Courting Lord Dorney (25 page)

This was no time for dissembling, Bella decided. ‘Does she love him?’ she asked bluntly.

‘Yes, and she’s been so miserable since then. He took his dismissal like a gentleman, I suppose, and refrained from seeking her out. She is convinced he has found someone else, but she doesn’t know who. If he’s badly hurt, even if he dies, which from what you overheard is not impossible, she will go into a decline.’

‘I’m sure she is stronger minded than that,’ Bella said. Should she tell Lady Belstead that she had been the new object of the Major’s gallantry, and had refused him? She decided to wait until they knew the precise extend of his injuries.

They speculated, but knew nothing until, after ten minutes, Major Ross himself came hurriedly into the room.

‘Lady Belstead, what’s this I hear about Eleanor?’

At the same time Lady Belstead spoke. ‘So you are not injured!’

‘She swooned, but she will soon recover when she sees you are not hurt,’ Bella said crisply. ‘She heard you had been beaten almost to death.’

‘I need to see her. No, they exaggerate. Frederick was beaten, and he has some nasty cuts, and a couple of black eyes, but he’ll mend. Now can I see her?’

He didn’t even notice that I was there, Bella thought in amusement, after Lady Belstead had conducted him upstairs. He would, it seemed, soon be consoled after her own rejection. And how immensely fortunate she had rejected him! What a coil it could have been.

Lady Belstead soon returned, smiling. ‘I think that’s all going to be well,’ she said. ‘The Major is going to take Frederick home to Cambridge until he has recovered his looks. Poets with black eyes do not elicit the required female adoration! But he won’t remain there. We are going to Weymouth and he intends to accompany us.’

* * * *

Alexander looked defiant. ‘You’re not my guardian, Richard. I’m of age, and I won’t be dictated to by you! Nor am I responsible to you for my actions.’

‘Did you attack Frederick Ross? People are saying it was you. You’ve been complaining about him for weeks. They know you blame him for your broken engagement. He may not have seen you, or recognized you at the time, but there will be plenty of people to suggest it was you. And Frederick can be vindictive. He may bring a case against you.’

‘The man deserved to be horsewhipped! I’ll congratulate the man who did it.’

‘You, Alex.’

‘No one can prove anything.’

Lord Dorney sighed. ‘I strongly recommend that you leave town. Go home to Bath. Let people forget.’

‘Run away from the insinuations, you mean?’

‘Sometimes a retreat makes sense. Alex, if you stay, you’ll be the object of sly hints, and one day you’ll say something that will condemn you. You won’t be able to resist. I’m going to Dorney Court next week. Come with me. Leave Felicity to ponder on the loss of both her swains. Then when you meet again in Bath she might be more amenable.’

An hour later he breathed a sigh of relief. He had worn Alexander down, and eventually his cousin had agreed to return to Bath and join him later at Dorney Court.

He had made up his mind to go home. Bella seemed intent on causing scandal, and he suspected he was part of the reason for her behaviour. He had wavered between trying to forget her, and abandoning his own doubts and asking her to marry him. Unable to decide, he hoped that a few months away from her might clear his mind. If he could not forget her, then he would seek her out once more. If in the meantime she became engaged to someone else he would have to accept that she was not sincere in her protestations of devotion to him. He would, as he had tried to persuade Alexander with regard to Felicity, be better off without such a wife.

He didn’t believe himself.

* * * *

Bella set off for the party at Amelia Stockley’s house in high spirits. She enjoyed meeting new people, and she had a feeling that she might find people there who would not condemn her.

The house, in Portman Square, was richly, even lavishly furnished. A footman in a powdered wig and black satin knee breeches escorted her up to the drawing room. As she approached Bella could hear the buzz of conversation, almost drowned by the plaintive wail of a violin. The footman, with great ceremony, announced her, and for a moment all conversation stopped as people turned to look at her.

Bella was no shy, retiring violet, but this concentrated stare caused her to blush faintly. She threw back her head, smiled, took a couple of steps into the room, and waited composedly for her hostess to greet her. As one lady detached herself from the throng, the conversations resumed.

Amelia Stockley was a ravishing blonde, tall and voluptuous. Her gown clung provocatively to her luscious curves, and the décolletage was, Bella considered, almost indecently revealing. She wore a flamboyant necklace of blood-red rubies, in a rather antique setting, and ruby ear drops which must, Bella thought, stifling a giggle, have been painfully heavy.

‘My dear Miss Trahearne! How good of you to come to my little party! I have so longed to meet you. Tell me, how is dear Jane? It’s such a pity she went back to Lancashire before I knew she was in town.’

Bella considered this speech as Amelia took her round the room introducing her to the other guests, none of whom she had met before. She could not imagine Jane, with her fastidiousness, being friends with such a woman. But perhaps, if they had been intimate many years ago, Amelia might have changed. However, if the woman moved in the best society, she could hardly not have known of Jane’s presence. She shrugged mentally. She herself was being condemned by the best society, so she would make do with these others.

The room had seemed crowded, but in fact there were only a dozen people there. Soon after Bella’s arrival they sat down to listen to some music. The violinist who had been playing performed first, then a rather nervous young lady sang some sentimental songs. To Bella’s relief that was all, and the company trooped down to a buffet supper laid out in the dining room and a large, overheated and humid conservatory which opened from it.

The food was ample, and better than Bella had expected. Clearly Amelia paid her cook more than she did her musicians. The other guests were friendly, and from what they said were mostly minor country gentry. There was even a banker and his wife, a middle aged couple who entertained Bella with stories of the stratagems some of the less wealthy young men, anxious to cut a dash, used to avoid paying their bills or borrow from the bank. Champagne flowed, and after two glasses Bella decided she must not have any more. She was feeling the effects more quickly than usual, and did not want to disgrace herself.

‘Come, we’ll go back upstairs,’ Amelia said. ‘Bella - I may call you Bella, I hope - you’ll enjoy a game of faro. Or would you prefer a hand of piquet?’

Bella was amused. None of her previous hostesses would have dreamt of entertaining their guests by setting up a faro table in their drawing rooms. A room set aside for cards, for the older guests who did not wish to dance, perhaps, but she had never before seen the entire company gather round a faro table. They did so with enthusiasm, and Bella gathered that it was a regular form of entertainment.

The stakes were high, and after an hour, when an end was called to the game, Bella was surprised to see that the cards seemed to favour her unduly, and the pile of money in front of her had grown considerably. Her initial stake must have multiplied by at least four times.

‘You have good luck tonight,’ a woman whose dress was almost as revealing as Amelia’s, said to Bella. ‘You will have to come again so that we can take our revenge!’

Bella smiled her acknowledgment, but she was embarrassed. She could have afforded to lose, and she wondered whether all of these people could? One of the young men, who had been signing vowels towards the end, was looking rather downcast.

But she had enjoyed the evening. It had been different from the usual entertainments. Some of the company had amused her, and all had made her welcome. When Amelia said they were organizing a party to ride out to Richmond Park a few days hence, she readily agreed to join them. It was some time since she had ridden anywhere except Hyde Park, and that was always rather staid. She would hope for a good gallop. It might take her mind off her problems.

Chapter 15

The day of the outing to Richmond came. As she was dressing, Mary showed her the trimming on her newest gown, the one she’d worn to Amelia’s house

‘It’s coming loose, Miss Bella. And you’ve lost weight since you had the fitting. Shall I take it back to the dressmaker this morning?’

‘Yes please, Mary. It only needs to be taken in a little. She doesn’t need another fitting, and I don’t want to have to endure standing still while she tries not to stick pins in me.’

‘You’ll want it when you go to Mrs Stockley’s house next week.

‘Yes, if I go.’

Bella had thought about the card party a good deal, and decided that in some fashion her good luck in winning had been contrived. The other people had all known one another well, she had soon realized. Had they all been involved in some sort of conspiracy against her, a new and wealthy heiress? Had she unwittingly stumbled on some kind of gambling fraud?

Rich young men were often lured into gambling dens, she’d heard, and allowed to win at the outset. Then they had lost heavily, and many had been ruined trying to win back their fortunes. Were rich young ladies also in such danger? She decided they were, particularly when they had no chaperone or parent to warn them of the perils of believing they were lucky and would in the end win. She was undecided whether to return and test her theory, or make some excuse for not going. She could afford some losses, and it would give her satisfaction to know her suspicions were accurate. However, she might be misjudging Amelia Stockley. If the woman were honest, did Bella want to cut herself off from the only people in London who did not despise her?

She would decide after the outing today, when something might be discovered to prove her theory or not. She returned her attention to Mary.

‘And I need another pair of white gloves. You know my size, and I can trust your taste. You can purchase some for me.’

‘Yes, miss. Oh, Jackson wants to see you before you go out.’

‘Send him to the dining room. I’ll be down in a few minutes.’

Jackson came to report that one of the Welsh cobs had a loose shoe. ‘I can’t understand it, Miss Bella,’ he said. ‘Their shoes were all replaced a week ago. I’ll have to take him to get it done today. You’ll be wanting to drive out tomorrow, I think.’

‘Yes, get it done. Do you want to go to a different farrier? Do you think the other didn’t do his work properly?’

‘No, Miss Bella, we’ve used him since we came to London, and Masters has used him for years. Perhaps it was a faulty nail. It sometimes happens.’

At that moment Mrs Stockley and the rest of her party arrived, and Bella set off with them. The day was warm, the skies cloudless, and Bella thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity of a gallop. She thrust away all thoughts of Lord Dorney and the snubs she had received from many of the
ton
. Tomorrow would be time enough to decide what she meant to do.

Meanwhile she was alert for any indication that she was being set up as a dupe for plucking. When they stopped to eat a nuncheon at an inn near Richmond she commented on how much she had enjoyed the card party, and how amazed she was at winning.

‘For I have played very little,’ she said. ‘I know very few games of chance.’

‘You will soon learn,’ Amelia said. ‘Why, a year ago I knew scarcely anything about cards. Then William - a friend - taught me. Now it’s one of my greatest pleasures to sit down to a game of faro or piquet.’

The others in the party, who had all been at Amelia’s house that evening, were equally reassuring. Bella concluded they almost certainly intended to ensure that she did not win any more. Should she give them another opportunity to prove it, or be discreet and make excuses to refuse further invitations?

* * * *

As they rode home Bella’s thoughts returned to the houses she was setting up. She would go and see the Floods tomorrow. Her scheme for providing homes for orphans was a success. She’d had letters from both Preston and Bristol to report progress, and all seemed to be going well. Other people were coming forward with money for the running costs of the homes. One elderly gentleman had offered to buy a house himself and leave all his money towards the cost of more, on condition they were named after him. A reasonable enough request, Bella considered. She would begin to look round for more suitable properties.

As she parted from the rest of the party and turned into Dover Street she saw Jackson running towards her. He ran beside her, talking so rapidly and with intense excitement that she could not make out any words apart from ‘Mary’.

‘Mary? What’s happened?’

She halted the mare and turned to look at the groom. He was white-faced, his hair rumpled, and his coat buttoned up incorrectly. She’d never seen him in such disarray before. Normally he was neatly dressed.

‘Mary! She’s been took! She never came back from that errand you sent her on this morning!’

‘What? You mean she’s had an accident? Is she hurt?’

He shook his head. ‘That’s what we thought when she didn’t come back. I went to see if I could find her, but she’d left the dressmaker’s hours before. Then a note was delivered.’

‘A note?’

He seemed calmer now and was able to explain. ‘Yes. For you. A lad brought it, said he’d been given a couple of pennies from a gentleman who was just getting into a closed carriage to deliver it.’

Bella’s thoughts were whirling. ‘A note? From Mary? Where is it?’

As she stared at Jackson she became aware of someone else standing beside her. She looked up and saw Lord Dorney.

‘Jackson, take the mare round to the stables while I explain to Miss Trahearne.’

He gave Bella his hand and helped her dismount. Bewildered, trying to absorb the implications of what Jackson had said, and why he should be here at her house, she permitted him to lead her indoors, where she found the rest of her servants hovering in the hallway.