and there was no help for it but to bring his companion forward with the best possible grace and present him to the young ladies.Ainsley bowed low in his most charming manner, raising, with a smile, his white straw hat from his fair, clustering hair, and Philip Ravenswood could see, with consternation, the apparent admiration for his friend on all three girlish faces, including Hildegarde, whom he had believed to be quite smitten with himself.Royal Ainsley made the most of that next half hour on the sands. He was so brilliant, so witty, so clever, he fairly astonished his friend, used as he was to his gay bon-mots and to see him the life of all the affairs at the club.They chatted brightly enough, until Hildegarde exclaimed, with a little cry:"Why, there is some bell striking seven! We have been here over an hour. We must get back to the hotel, girls, or we will never be dressed for dinner. Won't you stroll back that way with us?" she added, with a dazzling smile to both of the young gentlemen."I think not," replied Ainsley, quickly, taking it upon himself to answer for his friend. "We have an engagement, and have barely time to save ourselves from being the annoying cause of giving our friends a cold dinner.""We hope to see you both soon again," said Lily, with another blush."We do, indeed!" echoed Hildegarde, archly. But the girl with the velvet pansy eyes made no audible remark, though her crimson lips parted, then shut quickly again.The next moment the two gentlemen were gone, and the three young girls retraced their steps slowly hotelward along the beach. They had a much pleasanter subject to discuss now than the sunset."Isn't the new-comer handsome?" remarked Lily."Splendid! but not quite as Phil, though."Again they both asked together:"What say you, Ida?"The girl with cheeks like a damask rose and velvety pansy eyes blushed to the roots of her jetty curls."He is like the hero of a novel. I have never seen any one so handsome before—so fair, so smiling—so—so—delightful," she answered."Ida May's heart has been hit by the first shot of those arrows of blue eyes," laughed Lily, mockingly. "I knew when she declared that, come what would, she would not fall in love with any young man she met at Newport, she was more than likely to meet her fate."

CHAPTER II.

For some moments the two young men walked on in silence, which was at last broken by Ainsley.

"I say, Phil," he began, eagerly, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder, "do you think any one of those three beauties would accept an invitation to go down and see the yacht-race with me to-morrow afternoon?"

Ravenswood looked shocked.

"You are surely jesting to ask my opinion as to whether any one of those young girls would accompany a stranger to a place of amusement. You certainly know, as well as I do, that they wouldn't entertain such a thought for an instant. And even suppose they did? Their parents would soon let you know what they thought on the subject. Like all sweet rosebuds, they are guarded by thorns. A very stern duenna usually accompanies them on their afternoon rambles, and woe to anything masculine who attempts to hold a few moments' conversation with any one of them. I confess I was surprised to find them alone to-day—very much surprised, I must say."

"Fate interposed in my behalf," laughed Ainsley, nonchalantly; adding: "I tell you, Phil, I am a strong believer in fate, no matter what any one says to the contrary, believing with the poet—everything is preordained, planned out ahead for us, and we can not escape it. We are to meet certain people. One girl makes no impression upon us whatever, no matter how pretty she may be; we meet another, and lo! with the first glance from her eyes, the mischief's done—we are done for. Now, am I not correct?"

"I hope you have not made such a fool of yourself as to fall in love at first sight with any one of those young ladies to whom I was mad enough to introduce you, Ainsley!" cried Ravenswood, very much nettled.

"And why not, pray?" returned Royal Ainsley, coolly. "You should blame fate if I have done so, not me, my dear fellow."

"I am sorry for you, Ainsley, if such is indeed a fact," declared Philip Ravenswood, gravely, "for I do not think you could win the girl. Plainly speaking, you are no match for either of them. You know that. But which one of them is it?"

"The one with the pansy velvet dark eyes—with the face of a damask rose—Ida May, I believe you called her."

Ravenswood looked wonderfully relieved. As long as it was not Hildegarde, he would not trouble himself.

"By George!" exclaimed Ainsley, stopping short, "I believe those three young girls ride the bicycle. Now that I think of it, I'm sure I saw them whirl past the club yesterday morning. They wore natty navy blue suits and blue veils. I couldn't see what their faces were like. Two elderly gentlemen accompanied them."

"Yes, they ride the wheel," assented Ravenswood, reluctantly. "The two gentlemen were Mr. Ryder and Mr. Cramer, who are very enthusiastic over the sport. There's a millionaire's club of wheelmen here at Newport."

"I presume they will be at the fancy masquerade cycle tournament next week, then?" said Ainsley, carelessly, though he listened anxiously for the reply.

"No doubt," returned Ravenswood. "They were all at the last one. By the way, it's a very select affair. One has to be a member of the club, or have considerable outside influence, to secure tickets."

"Are you a member?" asked Ainsley, quickly.

"Yes," returned Ravenswood. "It was Hildegarde's father who proposed my name. I did not get even one black ball, and was consequently voted a member."

"Do you suppose, if you had been a poor devil of a clerk, instead of a millionaire's son, you would have been voted in?" asked Ainsley, a trifle bitterly, a hard light flashing into his eyes.

"Possibly not," replied Ravenswood, with a good-humored laugh.

"I should have thought you would have improved the opportunity of seeing considerable of the Three Graces awheel," said Ainsley, after a few moments' pause.

"Their fathers discourage anything of that kind," laughed Philip; "as more than one young man has found out."

"But Miss May's relatives—do none of them ride?"

"They are too old for that sort of thing," laughed Ravenswood. "The old gentleman is as deaf as a post, and is relegated to the hotel piazza because of the gout. His wife is equally as deaf, and is too unwieldly to venture far from her corner of the piazza. It is laughable to hear them shout at each other through their ear-trumpets. I have often thought what a lonely life of it that beautiful young girl must have with those two old people. It would be unendurable, I fancy, if it were not for her two young friends."

"Probably they make up for not being companionable by not being so strict with their pretty prospective little heiress?" suggested Ainsley, again listening eagerly for his friend's reply.

"They certainly allow their granddaughter, or niece, whichever she is, more liberty than Hildegarde's or Lily Ryder's parents do. Still, I suppose they are confident that she can come to no harm, surrounded by such careful friends and companions."

"Did you say, Philip, you were going to the fancy-dress masquerade tournament?" asked Royal Ainsley, slowly.

"I do not propose to miss it," responded Ravenswood.

"Do you think you can secure me a ticket, Phil?" asked Ainsley, point-blank. "Grant me that favor if you can. Remember, I ask it as a great favor. Surely you can manage it somehow for me."

"I'll try," replied Ravenswood. "If it's possible, you shall attend."

During the next few days that followed, handsome Royal Ainsley saw as much of the Three Graces as was possible. One day he was content with a bow or a smile—on the next, a few words in passing; but he was wise enough to keep out of the way whenever their relatives were about.

CHAPTER III.

The fancy-dress masquerade cycle carnival had been the talk of fashionable circles in Newport for the last fortnight, and now, as the auspicious evening drew near, excitement was almost at fever heat.

The tickets of admission had been closely guarded; gold could not buy them. The tickets, which were strictly not transferable, had been duly delivered by messengers to the different members whose names they bore, and the promoters of the affair felt duly satisfied that no one outside the charmed circle of Newport's fashionable Four Hundred could by any possibility invade the sacred precincts.

A whole army of officers were to guard against intruders. There was to be a banquet in the supper-room at midnight, after the masks of the merry cyclers had been removed, that would be so startling in its sumptuousness that the whole country would be talking about it, and those who had been fortunate enough to attend would never forget it in their after lives.

Philip Ravenswood had indeed done his utmost to secure the admittance of his friend; but even he had failed signally. The officers were inexorable in their polite but firm refusal to his request.

Two hours later the grand masquerade cycle carnival was at its height. The marble walls of the millionaire club never held a more brilliant gathering of ladies fair, with eyes behind silken masks brighter than the diamonds they wore, and men braver than the famous knights of old in their powdered wigs, satin knee-breeches and spangled waistcoats.

One wheelman, in the costume of handsome Romeo, sprung from his wheel near one of the fountains, and watched with keen eyes through his mask the cyclers as they passed him one after another.

"Aha! I have them at last," he muttered, as he noted three wood-nymphs hovering close together. "Well, I declare, I thought I should have little difficulty in distinguishing one from the other," he muttered; "but to save my life, I can not tell them apart. I shall trust to fate to choose for me, hoping it will be the beauteous Hildegarde."

Suddenly two plumed cavaliers sprung from their wheels before the two foremost wood-nymphs, and asked permission in silent pantomime to ride as their escorts around the rink, which request was graciously acceded to, but with the dignity of young princesses.

"This is my opportunity," thought Romeo. "I must claim the remaining wood-nymph before some other fellow has the chance to capture her."

The next instant he was bowing low before her.

"May I have the great honor of riding as your escort around the rink, fair wood-nymph?" he whispered in a low, melodious voice. "Ah, pardon my speaking; it was purely a slip of the tongue. I should have made known my request in pantomime. But pray forgive, and do not betray me, fairest of all maidens, to the floor manager, pray, or I shall be ordered from the floor in deep disgrace."

"If she answers, I shall know by her voice which one of the three heiresses she is," he thought.

"Oh, I shall not betray you, Mr. Ainsley," replied the girl, with a jolly little laugh, showing the whitest of pearly teeth, "and I accept your escort to ride with me. I—I am so afraid of tumbling off my wheel, this gay throng and the flashing lights bewilder me so. I—I was just wondering if you would be here to-night."

"Fair maid, you know me?" he whispered, in apparent amazement. "I am astounded, yet flattered. Pray be kind enough to exchange confidences. I have been hoping against hope that you are the one whom I longed to see here. Surely the throbbings of my heart tell me who you are, fair nymph. Shall I breathe to you the name of her whom I ardently wish it to be?" he asked, softly.

"Yes," she answered, eagerly; and there was no mistaking the characteristic catching of the breath, and the intense, eager gaze in the velvety eyes behind the silken mask.

He crushed the furtive hope that had stirred his heart for an instant that it might be Hildegarde, and answered, boldly:

"I prayed the fates to lead me to the feet of beauteous Ida May! Oh, tell me—am I right? Do be kind, and tell me."

"Then the fates have answered your prayer," she replied. "I suppose I ought not to tell you until unmasking time, but really I can not help it. I am Ida May."

"Thanks, ten thousand thanks for ending my suspense, dear girl," he murmured, as only Royal Ainsley could utter the words. A few sweeps around the rink, where handsome Romeo, with his superb fancy riding, was the cynosure of all eager feminine eyes, midst murmurs of admiration, then he whispered to his companion: "Come into the conservatory; the air is too close here. You are riding as though you were dizzy. Are you?"

"Yes," she answered. "I must have air. I——"

The wheel suddenly wobbled recklessly from side to side, as though its rider had lost control of it entirely.

Royal Ainsley sprung from his wheel just in time to prevent her from falling, and in that instant he crushed her closely to his heart, then as quickly released her.

The excitement was so great, no one noticed this little by-play, or saw Romeo lead the fair wood-nymph from amid the glittering lights to the shadowy depths of the cool conservatory. Standing their wheels against a marble Flora, he found a rustic bench on which he placed her, taking a seat beside her, dangerously near, his hand closing over the fluttering little white one, his handsome head, with its fair, clustering hair, bent near her own. A half hour they spent amid the dim, cool shadows, the perfume of the roses enfolding them, the soft, low, bewildering echo of the delicious music floating out to them.

Remember, the young girl was only seventeen, dear reader, otherwise the place, and the scene, and the fair, handsome lover by her side could not have infatuated her so quickly or so deeply.

"This is heaven!" he whispered. "How I wish we could linger here forever, Ida—I your devoted knight, and you my queen, the world forgetting, by the world forgot! Do you wish it could be so?"

The low cadence of his voice; the thrilling touch of that strong, white hand that was stealing around the supple waist, drawing her toward him; the panting of his breath, which she could feel on her flushed cheek; the mesmeric, steady gaze of those bright blue, shining eyes, bewildered her—made her heart flutter as it had never fluttered before.

"Do you wish we could be always together, Ida?" he persisted.

"Yes," answered the girl, with a half sob of affright, trembling under the strange spell that had slowly but surely been cast over her.

"Then marry me, Ida!" he cried, "this very night—within the hour, and no one can ever part us after that! Oh, Ida, do not refuse me!" he urged. "I love you so that I would die for you. Fate surely intended us for each other, or we would never have met and loved as we do. Oh, my darling, you can not deny it! You do love me, Ida May?"

She strove with all her might to deny it; but, in spite of herself, he wrung the truth from her lips—that she did love him. A sudden light that she could not quite understand leaped up into his eyes for a moment, and a triumphant smile curved his lips.

"We shall be married to-night, Ida!" he cried. "I will arrange it somehow;" and as he uttered the words, he told himself that the great heiress was as good as won.

CHAPTER IV.

The crash of the music, the hum of voices, and the song of the rippling fountains seemed to dazzle Ida May's senses.

"Promise me that you will marry me, my darling!" cried the impetuous lover. "Would it be so very difficult, Ida?" he whispered.

She clung to him, the terror deepening in her eyes.

"This is a little romance all our own," he added, clasping her closely. "Ida, let me kiss you!" He clasped his arms around her and drew her to his breast. "You are mine in life, mine in death, and mine through all eternity!"

He kissed the sweet lips over and over again.

She was so young that she believed him.

"Let us be married first, then we can talk over all these things after!" he exclaimed, impetuously.

She was dazed by his passionate words.

He felt quite sure that this sweet, beautiful, dainty young girl could not hold out against him if he only persisted.

One more bold stroke, and the heiress would be his.

There would be a scene, he well knew, when he brought the young girl back to the old folks. But it would surely end by their forgiving her. They could not hold out against her very long.

"You are—sure—it—it—would be right, Mr. Ainsley?" she faltered.

"You must not call me 'mister' sweet one," he cried. "To you I shall be 'Royal' from now on to eternity. Let me manage this affair, my darling," he added.

All power of resistance seemed swallowed up by his indomitable will.

"Go to the cloak-room, my love," he whispered, "and change your attire as quickly as you can. I will meet you at the fountain nearest the entrance. Not one word to either of your friends, Ida," he said, warningly. "Promise me that!"

There was no crossing him. Indeed, the very power to even think for herself seemed to have left her.

Like one in a dream, Ida May donned her street clothes, the thought filling her mind of what Hildegarde and Lily would say when it was unmasking time and they came to look for her. How startled they would be!

Outside all was confusion. There was a great crush of carriages, the babble of coachmen and footmen, the crunching of wheels, and the calling of numbers. To the girl whom Royal Ainsley led on to so strange a fate it seemed like a dream. Some one followed with their wheels. Royal Ainsley took them from the man, and she saw him toss him several pieces of silver.

He did not tell her that he had written a note to an old minister, living two miles out of the village, asking him to remain at home to marry them. No name had been signed to the note; but he had argued to himself that the minister, who probably was sadly in need of making an extra dollar, would stay at home to perform the ceremony. If his plans matured well, all well and good; if they miscarried, well, no one would be the wiser as to who sent the letter.

He assisted her to mount her wheel, and, as if in a dream, they went speeding down the boulevard.

"We must make quicker time, my darling," he said.

Was it a sob he heard coming from the girl's lips? Ida May seemed to have suddenly awakened to a sense of what she had done. A brief half hour since she had been in the midst of a brilliant party, and now, scarcely knowing how it had come about, she found herself flying with the handsome lover, whom she had known but a few short weeks, going she knew not whither.

The awakening came to her like a terrible shock.

"Royal!" she cried, "oh, Royal, what have we done? Where are we going? I did not mean to run away. I must have been mad. Let us go back again!"

As she spoke, the great clock from some adjoining tower struck the hour of twelve.

"We are too late," he said. "We have burned our bridges behind us. They are unmasking now, and they have missed you. They will soon institute a search."

She clasped his arm.

"Oh, Royal! I must tell you all!"

The hot, trembling hand clung to him, the lovely young face was full of awful grief.

"My own darling!" he cried, leaning over and rapturously embracing her, though in doing so he nearly caused her to fall from her wheel.

Suddenly the heavens overhead seemed to darken, the wind to freshen, and the booming of the waves, as they dashed heavily against the shore, sounded dismally in the distance.

"We must make haste," said Royal Ainsley; "there is a storm coming up. I think we could save nearly half a mile by cutting across this field."

He swung open a gate opening out into a broad patch of land, and Ida rode in.