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Back One Enchanted Evening Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. The Grand Masquerade Ball
  5. Five Months Earlier . . .
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. September 1936
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. October 1936
  26. Chapter Nineteen
  27. Chapter Twenty
  28. Chapter Twenty-one
  29. November 1936
  30. Chapter Twenty-two
  31. December 1936
  32. Chapter Twenty-three
  33. Chapter Twenty-four
  34. Chapter Twenty-five
  35. Chapter Twenty-six
  36. Chapter Twenty-seven
  37. Chapter Twenty-eight
  38. Chapter Twenty-nine
  39. Chapter Thirty
  40. Chapter Thirty-one
  41. Chapter Thirty-two
  42. Chapter Thirty-three
  43. Chapter Thirty-four
  44. Chapter Thirty-five
  45. Epilogue
  46. A New Year
  47. Extract from Anton Du Beke’s next novel’
  48. Acknowledgements
  49. About the Author
  50. Letter from Author

‘Mr Charles, may I be excused?’

Maynard nodded. ‘The Buckingham is greater for the sacrifices we make, Miss Marchmont,’ he said. But, by then, Hélène was already out of the door.

*

As the dancers prepared to fly out onto the ballroom floor, Raymond de Guise could see Hélène holding herself tensely. His hand was in hers, but it was as if she was in another world.

‘Hélène?’ he whispered. ‘Hélène, what happened?’

‘He took my weekend,’ she uttered, her voice tight with anger. ‘I’m to dance with the Schechts again, when I should be . . .’ No, Hélène, she told herself. Not a single tear. Not here. Not in front of my girls. ‘You know where I should be, Raymond. To Mr Charles, I’m just another prima donna artiste making demands. He thinks he bought my entire life, and all because of that year I was away. As if all I was doing was sunning myself in Los Angeles . . .’

Raymond squeezed her hand tenderly. ‘You’re strong, Hélène. You can handle this.’

But as they walked through the doors, Hélène was thinking: Maybe I can do this. But what if I don’t want to? What if there’s something more important in the world, some other place I ought to be?

Later, after the demonstrations were over and the evening dances yet to begin, guests could be heard to remark in the hotel halls how clumsily Hélène Marchmont had danced that day. They wondered if she was tired, or if she was unwell – or if the punishing schedule of dancing at the Buckingham Hotel was finally taking its toll on one of its leading lights. Only Hélène knew why she’d found herself out of rhythm with the music, out of synch with Raymond as they performed their climactic double reverse spin to an expectant crowd.

Secrets were ten a penny in the Buckingham Hotel, but this one she would keep for herself.

September 1936

September 1936

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

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NIGHT HAD FALLEN AT THE Buckingham Hotel, and for hotel page Billy Brogan that meant only one thing: opportunity.