Belle's Beau (3 page)

"Not the least," agreed Belle cheerfully. "Philip is a dear, but a bit dull, I am afraid. He was always one for books and quiet pursuits, and he hasn't changed. I can scarcely conceive that he was ever a soldier. One always thinks of a soldier as being dashing and devastatingly handsome and ruthless, if need be."

Mrs. Weatherstone eyed her niece somewhat askance. With amusement, she asked, "Is that your ideal, then, Belle? A gentleman who is handsome and dashing and ruthless?"

"Well, Aunt, can you conceive of me settling happily with someone like Philip?" asked Belle, her eyes dancing as she smiled at the older woman.

Mrs. Weatherstone regarded her for a moment, then shook her head. "You have a point, Belle. No, now that you have made me reflect on it, I do not believe that you would be happy unless you were wed to someone as energetic as yourself."

"Good! Then I may rest easy that you shan't urge me to accept any dodderers or slowtops," said Belle, sliding another laughing look at her aunt.

"Belle!" Mrs. Weatherstone was mildly shocked, but she started chuckling nevertheless. "You are outrageous, my dear. However, I do assure you that you may rest easy on that head!"

Belle noticed the occupants of an oncoming carriage. "Aunt Margaret, someone in that carriage is waving at us," she said, nodding at the vehicle as it rolled toward them. "Is it someone with whom you are acquainted?"

Mrs. Weatherstone looked around. As she recognized the occupants of the approaching carriage, a smile lit her face.

"Why, that is Miriam Carruthers and her daughter, Millicent. They are close acquaintances of mine from Bath. Driver, pull up, please."

The carriages drew abreast, and Mrs. Weatherstone exchanged greetings with her friend. The ladies spoke for a few moments, catching up on what had been happening since they had last seen one another, several months past.

Belle listened with interest to their conversation and studied her aunt's acquaintances. Mrs. Carruthers was obviously a good-humored lady. It showed in her relaxed expression and her friendly manner. She wore a mauve pelisse, cut in a style that complemented her matronly figure. Miss Carruthers had inherited her mother's dark brown hair and expressive brown eyes, but her figure was still girlish. The younger lady's manners were good, not forward in any way, as she greeted Mrs. Weatherstone and Belle with quiet friendliness.

Mrs. Carruthers nodded in a civil fashion to Belle. "It is good to see you again, Cassandra, and in such fine form. I have brought Millicent with me to town, as you see. It will be good for you girls to know at least one person among the tangle."

"Oh, but I'm not—" began Belle, at once realizing the mistake that the lady had made.

Appearing somewhat embarrassed, Mrs. Weatherstone laughed. "Forgive me, Millicent. I had forgotten that I must make things clear to you. This is Anabelle Weatherstone, Cassandra's twin sister. Belle was raised by my father-in-law, Sir Marcus, and we have just lately gotten to know her better. She is staying with us at the town house we have leased for the Season."

Mrs. Carruthers stared hard at Belle, as did her daughter. Belle waited for their verdict, an amused smile touching her lips.

"But, Mama, it must be Cassandra," blurted Miss Carruthers.

Belle laughed merrily. "Cassandra and I look just alike. I don't think that anyone could really tell us apart, unless they saw us on horseback," she offered with a swift smile. "I am much the better rider, as my sister would readily admit."

"My word! No, you are not Cassandra, for she doesn't care overmuch for riding. We don't do much riding in Bath, you see. The resemblance is remarkable, however. I am very glad to meet you, Anabelle," said Mrs. Carruthers, extending her gloved hand.

Belle leaned far over and shook the lady's hand. "Pray call me Belle," she begged. "Everyone does."

"Very well! I shall do so, of course. I trust that you and Millicent will become good friends," said Mrs. Carruthers.

"I hope so, too," said Belle, smiling. She glanced at Miss Carruthers and caught the girl's shy smile and still-wondering expression. She nodded to the girl, which caused Miss Carruthers's smile to deepen, bestowing deep dimples in the girl's rounded cheeks.

"But where is Cassandra? I quite thought that you meant to bring her out this Season," said Mrs. Carruthers, turning once more to Mrs. Weatherstone.

"Cassandra did not come up to London with me, after all. She is engaged to be married and is spending a few months with her grandfather while she is preparing for the wedding." said Mrs. Weatherstone. She gave a small chuckle. "So much has happened over the last several weeks that I wonder at times if I am on my head or my heels."

"I know that my own head is spinning," said Mrs. Carruthers, shaking her head. "I can scarce take everything in. Cassandra's twin sister here in London and Cassandra already engaged! May I ask to whom?"

"Mr. Philip Raven, my father-in-law's godson. He is lately out of the army and a very respectable gentleman," said Mrs. Weatherstone proudly. "I like him very well, as does Phineas. Sir Marcus also thinks very highly of him. In fact, my father-in-law is exerting himself on Mr. Raven's behalf to secure him a diplomatic post. We are very hopeful of the outcome."

"Well! This is good news, indeed! I am very happy for you, Margaret. And so you are bringing Belle out instead, is that it?" asked Mrs. Carruthers, her frank gaze returning to Belle's animated face.

"Oh, yes. I have the best of both worlds now! A dear daughter who is to be wed and a new daughter upon whom I may lavish all of my attention for the duration of the Season," said Mrs. Weatherstone, glancing at her niece with a fond smile.

Belle felt her eyes misting. Her heart was full of joy. She said quietly, "Thank you, Aunt. That was very prettily said."

"You are fortunate, indeed, Margaret," said Mrs. Carruthers, nodding and smiling at Belle in approval. "She is every inch the lady, just like Cassandra."

"You must come to our opening ball, Miriam. I will send an invitation," said Mrs. Weatherstone warmly.

'Thank you! We shall be glad to receive it, won't we, Millicent? And you must be sure to come to our little gatherings this Season, too," said Mrs. Carruthers. The ladies exchanged addresses, then Mrs. Carruthers remarked, "Mr. Carruthers and I hope to send Millicent off in style, of course."

"Mama!" exclaimed Miss Carruthers, coloring prettily.

The two older women laughed, exchanging mutual glances of amusement.

"Millicent, you know very well that I shall speak so openly only to Mrs. Weatherstone," said Mrs. Carruthers indulgently. "I shan't embarrass you, I promise."

"You—and Belle, too!—must allow us some forthright speaking. We do have hopes and dreams for you, and we feel compelled to share them with at least one sympathetic ear," said Mrs. Weatherstone.

"Exactly so," nodded Mrs. Carruthers.

"At least you do not dream of a dodderer or a slowtop for me," murmured Belle mischievously.

Miss Carruthers overheard her and started to laugh. Guiltily, she put a gloved hand to her lips, murmuring an apology. "Oh, hut that was too funny!"

"I see that you and Belle have had some plain speaking between you, too," observed Mrs. Carruthers with a raised eyebrow.

Mrs. Weatherstone smiled, glancing tolerantly at her niece. "Yes, Belle and I are very comfortable with each other."

"It is not to be wondered at, is it? I am certain that she is as like Cassandra as a pea in a pod," said Mrs. Carruthers.

Belle scarcely dared to glance at her aunt, memories running through her mind of how often she had puzzled both her aunt and her uncle when she was masquerading as her twin. She did not always do or say precisely what her sister might in the same circumstances. With the faintest hint of mischief in her voice, she said, "Oh, indeed. We are very much alike."

"I cannot explain to you how very like, and yet unalike, they are," said Mrs. Weatherstone, with the slightest shake of her head, as though in puzzlement.

Mrs. Carruthers nodded thoughtfully. "Now that you have mentioned it, I imagine that is so. Being a twin must be an odd thing. Well, we must be off. It was very good talking to you, Margaret, and of course meeting you, Belle. We shall look for you again."

Belle exchanged good-byes with Mrs. Carruthers and her daughter. The other carriage pulled away and their own continued on. She turned her head and burst out laughing at her aunt's still-puzzled expression. "I know! Cassandra is by far the quieter and more ladylike of us. I do feel for you, Aunt! You shall have your work cut out for you, for I am not in the least accomplished."

Mrs. Weatherstone's knitted brows smoothed. She met her niece's gaze, saying, "Pray do not speak so disparagingly of yourself, Belle. I like you very well as you are. As for accomplishments, you play the harp beautifully. And you are very graceful on the dance floor, too."

"Those are my sole assets, however," said Belle. On a regretful sigh, she added, "I wish now that I had been more interested in ladylike pursuits. My governess Miss Bidwell quietly despaired of me, of course. I had little inclination toward my studies, so that I am not in the least a bluestocking."

"Thank God for that!" interposed Mrs. Weatherstone with a smile.

Belle smiled, but shook her head. "Nor am I very good at embroidery or watercoloring or playing the pianoforte."

"I am certain that Miss Bidwell made many earnest attempts to awaken some spark in you, but I scarcely find it surprising that you were not an apt pupil," said Mrs. Weatherstone with a smile and the slightest shrug.

"Why, Aunt, should I take offense at that?" asked Belle lightly.

Mrs. Weatherstone shook her head. "Not in the least, Belle, for it was not your fault. You were brought up in a rather slapdash fashion, after all. You rode unchaperoned all over the countryside, and your grandfather was indifferent to the finer accomplishments, caring only that you knew how to ride and hunt at an early age. I place the blame altogether squarely on Sir Marcus's shoulders." Mrs. Weatherstone ended with unexpected vehemence.

Belle was astonished by her aunt's sweeping assessment. Even though she recognized that her aunt was speaking from the standpoint of an uneasy history with her grandfather, nevertheless she was hurt, too. It seemed to her that Mrs. Weatherstone harbored doubts about her upbringing that would surely affect a successful come-out. Yet although her background was found to be lacking, Belle felt compelled to defend it.

"You mustn't criticize my grandfather to me," she said with a direct look at her aunt. "However much I chafed at times because of his intolerance, I still loved him. He gave me a home when I had no other, and he is exceedingly fond of me."

"Yes, you are right. Forgive me, Belle! I spoke out of turn," said Mrs. Weatherstone in a contrite voice, reaching out to take her niece's slender fingers in a brief squeeze.

"Do you really feel that I am backward?" asked Belle slowly.

"Belle! No, of course not! Not in that way!" Mrs. Weatherstone shot a swift glance at her niece's face. Seeing Belle's pensive expression, she sighed suddenly. "I know that it is no excuse, but I was only expressing my own frustration and anxiety. I want only the best for you this Season. I do not wish you to feel any sense of inadequacy, and yet I must be honest with you. You have been brought up differently from other girls. There might be some who will not be kind because of it."

"Much I care for that," exclaimed Belle, relieved that her aunt's fondness for her was not measured by her accomplishments or lack of them. "I am not insensitive to my inadequacies, but I know my own worth, too. Do not be overly anxious on my account, Aunt Margaret, for I don't doubt that I shall make my own way very well, I assure you."

Mrs. Weatherstone regarded her almost with a sense of wonder. "When you speak like that, I have no difficulty at all in believing that you are not Cassandra."

"Oh, dear, have I done it again?" exclaimed Belle, dismayed. "I had determined to use Cassandra as my pattern-card, and I had promised myself to behave just as properly as my sister would if she were coming out."

Mrs. Weatherstone laughed and reached over to hug her. Very earnestly, she said, "Never mind, my dear! You must be yourself, and not try to be Cassandra."

"I'm glad to hear you say so, Aunt, for I don't think that I can do otherwise," said Belle, only half in fun.

Chapter 3

After their return to the town house, Belle went upstairs to change from her walking pelisse into a simple day gown. While the maid tended her, she thought over the drive in the park, most particularly reviewing what her aunt had imparted to her at the last.

As Belle had informed her aunt, she had no illusions regarding herself. She was practically unschooled in social graces except for what little Miss Bidwell had been successful in instilling in her. Her personal charms, however, were considerable. She had heard enough compliments at the house party she had attended to be assured of that much, at least.

Belle studied herself in the cheval glass as the maid put the final touches to her toilette. Her reflection revealed a young miss of average height, with fiery highlights in her dark hair and a set of fine hazel eyes. She was slim and lithe, having been used to riding practically every day of her life. Though the cheval glass did not show her inner character, she knew that she had a zest for living and a confidence of manner that inspired others to warm to her.

Belle also had a respectable dowry and inheritance, which she had already realized stood her in good stead. Her uncle had been very approving when he learned what Sir Marcus had settled on her. Belle had gathered that many faux pas could be forgiven a young lady of beauty, intelligence, and grace, especially when it was all connected to a considerable inheritance. It was a very interesting sidelight to the new world that she was now entering.

In addition, Belle had learned over the course of the last several weeks that Mrs. Weatherstone had very precise notions of how a lady should look and act. Her aunt had taken her to the best shops and had had her hair cut in the most fashionable crop. She also spent considerable time in instructing her on social protocol and gave lectures on conduct. It was not only Belle's appearance that had changed, but in some ways her mannerisms as well.