Belle's Beau (25 page)

Cassandra laughed. "I shall have not the least difficulty, I assure you. And I shall write to you, too."

"So I should hope!" retorted Belle. She returned the journals lo her sister and then gave her a tight hug. "I
shall
miss you, Cassandra!"

"And I, you! But I am not gone yet, so let us not grow maudlin," said Cassandra. "See, I am already fighting tears." She pulled out her handkerchief.

"Oh, no! We mustn't weep. We have another week, do we not?" asked Belle, dashing her hand across her own eyes.

"Yes, and then Philip and I shall be wed," said Cassandra, her eyes suddenly shining like brilliant stars.

"You do realize that the fashionable do not go about with their spouses," said Belle teasingly. "The ladies all acquire gallants to escort them to the theater or an entertainment and leave their husbands to their own devices."

Cassandra shook her head quickly. "Philip is the only gallant that I shall ever need! That does remind me of an odd thing that happened this afternoon, though. Philip and I were at the bookstore when an old dragon accosted us. I gathered the impression she was affronted that Philip kissed my hand in such an informal setting. She was quite rude to us and then huffed off. I've never been so astonished in my life."

"Do you know who it was?" asked Belle curiously.

Cassandra shook her head. "I haven't the least notion. I had never seen her before in my life."

Belle shrugged, her mild curiosity passing. "I shouldn't worry overmuch, Cassandra. It is not as though you were doing anything scandalous, after all."

"No," agreed Cassandra. "Now, Belle, which gown are you wearing this evening? I favor the pink, for I think it looks utterly dashing on you."

"Do you? It is one of my favorites as well," said Belle, adding teasingly, "and are you wearing Philip's favorite tonight?"

A slight blush rose to Cassandra's face. "Of course! Now I must hurry or I shall be late, so do go away, Belle!"

Laughing, Belle left her sister to her toilette and went away to attend to her own. She was eagerly looking forward to the evening, which was a select ball. It could hardly be anything but perfect, for her betrothed, Lord Ashdon, was to make one of the Weatherstone party.

When Belle entered the ballroom, one of the first personages she saw was Lady Ashdon. She urged Lord Ashdon to take her over to her ladyship as quickly as possible so that she could make her greetings.

"Lady Ashdon! I am so glad to see you," she said, holding out her gloved hand.

Belle
was a good deal shocked and dismayed when she was treated to a chilly reception by that lady.

"Miss Weatherstone. How nice to see you again." Lady Ashdon extended two fingers to Belle. Her ladyship's expression was cold, her eyes were filled with antagonism.

Belle was surprised and confused by the turnaround in Lady Ashdon's attitude. She was glad of the viscount's presence beside her. The warmth of his hand on her elbow was very welcome. "I am glad to see you again, my lady," she said politely. "It has been too long since we last visited."

Light flashed in Lady Ashdon's eyes. "Has it, Miss Weatherstone? I quite thought we met just recently. Do you actually like to read, Miss Weatherstone, or is shopping for books simply an artful dodge?"

Lord Ashdon's blond brows had snapped together. "Ma'am, be warned. I shall not allow any uncivility toward my betrothed," he said quietly but with authority.

Lady Ashdon turned her wrathful gaze from Belle's astounded face to her son. "Adam, you cannot marry this woman! You know nothing about her true character, as I do."

"My lady, that is quite enough! I will not tolerate either your insulting implications nor your interference," snapped Lord Ashdon.

There was beginning to be some interest in their low, heated exchange and conversation around them quieted as others started to pay attention and listen to what was being said.

Belle had been struck by something that Lady Ashdon had said. "My lady, are you referring to a meeting in a bookstore earlier this day?"

Lady Ashdon's lip curled. "How clever of you to admit to it, my dear! I suppose you intend to explain away your reprehensible actions?"

"What reprehensible actions?" exclaimed Lord Ashdon, a pronounced frown on his face and anger in his eyes.

Belle laughed. She could not help it. She felt such relief to have discovered the cause of Lady Ashdon's antagonism. Laughing was, however, the wrong thing to have done, which she immediately realized.

Lady Ashdon swelled up. "I shall not stand here to be ridiculed!"

"My lady! Pray allow me to explain!" exclaimed Belle, trying to put her hand on the elder woman's arm in an appeal for her ladyship to pause.

Lady Ashdon's eyes shot fire. She removed Belle's hand. "You dare, Miss Weatherstone!" She swept aside and made her way through the crowd of interested bystanders.

Belle stood, her face ablaze as she realized how many people had overheard at least part of the confrontation. She drew a deep breath of dismay. "Oh, dear!"

"What did my mother mean? What were you going to explain to her?" asked Lord Ashdon.

"Oh, Ashdon! It is terrible. Cassandra came back from shopping this afternoon and told me she had met Philip at a bookshop, where he had presented her with a betrothal present of some journals. She remarked that she and Philip had been accosted by a dra-dragon," said Belle, faltering on the unflattering description.

Lord Ashdon had no difficulty in following her. "My mother," he said grimly.

"Yes, apparently so," conceded Belle. "Cassandra said that just as Philip kissed her hand, this lady sailed up and censored them for what she called their lewd behavior. Ashdon, I very much fear that it was your lady mother. And she thought I was Cassandra and that I was playing you false!"

Lord Ashdon regarded her with a deep frown for a very long moment. Then a twitch started near his mouth, and he began to laugh.

"Ashdon, it is not the least amusing!" exclaimed Belle.

"Just so! That is why you laughed a moment ago," said Viscount Ashdon, nodding, a grin still on his face.

Belie gave a reluctant laugh. "Yes, it is amusing. But not really! Oh, Ashdon, what are we going to do?"

"Do? Why, nothing! We shall allow Cassandra to explain her reprehensible actions for herself," said Lord Ashdon. He lifted Belle's hand to his lips and smiled at her. "Do not be anxious, my heart. We shall overcome my mother's aversion to you quite easily."

"I do hope so," said Belle on a sigh. Rather wistfully, she confessed, "I had quite thought that Lady Ashdon liked me."

"She did. She does. It is Cassandra that she dislikes heartily," said Lord Ashdon with wry assurance.

"Yes, so it is!" exclaimed Belle, brightening.

Belle waited for Lord Ashdon to convince his mother that there had been a mistake and to allow Belle to explain. Lady Ashdon remained unmoved. She would not discuss anything with Miss Weatherstone.

Lord Ashdon apologized to Belle for his mother's hardness of heart. "I have never known her to be so adamant," he said, frowning.

"Never mind," said Belle, managing to smile at her betrothed. She was determined to put as good a face on the situation as possible. "I don't mind so very much."

Lord Ashdon caught up her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. "You are a terrible liar, Belle," he said tenderly.

Belle laughed, even as tears slung her eyes. "Well, perhaps," she conceded.

"And it matters to me," said Lord Ashdon somberly. "I do not wish my future wife to be subjected to any injustice or incivility. We will bring her around, Belle, I promise you."

"Yes, of course we shall," said Belle. She managed a smile for his sake, even though her heart was sinking. It was scarcely fortuitous to begin one's betrothal with the loathing of one's future mother-in-law. The most frightening thought was that Lady Ashdon would remain of her same opinion and that as a consequence there would come to be a permanent schism between her ladyship and her son, Lord Ashdon. Belle did not think that she would like to be the cause of such a terrible circumstance.

Chapter 24

Belle's unhappy reflections were given some respite by the arrival of her grandfather, Sir Marcus Weatherstone, and her dear governess, Miss Bid well. When she was apprised of their arrival, she flew down the carpeted stairs, her skirts billowing behind her.

The travelers were still being relieved of their wraps when Belle impetuously rushed into the entry hall. "Grandfather! My very dear sir!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the tall elderly gentleman.

She felt her grandfather's arms close around her and smelled the familiar scent of his coat, which she had known practically all of her life. She lifted her head. "Oh, Grandfather, you've come at last! I have been waiting this age for you."

"Well, well, my girl. It is easy to see that you have not changed much," said Sir Marcus gruffly, setting her aside, though a gleam had appeared in his rather hard eyes. "What say you, Miss Bidwell? Do you recognize our lady in all her finery?"

"Indeed I do, sir," said Miss Bidwell composedly, her spectacles glinting in the light as she moved forward to receive her former charge's fervent hug.

"Oh, Biddy, I have such things lo tell you!" exclaimed Belle. "You will not believe the half of them, I am persuaded."

"Perhaps you may tell Miss Bidwell of all your doings over tea, Belle," said Mrs. Weatherstone with a smile, coming forward with her hand outstretched to her father-in-law. "It is good to have you with us, Sir Marcus. And you as well, Miss Bidwell!"

Sir Marcus shot a keen look at her face. "Thank you, my dear. That is very kind of you, I am sure. Where is my son, Phineas?"

"He is still at his club, but I expect his return shortly. He will be sorry to have missed your arrival," said Mrs. Weatherstone.

Sir Marcus snorted. “That's rich, by Jove! We don't get along by half."

Mrs. Weatherstone's composure was unruffled. "Pray come into the drawing room and we shall have tea. You must be famished after your long journey. I shall have your bags taken up to your rooms." She nodded to the butler as she took Sir Marcus's elbow and showed him the way, with Belle and Miss Bidwell coming up in the rear.

The visitors were ushered into the drawing room and made comfortable. A tea, which fortuitously included a heavy plum cake, a favorite of Sir Marcus's, did much to improve that gentleman's disposition. Belle had not stopped talking about everything that had happened to her during the Season.

"And what of the viscount? Am I to be honored by an introduction, puss?" asked Sir Marcus abruptly.

"Indeed, sir! I could not ask for anything better than that you should meet him," said Belle, sending a laughing glance in her grandfather's direction. She was blushing, but she hoped that no one would take notice of her heightened color.

"I shall send round a note to Lord Ashdon presently, requesting that he dine with us, if it is at all possible," said Mrs. Weatherstone. "We shall have Mr. Raven join us, too." She shook her head, smiling at her niece. "It is a happy day for me, Sir Marcus, when both of my beloved nieces have contracted themselves so well."

"You have done well, madam, you and Phineas between you. I congratulate you," said Sir Marcus.

Mrs. Weatherstone turned a surprised countenance in his direction. "Why, I am overwhelmed, Sir Marcus."

"You never thought to have a compliment from me, I daresay," said Sir Marcus, amusement lacing his voice.

Mrs. Weatherstone flushed, jolted out of her composure at last.

That evening, upon being introduced to Lord Ashdon, Sir Marcus fixed the viscount with his disconcerting fierce stare, obviously taking his lordship's measure. Lord Ashdon was not at all flustered, having been the subject of just such harsh scrutinies many times before while on active duty in the army. He was actually rather amused. "Do I pass muster, sir?" he asked respectfully.

Sir Marcus gave a nod and a sharp laugh. "You'll do, my lord."

It was not long, however, before Sir Marcus noticed the tension in the air and wondered if there was any trouble attending his granddaughter's betrothal to the viscount. He at once taxed Mr. and Mrs. Weatherstone for the truth of the matter. When his son and daughter-in-law admitted that Lady Ashdon had proven unexpectedly against the match, Belle groaned inwardly. She well knew her grandfather's temper. She would have given worlds if her well-meaning relations could somehow have softened their bald statements.

Of a choleric disposition, Sir Marcus at once fired up. Red-faced with anger, he bellowed, "What! Is Belle to be insulted? I'll not have it! I shall call on Lady Ashdon, and we shall see then what she has to say!"

"Calm yourself, sir," said Mrs. Weatherstone, laying a restraining hand on her father-in-law's arm.

Sir Marcus shook her off. "Nay, I'll not be calm, madam!" He pointed a long, bony finger at his granddaughter, who stood before the mantel staring at him. "That girl is all of my life. I'll not stand by and see her made unhappy."

Approaching Sir Marcus, unaccustomed tears swimming in her eyes, Belle gave a chuckle. She raised one of his clenched blue-veined hands and held it between her own. She looked up into his angry countenance. "My dear sir, how can I be unhappy when I have you to champion me?"

Sir Marcus awkwardly patted her shoulder, saying gruffly, "You've always been a good girl, Belle. I'll say that for you."

"Sir, may I suggest that it is more properly Lord Ashdon's place to reproach his parent?" asked Mr. Weatherstone calmly.

"Much good it would do you to reproach me, Phineas, if the shoe was on your foot," retorted Sir Marcus.

Mr. Weatherstone smiled a little and made an ironic bow to his sire. "Quite."

Despite Sir Marcus's biting words, however, his high color was fading. "Very well! I shall hold my peace for now."

"Thank you, Grandfather," said Belle in some relief, letting go of his hand. She had had visions of the irascible gentleman running Lady Ashdon to ground to demand an accounting.

"Are you capable of it, Ashdon? That is what I wish to know!" growled Sir Marcus, his bushy brows forming a solid bar over his long nose. Anger was still evident in his wintry gray eyes.