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Authors: Dilly Court

Tags: #Historical Saga

Mermaids Singing (9 page)

BOOK: Mermaids Singing
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Iris had not spoken a word on the short carriage ride home, but Bella was well aware that she was furious with her for spoiling the evening. Inscrutable as ever, Warner had taken their outer garments and sent the second footman to the kitchen with Iris’s demand for a tray of hot chocolate to be sent to the drawing room.

‘And send the hall boy with coal for the fire,’ Iris said, casting a sidelong glance at Bella. ‘It’s far too early to retire to bed.’

Desmond tucked Bella’s hand in the crook of his arm and led her to the foot of the staircase. ‘You look very pale, my dear.’

‘It’s just the headache, Desmond.’

He slipped his arm around her waist and placed his lips close to her ear. ‘Have you something to tell me, Bella?’

Bella stifled a sigh. Why did everyone assume that her only purpose in life was to produce children like a brood mare? Desmond’s breath was hot on her cheek, smelling of brandy and cigars, but she resisted the urge to pull away from him. ‘No, it really is just a headache.’

‘We’ll have to see what we can do about that,’ Desmond said, running his finger over the curve of her breast. ‘Send Lane away as soon as possible, my dear, I’ll join you in a little while.’

Bella forced a smile as she slid from his grasp. She could feel him watching her as she mounted the stairs and she suppressed a shudder. Instead of going directly to her room, she climbed the next flight of stairs to the nursery suite. The day nursery was in darkness and the fire had burned to white ash. Thinking that Nanny was probably asleep in her room, Bella tiptoed into the night nursery. Leonie lay, sleeping soundly in her cot, her cheeks round and rosy in the flickering glow of the nightlight. Leaning over to lay the lightest of butterfly kisses on Leonie’s golden curls, Bella tucked the fluffy blanket beneath her chin. Her heart swelled with love and her throat constricted with emotion as she gazed at her adored child. Leonie was so innocent, so perfect and so utterly beautiful. Nothing else mattered in the world other than providing her with the love and security that had been so painfully missing in her own childhood.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Bella turned to look at Kitty. She lay in her truckle bed with the curtain pulled back, as though she had been gazing up at the night sky, before she had fallen into a deep sleep. Her feet were poking out from beneath the serviceable cotton quilt and, as Bella went to cover them up, she hesitated for a moment. Taking a closer look at the callused soles of Kitty’s feet, Bella recognised the results of going barefoot, even in winter. There were crimson patches over her toes where badly fitting boots had rubbed her skin into blisters: these had burst, festered and formed weeping sores. Snatching up Kitty’s boots, Bella shook her head, stifling an exclamation of disgust at their worn state. The heels were worn down; the soles holed and padded with brown paper. Replacing them on the floor beside the bed, Bella reached out to stroke the uneven regrowth of hair on Kitty’s head. Poor kid, she thought sadly, you could be me just a few years ago and I know exactly the kind of hell you’ve been through. Creeping out of the room, Bella closed the door quietly behind her. She could do nothing to wipe out Kitty’s past, and she could not be seen to favour her too much, but at least she could do something about the boots. She would give Nanny Smith instructions to take Kitty to Harrods first thing tomorrow, and ensure that she was fitted out with a new pair of properly-fitted, leather boots.

Seeing a glimmer of light beneath the door to Nanny’s room, Bella opened it just far enough to peep inside. The gaslight on the wall made popping sounds but the room was empty and the bed neatly made up. Bella gave an exasperated sigh; Nanny Smith should have been close at hand in case Leonie needed her. She would have something to say to that stupid country girl in the morning, but that would have to wait. Her headache was getting worse by the minute and now she was feeling sick. Bella made her way slowly down the stairs. She hoped desperately that Desmond would forget his promise to come to her bed and that he would lose himself in the brandy bottle. Try as she might to put it out of her head, Rackham’s darkly handsome face kept appearing in her mind’s eye, sending icy shivers down her spine at the thought of what he might say or do. Desmond would not tolerate a scandal.

As Bella entered her room, Maria emerged from the bathroom, followed by a cloud of scented steam.

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Maria said, undoing the tiny buttons at the back of Bella’s evening gown. ‘I can tell by your face that it’s your curtain call tonight.’

‘I can’t do it, Maria. I’ve got a splitting headache and you know what he’s like when he’s been drinking.’

‘Not as bad as your father was, that’s for sure. At least Sir Desmond don’t come at you with the buckle end of his belt,’ Maria said, deftly slipping the satin gown off Bella’s shoulders and allowing it fall to the floor. She began to loosen the laces of Bella’s corset. ‘Get yourself into the bath and I’ll mix you a few drops of laudanum in some brandy. You’ll get through it, Bella. You always do.’

Next morning, Bella had her breakfast brought to her room. She could not venture downstairs until Maria had skilfully covered the bruises around her mouth with her own special mixture of cold cream and fuller’s earth. When that was done to her satisfaction, she tinted Bella’s ashen cheeks and lips with a touch of Roger & Gallet’s pink salve. A silk blouse with a high neck covered the purple fingermarks on her throat and Maria deftly combed a lock of hair over the bruise on her temple.

‘You’ll do, but I still say you should have stayed in bed,’ Maria said, standing back to gaze critically at her handiwork.

Getting stiffly to her feet, Bella winced with pain as her corsets pressed on her sore ribs. ‘And give Iris the satisfaction of thinking that I’m a pathetic, sickly creature like her poor mama?’

‘I don’t wonder that the first Lady Mableton took to her bed and died young,’ observed Maria, folding her arms across her chest. ‘If this is what you get for nothing, I’d hate to see what you’d get for something.’

‘Please, I don’t want to talk about it,’ Bella said, walking stiffly towards the doorway. ‘As you said, it’s nothing to the beatings my own father gave me. The bruises will fade and he’ll be so sorry this morning that he’ll go out and spend a small fortune in Asprey. I’ll get yet another expensive bauble for my pains.’

‘If that’s all you get, you’ll be lucky,’ Maria said, scooping up the telltale pots of cream and powder.

‘At least he’ll let me be if I’m with child. He seems convinced that Edward will be killed in action and quite happy to replace him with another son. I don’t believe the Mabletons know the meaning of the word love.’ Bella left the room before Maria had a chance to say anything more on the subject, and made her way painfully up to the nursery.

Nanny Smith dropped a curtsey but not before Bella had seen a look of alarm cross her face.

‘Where were you last night, Nanny?’

‘My lady?’

‘I came to the nursery quite late but you weren’t here, nor were you in your room. You know that you’re not supposed to leave Miss Leonie unattended.’

Nanny Smith blushed and her eyes started from her head. ‘I’m sorry, my lady. I was …’

‘Nanny went downstairs to get me a boiled onion for my earache,’ Kitty said, spooning bread and milk into Leonie’s pink mouth. ‘I had earache something terrible.’

She’s lying, Bella thought, but I mustn’t seem to favour her. ‘You were sleeping soundly enough when I came to look at baby. You looked very peaceful to me.’

‘That’s right, my lady,’ Nanny said, hastily. ‘I did go to the kitchen but I had to wait for the water to boil. I came back as quick as I could. It won’t happen again, I promise you.’

‘Make very sure it doesn’t, or I might consider replacing you.’ Bella had the satisfaction of wiping the smile off Nanny’s face. She had never particularly liked the woman, but then she had had no say in selecting her for the position. When Desmond had brought her home, after their hastily arranged marriage in Caxton Hall, Iris had already organised the setting-up of the nursery and that had included the hiring of Nanny Smith.

‘It won’t happen again, my lady. I’m truly sorry.’

‘Then we’ll say no more.’ Bella grasped the back of a chair as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Maria had been right; she should have stayed in bed. ‘Nanny, I want you to take Kitty to Harrods this morning and buy a pair of serviceable boots that fit her properly. Charge them to my account.’

‘Yes, my lady. Are you all right, Ma’am?’

‘Just a dizzy spell. Kitty, let me lean on your shoulder.’

Dropping the spoon, Kitty leapt to her feet.

‘Help me back to my room,’ Bella said, as the room began to swim crazily around her.

Collapsing onto the chaise longue in her boudoir, Bella caught her breath, coughing and spluttering, as Maria wafted sal volatile beneath her nose.

‘You would have it your own way,’ Maria said, closing the lid on the silver vinaigrette with a snap. ‘I’ll turn back your bed and you’re to lie down until I say you’re fit to get up again.’

Through half-closed eyes, Bella could see Kitty staring at her with a disturbingly adult look of understanding and sympathy in those remarkable topaz eyes. ‘Thank you, Kitty,’ she whispered. ‘I feel much better now.’

‘Can I get you anything, my lady?’

Shaking her head, Bella managed to smile. ‘You’re a good girl, Kitty. Tell me, are you happy here?’

‘Yes, my lady, but …’

Forgetting her own troubles for a moment, Bella raised herself to a sitting position. ‘But what? You must tell me if anything is wrong.’

‘No, Ma’am, you’ve been kindness itself to me. It’s just that once, when I was young, I had a silly dream. It’s nothing.’

Resisting the temptation to smile, Bella nodded seriously. ‘We all dream when we are young. Tell me, how old are you, Kitty?’

‘Fifteen, my lady.’

‘And your dream, tell me about it.’

‘I wanted to work in a dress shop up West but now I think I’d rather stay with you.’

‘I’d hate to lose you, my dear, and Leonie would be heartbroken if you were to leave. You’d best go back to the nursery and make sure that she’s all right.’

‘Yes, my lady.’ Kitty bobbed a curtsey and left the room.

Bella lay back against the buttoned velvet of the chaise longue and closed her eyes. In less than a week it would be Christmas Day and the house would be full of guests; there would be luncheons and evening parties leading up to New Year’s Eve. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she thought of the start of yet another New Year tied to a husband that she did not love. Would it be a new beginning or just the continuation of the life that she had made for herself? She adored Leonie with all her heart and soul, but the thought of a new pregnancy terrified her; it would be just another link in the chain that bound her to Desmond, and from which there was no escape. That was, unless Rackham chose to denounce her, and then there would be the inevitable scandal, disgrace, divorce and a headlong tumble back into poverty.

When she was up and about again, Bella discovered, to her utter dismay, that Rackham had wheedled his way into Sir Desmond’s good books by paying marked attention to Iris. And Iris seemed to have metamorphosed overnight from a sharp-tongued spinster, officially on the shelf, to a simpering débutante hanging on Rackham’s arm. Bella had no alternative but to watch Rackham expertly using his charm, flattering and cajoling Iris until she was soft and malleable as melted wax. What his intentions were, Bella could only guess, but she prayed that he was looking for a rich wife. Iris was independently wealthy, having inherited a substantial sum of money from her maternal grandfather’s estate. Bella was certain that, if Rackham knew this, he would be willing to marry Iris, if only to get his hands on her fortune. She wondered if Iris knew that Rackham frequented gambling clubs, bet heavily at the races and was spectacularly unlucky at both. The thought of having Rackham as a stepson-in-law was so appalling that it made her feel physically sick, but at least it meant he would leave her alone. Even Rackham would stop short of trying to seduce his stepmother-in-law. Wouldn’t he?

The New Year celebrations were overshadowed by the news that Captain Edward had been one of the officers wounded at Omdurman and had been confined to a military hospital, although there were few details as to the degree of his injuries. Desmond was in daily contact with the War Office, but did not seem unduly worried; Bella had grown used to this callous show of indifference. Instead of being proud that his son was fighting for his country, Desmond seemed aggrieved that Edward had not stayed at home to run the country estate in Essex and to oversee the London properties owned by the Mableton family. You couldn’t trust damned land agents, Desmond often said, or bloody solicitors if it came to that. They would either cream off some of the rents or be too soft on recalcitrant tenants. Bella had already decided that if Edward was like his father or Iris, then she would really rather not make his acquaintance.

On the night of the opera, just four weeks into the new year, Bella had pleaded a headache in order to escape the inevitable meeting with Rackham, who was now well and truly ensconced as Iris’s suitor. But Desmond had not been in a sympathetic mood and had told her abruptly to pull herself together; she must accompany them to the opera or people would draw the wrong conclusions.

In the first interval, Desmond had gone to the bar and Iris had spotted a friend in the next box. Failing to persuade Rackham to accompany her, she had pouted and flounced off alone.

‘So, Bella,’ Rackham said, moving swiftly onto the gilded chair beside Bella, ‘I have you all to myself for once.’

Fanning herself vigorously, Bella kept her gaze fixed on the audience below them. ‘You have Iris besotted with you, can’t you be satisfied with that?’

Rackham moved a little closer, running his fingers down her arm and taking her hand in his. ‘You know that I want you, Bella. I’ve no interest in a skinny old maid.’

Bella snatched her hand away, rounding on him angrily. ‘Leave me alone or I’ll tell Desmond that you’re annoying me and you won’t have a chance to win Iris’s hand and fortune.’

BOOK: Mermaids Singing
5.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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