The Runaway Heiress (9 page)

Chapter
Five

Frances need not have worried.

When she was ushered into
the breakfast parlour by Watkins, the elderly butler, there was no Aldeborough
for her to face, nor, to her intense relief, had Lady Aldeborough put in an
appearance. Instead she was greeted by a friendly smile from Matthew and a
direct and assessing gaze from a young lady whom she had not yet met but whom
she immediately recognised. The lady had clearly just arrived, dressed in the
sprigged muslin and blue sash of the debutante and dangling a straw bonnet by
its ribbons in a cavalier fashion. She was sufficiently like Matthew to brand
her as his sister, but her hair was much fairer with auburn tints. She was
blessed with a youthful prettiness, a lively expression and a decided sparkle
in her eyes. Frances found it an interesting experience to be under the shrewd
scrutiny of a lady younger than herself. So this was Aldeborough's sister, who
did not appreciate the benefits of education but was undoubtedly enjoying her
first Season.

'Frances!' Matthew, with
the familiarity of their previous acquaintance, sprang to his feet, abandoning
a plate of eggs and creamed kidneys. His smile of welcome engulfed her and
immediately helped her to control the nerves fluttering in her stomach. 'This
is Juliet, my little sister. Last night she was chaperoned to a masquerade by
Aunt Elizabeth, so you did not have the opportunity to meet.'

Frances met the
considering gaze levelly.

'I heard the news on the
family grapevine so I had to come home early to see you for myself.' Juliet was
clearly a forthright young lady. 'Is it true? Did Hugh really elope with you
and marry you out of hand without your guardian's permission?'

Frances flushed, silently
cursing her fair skin that made her discomfiture very evident.

'Juliet! I must apologise
for my mannerless sister, Frances. She is not known for her sensitivity. Come
and sit and have coffee.' He pushed aside some of the debris of cups and plates
on the breakfast table to make a space for her. 'Don't worry. Mama does not
leave her room until after eleven o'clock.' Frances was mortified to feel her
flush deepen further.

'I did not mean to
embarrass you,' Juliet apologised with a gleam in her eye. She pulled up a
chair to sit beside Frances and cast the ill-used bonnet on to the table. 'It
all seems so romantic to me.'

'It was not at all
romantic, I do assure you.'

'My sister reads improper
romantic novels when Mama is not looking,' Matthew explained.

'Do be quiet, Matthew! To
be carried off by a romantic hero into the night—it is far more exciting than
anything I have read recently. Although I have to say that I can
not
see Hugh in the role of hero, but that is
probably because he is my brother. He is very handsome, I suppose. And he rides
a horse well. But I think I prefer fairer heroes with golden locks and blue
eyes.'

Frances laughed at this
ingenuous view of her rescuer and found it easy to respond in kind. 'Then I
must try to live up to your expectations of a romantic heroine. Perhaps I
should have a cup of coffee before I faint!'

When Frances was seated
with coffee and bread and butter, Matthew explained the plan of action for her
first morning in London.

'I have been given
instructions from Aldeborough. He sends his apologies and says that he has a
business appointment this morning from which he cannot renege, but he will be
honoured to drive you round Hyde Park this afternoon at two o'clock. This
morning I am to escort you on a shopping expedition.' Frances hid a smile as
she recognised the grace with which Matthew had accepted his instructions. She
was sure that he would prefer to spend his time elsewhere, but he accepted the
delegation with good humour.

Juliet showed no such
reluctance and clapped her hands in pleasurable anticipation. 'How delightful.
I must come with you, of course.'

'This is not an excuse for
you to run up bills,' Matthew warned her in an echo of his brother's
strictures. 'Frances needs town clothes. We are to rig her out in prime style.'

'I'm so glad I came home
when I did.' Juliet was not to be deterred.

'But I cannot impose on
your time. You must have other plans,' Frances stammered.

'I have been given orders
from on high. I dare not disobey!' Matthew exclaimed solemnly, but with a
cheerful resignation.

Frances was secretly
delighted to be taken in hand and offered no more resistance.

'When you have finished we
will go. Where do you suggest first, Julie?'

'Madame
Francine
, without question. She has such wonderful creations. You are
much darker than I am, Frances. And married, of course. What fun! Just think of
the colours you will be able to wear!'
                        

Frances's enjoyment of the
morning was beyond her wildest dreams. She had never had fine clothes, and
certainly not fashionable ones. At best she had had to accept Lady Torrington's
cast-offs, which might be fashionable but not to Frances's taste or figure. Now,
introduced as the Marchioness of Aldeborough, nothing was to be too much
trouble, Madame Francine welcomed her personally, saw to her every comfort,
offered her refreshment and expressed, in her suspect French accent, her
desire to present the bride as the most stylishly dressed lady of the Season.
And with such dark colouring, why, she would be a pleasure to dress.

'What do I do about
money?' Frances queried discreetly and with some embarrassment of Juliet, who
was in ecstasy over a magnificent but impractical opera cloak of rose satin
with ruched edges. Matthew had opted, with some relief, to stay with their
carriage, so delegating all responsibility to Juliet, who proved to have a very
practical streak when it came to the necessities of life.

'Ignore it, of course,'
she advised. 'Have all the bills sent to Aldeborough.'

'I cannot do that!'

'Why not? I could. Enjoy
it. A rich husband is a great advantage to a lady. I shall certainly have to
marry a gentleman who has sufficient money to keep me in the height of
fashion.'

'That is not very
romantic!'

'Perhaps not, but it is practical. Now, let us
see what you will need for the beginning of the Season.'

The next hour flew by in a
profusion of gowns and outfits for all occasions. Frances turned this way and
that before the full-length mirrors. For walking, for morning calls, for afternoon
visiting, for evening, for dress balls.

'But I shall never wear so
many clothes.'

'Certainly you will. As
Aldeborough's wife you will be expected to have dash and style. And you cannot
under any circumstances wear the same evening gown too often!' With which piece
of wordly wisdom Frances had to be content.

And then there were gloves
and shoes and intimate items of underwear.

It was all too much.
Frances was dazzled by it. But she was female enough to enjoy every moment,
impressed by the way the new gowns flattered her slight figure and enhanced the
rich colour of her hair and eyes. Even her skin glowed. Why, she almost looked
pretty. Madame Francine and Juliet were both surprisingly complimentary. She
found herself wondering what Aldeborough would say when he saw how she had
spent his money and secretly hoped that he would not be displeased since she
had found such pleasure in it. Perhaps he would not resent their marriage too
much if she looked a little more attractive than the drab and impossibly dull
Miss Hanwell. She smiled in the mirror at the almost unrecognisable Marchioness
of Aldeborough and liked what she saw.

They rejoined Matthew some
little time later at their carriage with the promise of delivery of some
essential items later in the day. Some parcels came with them—Frances could not
resist the prospect of wearing a new gown that very afternoon when Aldeborough
showed her off in Hyde Park.

'And now, I think,
Josephine
for hats.'

Frances closed her eyes momentarily. Her cup
was full.

After an exhausting
morning spending Aldeborough's money, they headed home to partake of a light
luncheon.

'Mama was planning to
lunch with Lady Vowchurch and Penelope,' explained Juliet, 'so you won't have
to suffer an inquisition today. She will have felt compelled to inform the Vowchurch
ladies of the tragic events of your marriage!'

Matthew snorted, but
wisely declined to become involved in malicious female gossip.

'Mama,' Juliet continued,
'sees Penelope as The Paragon. She is the ideal to which none of the rest of us
measures up.' She giggled.

'I realised that last
night. She appears to have a remarkable range of talents. I certainly could not
compare. In fact, I failed miserably on all counts.'

'Neither could I.' Juliet
was clearly pleased to have found a sympathetic ear. 'Penelope was forever
questioning my governess about what I had been learning and blaming the poor
lady when she discovered that I had learnt nothing. Poor Miss Dennison. I fear
I was the worst of pupils. And Penelope was not even family, so she had no
right to criticise her.'

'Tell me...' Here Frances
saw an opportunity to elicit some information without appearing overtly
inquisitive. 'Do I understand that Miss Vowchurch was to have married your
brother Richard?' she asked tentatively.

'Oh, yes.' Juliet proved
more than willing to indulge in family gossip and fill in the gaps. 'And when
he died it was Mama's plan that she should marry Hugh. Penelope did not seem at
all reluctant. And Hugh never actually said he would not marry her. So we all
expected it to happen, until you arrived.'

'Shut up, Julie. You
gossip too much!'

'No I don't. And Frances
ought to know what she has got herself into.'

Frances decided to pursue
the subject. 'Lady Aldeborough told me that your brother Richard was killed,
but that it might not have been an accident.'

'Of course, you would not
know—'

Matthew interrupted and
frowned in Juliet's direction to discourage her. For the first time a reserved
expression appeared on his face and even Juliet looked a little downcast.
'Richard was thrown out of a curricle and broke his neck. Mama doted on Richard
so it hit her hard and she has not got over it. But there is no doubt about it
being an accident.'

Juliet opened her mouth to
add to the story, but after another quelling stare from her brother she
changed her mind.

So with that Frances had to be content.

Luncheon passed pleasantly
enough, but Aldeborough failed to put in an appearance.

'He has probably forgotten
all about you and gone to buy a horse,' commented Juliet with no respect for the
Marquis. 'Or,' with maidenly disgust, 'he is at Gentlemen Jackson's Boxing
Parlour!"

'Take no notice of her,
Frances. It's more likely estate finance. Since he stepped into Richard's shoes
he's been bedevilled by it. But Hugh's absence is my gain—I'll be honoured to
drive you round the park this afternoon.'

'Can I come?' Juliet
brightened. 'I have a particularly fetching bonnet I would like to wear.'

'Certainly
not. I intend to drive the curricle so there is not enough room for three. And,
before you ask, I have no intention of squeezing you in!'

'You
could take the barouche,' she persisted in her most persuasive and sweetest
tones. 'Everyone who is anyone will be in Hyde Park in the afternoon.'

'No.'

'I know. You only
want to drive Aldeborough's horses.' Juliet flounced, her smile replaced by a
petulant frown, and Matthew grinned in agreement.

Juliet
waved them farewell. Frances, in a new fur-trimmed pelisse and silk-flowered
bonnet, with a frivolous little feather muff, concentrated on wielding a delicious
cream silk parasol with the style and dash advised by Juliet, under strict
instructions from Matthew not to frighten the horses.

'I
have never ridden in a curricle before.' Frances looked around with interest as
they turned into the park.

It
was a smart turn-out, if somewhat precarious to Frances's eyes, and, as Matthew
informed her, all the crack. The matched bays, driven well up to their bits,
were a splendid pair with glossy coats and mouths of silk.

'Will
Aldeborough mind you driving his horses?' she asked, remembering Juliet's
comment on Matthew's motives.

'No.
Though I dare not take his new chestnuts. I would give my eye teeth to try them
out, but it would be more than my life's worth to take them without
permission.'

'And
since you're hoping to persuade him to buy you a pair of colours?' she enquired
with a hint of mischief.

Matthew
laughed and had the grace to look a trifle sheepish. 'As you say, it behooves
me to stay in his good books.'

'Is
he persuadable, do you think?' she enquired with interest. The ease of
relationship between the Marquis and his brother was clear to see.

'The
horses or the commission? Usually he's very amenable, but I have my doubts
about both.' Matthew shrugged and grimaced, but seemed unwilling to discuss the
matter further. Frances smiled sympathetically before turning her attention
back to the scene around her.

Matthew
drove her sedately round Hyde Park. It was at its busiest with the members of
the
ton
wishing to see and be seen. Gossip
had obviously been busy, for Frances detected much interest in The Bride. Some
of the glances were direct and overtly curious. Some were brief, followed by a
whispered aside. She cringed inwardly from the content of the speculation and
wished Aldeborough was with her. She felt her shoulders tensing and her fingers
gripped the carved ivory handle of her parasol as if it would be torn from her
grasp at any minute. What did she expect? Her marriage was obviously the
on-dit
of the moment. Matthew, aware of her growing
silence, cast a glance in her direction, noting the set of her lips and the
faint line between her brows, and proceeded to keep up a steady stream of
trivial information about those who hailed them.