Nobody in Linden Hall was safe. Her brother was a monster.
Chapter 59
“She doesn’t like him, Hattie. I think she’s afraid of her brother.” Jack was clutching Bella’s latest letter in his hand as he entered Harriet’s little private sewing room.
Harriet pushed her needle through the linen and looked up. “Well, that’s not so strange. I don’t always like you. It’s called sibling rivalry. And in Bella’s case, it’s probably worse because it’s a new situation she’s in, and she’s not comfortable with it.”
“It’s more than that. She says he has a cruel streak. And he has plans for her which she’s not involved in.” It was that part of the letter which had agitated him the most.
“What sort of plans?”
The infuriating part was that she hadn’t said. Bella was new to the art of letter-writing. “I don’t know, damn it. It makes me uneasy, knowing she’s so far away and everything.”
Harriet gave him a level stare. “Don’t you think she can look after herself? She’s survived well enough up until now without our help.”
It was what he needed to hear. “I daresay you’re right.” He tucked his letter into an inside pocket. It was the third he’d had from Bella and feared it was to be the last. She’d been using her mother to post her letters to Jack, but the lady had refused to do so any longer. It seemed nobody up in Derbyshire approved of Bella’s correspondence with him.
“It might be for the best, as they don’t like her writing to me. And none of her letters refers to anything I’ve written in mine, so I’m sure her family made sure she never got them.”
Harriet tossed her needlework ring aside. “It’s so unfair. It’s not like any of us have harmed her in any way—we’ve only wanted what’s best for her. Papa employed her, you rescued her from the engine and a fight, and I’ve been her friend. It’s so ungrateful of her family to treat us in this high-handed manner.”
Jack walked across to the window. “I guess it comes with their standing.”
“Ha! What standing should they be allowed when they’ve so many skeletons in their closet?”
“Good point.” He gazed out the window, something he’d been doing a lot lately. Under the lowering October sky, Henstridge Hall was small and stifling. He wanted to be outside, way beyond the stinking confines of the smoky little town. Hattie and Georgie were his only friends at the moment—Mama and Papa were always short with him, but they blamed him for the situation, saying he never listened to them properly any more, didn’t show them enough respect. Hattie was the current favourite, doubtless because she and Georgie were on speaking terms again. It seemed a match was in the wind.
Papa was so ungrateful—didn’t he realise how much of his energy and his heart Jack had poured into Henstridge’s mill? It had been too much—there was more to life than the mill. There was something out there, a different, unconfined life just waiting for Jack to claim it. It was as if Warbury was all wrung out—all used up. It had nothing to offer anymore.
“Heavens, Jack, I don’t think you’ve been listening to a word I’ve been saying.”
“Hmm? Sorry?”
“I was asking about the Pennefather’s ball. Do you think Eliza Birkwood will be there?”
“Ah, your great fashion rival. It’s always good to have a bit of competition, Hattie, it keeps you on your toes.” Eliza Birkwood was a mindless society beauty. Harriet could, in his opinion, run rings around her.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Hmm? What? Well, you shouldn’t mind if she’s there. There’s nothing to be gained by avoiding the woman.”
“That’s not the point, and well you know it. It’s her behaviour towards Georgie that’s been bothering me.” After a moment, Harriet laid her hand on Jack’s arm. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve got problems of your own, and I haven’t really been helping you with them.”
He pressed his hands against the window frame and leaned against it. “I think I need to get out, Hattie. I need to get away, go somewhere new, start again. I doubt I’d have any difficulty finding work in America.”
Hattie’s grip tightened. “You can’t leave me and go to America! It’s a volatile country from what I’ve heard—you wouldn’t be safe there. What about some of the other weaving counties, like Yorkshire, or Lancashire? That’s not so far to go. And not a million miles away from Derbyshire. You could go and see Bella, and have a good excuse for being up in the area.”
He turned, irritated. “What would she think of me then, if I suddenly came to live nearby? She’d think I was chasing after her, and I couldn’t bear to have her think that.”
“Why shouldn’t she think it—if you love her? She’d be flattered. I know I would. If only Georgie had been so devoted, I would never have had second thoughts about him.”
“Georgie was foolish. We all know that. I’m not.”
She stared up at him, her jaw set. “It’s just your stupid pride. You can’t stand the idea that her family will look down on you. We both know they will look down on you, so what’s the point of worrying about it? You’ll just have to face up to it.”
He pulled out of her grip. “I’m not going, and that’s final.”
“Then you’ll never know, will you? You’ll spend the rest of your life not knowing what might have happened because you were too proud to test her feelings for you.”
“I’ve said I’m not going.” His voice was harder now. “That’s enough on the subject—I’m going to take Charys out for a run.”
Harriet’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t want Bella, perhaps I can urge Miss Birkwood your way. All I need do is circulate a rumour that you’re interested, and she’ll be on you like a peregrine on a pigeon.”
“Harriet!” He strode to the door, real anger building now. “Harriet, mind you don’t push me too far.”
But as he left the room and headed for the stable, he wasn’t sure who deserved his wrath the most—his sister… or himself?
Chapter 60
Their mother’s nagging had forced Henry to apologise to Bella. He hadn’t said ‘sorry’ as such, but he’d bought her a docile little mare, which he presented with a flash of his brightest smile.
She fell in love with the beast immediately, and soon the autumn days were filled with learning to ride. She applied herself with a willingness approaching desperation because she saw it as a way to escape. Sometimes she felt like a sacrificial victim from ancient days, when human offerings to the gods were treated like kings or queens for a time, before the sumptuous feast that preceded their execution.
Her anxieties about being married off had increased now Henry had arranged this house party, the one to which all his friends from college were going to be invited. A houseful of men—she was sure one of them was destined to be her husband. Would she be allowed any choice in the matter of which one?
It was a relief to go out riding with the groom, Thomas, who’d been assigned the task of teaching her. It started out with him mounting another horse and leading the mare—who she’d christened Dolly—by the reins, with Bella perched awkwardly on her back. Thomas didn’t know, so she didn’t tell him that she wasn’t supposed to go to the butchers’ in town.
So, go they did, and she spent many comfortable hours relating all her troubles to her forthright grandfather, while Thomas cared for their mounts at a nearby inn.
Grandpa, alas, had not been able to see any way out for her, except to go back out into the world on her own and look for employment. He would love to have her in the shop, he’d said, but they both knew Henry would have her away again as soon as he found out. Bella knew, deep inside that Henry would show no mercy if she did this. She wasn’t afraid for herself, but she couldn’t bear for her beloved grandfather to suffer.
Mama knew nothing of these visits. Fortunately, she was too involved in learning how to be a grand hostess, thrilled at the idea of entertaining all Henry’s friends, some of whom were—supposedly—very important and extremely
wealthy. Mama had bought new clothes for herself and Bella, as well as new drapes and tablecloths for the house—no expense was spared to make Linden Hall look as up-to-date and accommodating as possible.
On the day when the first guests were expected, Bella returned early from her ride to find two carriages in the drive. She hurried inside and up to her room, sure that if Henry spotted her, he’d complain she wasn’t dressed to greet guests. Once there, she made certain their lady’s maid, Watson, didn’t choose anything too alluring for her—she’d no intention of playing into Henry’s hands by attracting the notice of any unattached young men.
Feeling nervous, she tracked the new arrivals down to the winter drawing room, which doubled as a music room. When the door was opened for her, she saw her mother, sitting thin-lipped well to one side, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, and wondered what could have ruined her cheerful mood so quickly.
Two young gentlemen were in the room besides Henry, but Bella was surprised to discover they’d not come alone. One man shared the Chesterfield with a young lady dressed in deep red, who wore some alarming feathers in her hair, and the other was sprawled on the chaise-longue with a second female. This woman was elegantly dressed, and dripping with jewels, most of which were displayed on the ample bosom revealed by her deeply-diving neckline.
Both gentlemen leapt to their feet as Bella entered the room. Henry—with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—made the formal introductions.
“Max Scheider, my sister Isabella.”
“Delighted.” The gentleman bent his shining head over her hand, his hair so slick with Macassar oil, she couldn’t work out what colour it was. His lady, the red one, was introduced as Daisy—no surname was given, but Bella noticed the woman wore no ring.
“Oh, isn’t she a peach!” the woman warbled at Bella. “I shall have to keep my eyes on my Max with you around.”
Bella smiled pleasantly. She didn’t feel at all inferior—this was no proper lady, not like Harriet Henstridge. In fact, no more a real gentlewoman than Bella herself.
Henry continued the introductions. “Felix Kepplestone, and the charming Claudette.” The slender Felix towered over Bella, his height reminding her of Jack. But that was where the similarity ended—his hands felt cold and clammy, like a fresh fish. Claudette, like Daisy, was warm in her greeting.
“Eesn’t she delightful? I can see ze looks run in ze family. I do ‘ope we shall be best of friends, my dear.”
Bella shook hands. She felt she could tell a person’s character by their touch, and Claudette’s handshake, unlike any of the others, was firm and sincere.
“You talk funny… I mean strangely. Are you not from these parts? It’s certainly not Bristol or Wiltshire—I’d have recognised the accent if it were.”
“Ah! You are very honest, are you not? Perhaps you ‘ave not met very many of ze French people. But zat ees where I am from.”
There was an outburst of coughing from the side of the room. When she looked around, Mama was smiling sweetly at them.
“Did you have a nice ride, Isabella? Would you like some refreshment now? Hot or cold? I don’t know what the temperature’s like outside.”
Mama does not like these people. Perhaps she was disappointed there were no unattached gentlemen for Bella. Which Bella didn’t mind at all. Unfortunately, the guest list was not yet complete.
While the afternoon wore away towards the hour they’d have to dress for dinner, Max entertained them with his expertise on the piano. When he tired, the others begged Daisy to sing, but she said she wasn’t warmed up enough yet.
“I’m sure we will all be in for an absolute treat when you are warmed up.”
Daisy appeared not to notice the sarcasm in Mama’s tone, but Bella did and wasn’t surprised when her mother took her out into the hallway for a private word.
“I don’t think I need to play hostess the whole time—the young people will enjoy having free rein to enjoy themselves. You needn’t feel obliged to stay with them after dinner either, Bella—you must be weary after your exercise.”
Was that a suggestion, or a command? “But I like them, Mama. They’re fun. I’ve not been with many people who know how to enjoy themselves like these people do. They make me laugh.”
“I don’t know what Henry’s thinking of. I shall have words with him in the morning—believe me, I will.”
The sudden jingling of the doorbell presaged the arrival of another guest. The butler admitted a gentleman, who removed his hat as he entered.
Bella took a sharp breath. The man was taller than Henry, but not by much. His hair was so fair it was almost white, and his skin was pale too. But there was nothing unhealthy in his complexion, or weak in his build. When he’d handed over his coat and wrappings to the butler, he turned on the ladies a pair of eyes so blue, that it was almost as if they shone with their own light.
He came towards Bella and her mama, bowing deeply, but Henry, who’d stuck his head out when he heard the bell, flashed past them and caught him up in a great bear hug.
“Neville, you blackguard, how dare you be so late? You have kept me on tenterhooks these past four hours, and I fully intend to punish you for it.”
Neville, looking over Henry’s shoulder, muttered, “The ladies!”
Slowly releasing his friend, Henry turned to make the necessary introductions. The young Adonis was presented as Neville Drinkwater, Henry’s best friend from college. “Nev is a truly classical character—he studies poetry, philosophy and enjoys wrestling. He’s also a mean hand with the foil and has won several swimming medals. In fact, I cannot think of one single thing he is not good at.”
Mr Drinkwater shook his head and gave a wry smile. “My dear Harry,” he said, throwing a pretend punch at Henry’s chest. “You exaggerate me greatly to these ladies. As this is your precious family, meeting me for the first time, I would advise you to be honest with them.”
He was smiling at Bella and her mama, but Henry had lost interest in them already and was guiding his friend into the drawing room. No sooner were they inside than the room erupted with great shouts of greeting and feminine squeaks of delight. Mama’s lip curled very slightly.
“It’s so nearly time to change for dinner. I don’t think we need to go back in. We can talk to Mr Drinkwater at the meal. At least he hasn’t brought some fancy woman with him. Lord, I wonder what other rabble are going to wash up here tomorrow?”
Bella was ready to pop back into the drawing room to join the other young people, but the look in her mother’s eye prevented her. Well, this was going to be interesting. Mama didn’t approve of Jack Henstridge as a suitor for her, but neither did she approve of any of Henry’s friends so far.
Which might play into Bella’s hands, if Jack ever decided to declare himself. But he hadn’t come to see her, nor written. If he didn’t make a move soon, she would have to bind up her wounded heart and forget all about him.
Chapter 61
Bella had joined the company for their first grand dinner together. She planned to eat carefully, her stomach still unused to the richness and variety of foods on offer. It was also important not to overeat and get sleepy, as she was certain she’d miss out on an enjoyable evening if she went to bed early.
Claudette shook out her napkin and looked at Daisy. “You must promise to sing to us later, Daisy, after ze gentlemen ‘ave ‘ad zere cigars. You ‘ave such a lovely voice.”
Daisy blushed and looked coy, but Bella could see she was lapping up the attention. She wondered if Mama, still coldly disapproving, knew that Claudette and Felix were holding hands under the table. At least, that’s what she thought they were doing—the tablecloth between them was certainly rumpling in an unusual manner.
Bella noticed such things, having had to learn a lot of her etiquette by observation. She knew enough to realise that playing under the table with one’s dinner neighbour was not generally considered good form. It amused her, made these well-dressed, strange people seem
more human. Even Henry had warmed in their company, and she’d always thought him a very cold fish. Except when he was angry.
Bella was next to Neville, with Henry at the head of the table, around the corner from his best friend. She wondered why the two men’s places had been set so close together that their knees must be nearly touching. She herself was just far enough away from the multi-talented Mr Drinkwater to admire his elegant profile and exceptional colouring. She admired too, the dainty manner in which he sipped his soup, stroked the delicate stem of his wineglass and chewed his food slowly rather than wolfing it down, as some men did.
He went out of his way to be pleasant to her. “You have my every sympathy, Isabella, in that you have to share a roof with that cantankerous old boot, Harry. Yes, I know you can hear me, my friend, there’s no need to look so mean. I’m just teasing you in front of your sister. She has doubtless already made her mind up about you, haven’t you?”
Someone else drew Henry into conversation so Bella tilted her head towards Neville’s and said softly, “I do find him rather difficult.”
“I quite understand.” He nodded. “But he has many good points. Once you’ve convinced him of your worth—as I’m sure you must—he’ll be an unfailing supporter. It takes time to win over a man like Harry, but it’s well worth the battle. I’d rather have him on my side than make an enemy of him. He can be very unforgiving.”
“You know him better than I do. He… all this, is still very new to me.”
“Of course, it is. I know the story, so you needn’t speak about your troubles if you don’t wish to. I think you’re extremely brave to come here. In fact, I think everything you’ve done has shown an enormous amount of courage. Harry has not had those sorts of difficulties, which is perhaps why he shows a certain lack of… understanding. Give him time—you’ll discover he’s worth it.”
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