The Rake's Unveiling of Lady Belle

by Raven McAllan

  The carriage drew to a halt, and Lovett opened the door to help them out.

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ he said firmly. ‘Diccon and the carriage will follow.’

  ‘Rubbish, Diccon and the carriage can wait here,’ Belinda said. ‘We’re only walking to that small copse of trees and back.’

  Lovett looked doubtful. ‘But what if…’

  ‘We get hit by a kite?’ Belinda pointed to where three small boys flew kites as their nursemaids watched. ‘Or maybe run over by a dog cart and a milk churn?’ The subject in question was making its sedate way across the grass in the other direction.

  ‘You might be accosted,’ Lovett said stubbornly. ‘I…I can’t let that happen.’

  The unspoken words, ‘his lordship would kill me’, hovered in the air. Belinda nodded, resigned to being trailed, as well as boxed in by Tippen and Mrs L.

  ‘Then let’s go.’ She set off a at brisk pace, and then hearing Mrs Lovett huff and puff slowed her steps to something more friendly.

  ‘Lord, I thought I was about to meet my maker for a moment. You youngsters might manage to walk that fast, but my old legs won’t.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Belinda was contrite. ‘I’m a bad-tempered besom.’

  ‘You’re a worried one. There’s a difference.’ Mrs Lovett shaded her eyes as a rider approached them from behind the trees. ‘Now, who the devil is that coming this way?’

  ‘No idea, probably just someone enjoying the park as we are. He’ll change directions in a moment.’

  However, the rider continued to head in their direction at a gallop.

  ‘That’s too fast with young children around,’ Mrs Lovett commented. ‘No wonder they’re running back to their nursemaids. Scared they’ll be.’

  Belinda didn’t feel too fearless herself. One of those achy tingles assailed her suddenly and she took her pistol out of her reticule and hid it between two folds of her skirts. Her disquiet must have reached the others because they drew closer to her to form a guard.

  The rider pulled up a scant few yards in front of her and jumped down form his horse. Even though he was immaculately dressed he seemed no gentleman. His expression as he devoured her with a look and a leer that made her feel dirty confirmed her impression.

  ‘Ha, you are here, my dear. Just as well I found you because you have until Monday or your father will be much the worse off. Much.’ His podgy lips stretched into a semblance of a smile and his eyes almost protruded from their sockets. ‘Naughty to run away. I’ll soon get that temper out of you.’

  Belinda gripped the gun tightly. ‘I have no idea who you are, or indeed why you think I have a father who I would worry about.’ She inclined her head in a manner reminiscent of the most regal of dowagers. ‘Excuse us, you are in our way.’ She moved to brush past him.

  ‘Not so fast.’ He grabbed her arm.

  Lovett cleared his throat. Belinda ignored him, and also Tippen and Mrs L who stood watchful and ready, as she concentrated all her attention on the man.

  Who on earth is he?

  Somehow she knew it would do her no favours to show any weakness.

  ‘Let go of me, before I make you do so in a most unpleasant manner.’ Belinda was proud of how even her voice was.

  He ignored her, and his grip tightened. ‘You know full well who I am, what you owe me, and I’ve come to collect. I was never so pleased as to be told you were here, alone.’

  ‘However, as you can see, I’m not alone.’

  Who is he?

  ‘Servants. They don’t count.’ He sneered and spat at Mrs Lovett’s feet. That lady clenched her fists.

  ‘Now are you coming with me?’ he asked Belinda. ‘Or do I have to drag you later?’

  ‘I have no idea who you are. I’m not going with you, and if you don’t believe me, maybe this will persuade you otherwise.’ Belinda lifted her pistol and calmly pointed it at his heart, thankful for the lessons Lady L had made her take.

  ‘You wouldn’t dare use that.’ He didn’t sound as certain as he had a few moments earlier.

  Belinda laughed. ‘You think not? It’s easy. I point and squeeze and that is it. Some common felon intent on robbing me is no more.’

  ‘I’m no felon, I’m Penfold.’ His tone was a peculiar mixture of arrogance and bluster.

  ‘A common felon does not have to be a commoner.’ She was shaking but had no intention of letting him see that.

  ‘Your father has offered me to you, to save himself.’

  What? Why am I not surprised?

  ‘Ah but I’m no longer under my father’s care, and he can go hang for all I care. Now, do you move or do I shoot?’ Belinda shook Penfold’s hand off her and stared at him steadily. ‘You have until the count of three. One…two…’

  ‘Damn you, you will be mine. You have until Monday or it will be the worse for you, not just him.’ He climbed back onto his horse and rode off the way he had come.

  ‘Talk about one of the melodramas at the theatre.’ Belinda shook with fear or annoyance—she wasn’t sure which. Probably both. ‘It seems we have our own. I…I think we best return so I can read that dratted letter.’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Are you sure she’s really away?’ Phillip paced his study—five paces one way before he bumped into Macsporran and seven the other before he hit the desk and bookcases—and glared at Macsporran, his private inquiry agent. ‘Sit down before I knock you down. So, you don’t think she is just keeping out of sight for some reason?’

  The ex Bow Street Runner shook his head warily. ‘Certain as I can be that she is not, my lord. No one knows, or is prepared to admit to knowing, where she is. All was well until the break-in, which you were told about. Then it seems her father turned up, and then after him an unknown man, who I now believe was Lord Penfold.’

  ‘That bastard? No wonder she ran.’ Penfold’s dissolute and murderous reputation went before him. ‘What is it? Three wives or five he has gone through?’

  ‘Five I think. All under, shall we say, less than natural circumstances. Now, I’m doing my best, but her people are close-mouthed and your men said they didn’t know.’

  Which meant they didn’t. They might be working for Belinda but their first loyalty was to him. If they had any idea what was going on, they would have told him. How she had slipped past his three employees he had no idea, but it seemed she must have done so.

  ‘Evidently,’ Macsporran went on, ‘one day she was there and then she wasn’t. Went out for a ride and didn’t come back. No one is over worried, which is suspicious in itself. Well, no one except her father who went to Bruton Street in a rage and Lord Penfold who followed him, and had a stand-up row with him on the doorstep. Punches were thrown and Penfold is now sporting a black eye, spitting horse nails, and saying retribution is needed.’

  ‘Penfold. It is worrying, very worrying. Apart from losing wives like others misplace a glove, he’s someone I wouldn’t trust as far as I can spit.’

  Macsporran coughed. ‘They do say her father promised her to him. Debts so bad he and his sons are done for. Washed up again.’

  ‘The debts I believe, the washed up has been on the cards, or that should be due to the cards, for years. The rest is rubbish. She’s run from him once already over some such thing, and she’s now got her majority. She’d never agree.’ She is mine.

  ‘That is probably half the reason she’s disappeared.’ Macsporran said slowly, and took out a notebook from his pocket. ‘I can tell you her family is right out of sorts. Rumour has it unless Penfold come up with the ante they’ll be on the next packet to France, with just the clothes on their backs and their bad luck at cards to sustain them. Some say there’s French blood in them somewhere.’

  ‘We can only but hope,’ Phillip said darkly. ‘’Tis a pity Madame la Guillotine is no longer welcoming aristos. They would be prime fodder for her.’

  ‘Ah true enough.’ Macsporran stood up and bowed. ‘I’ll be off, my lord, and see if I can come up with anyth
ing else, though I do say it’s not looking hopeful.’

  Phillip nodded. ‘The lady is well used to hiding herself if need be. I just hope she’ll realise I’m to be trusted and confide in me sooner rather than later.’

  Meanwhile all he could do was make sure the salon and her home were secure.

  He hated it. That awful feeling of being helpless and relying on others to find out what was going on. In an effort to discover what gossip was doing the rounds of the clubs, Phillip headed to White’s.

  He was hailed by several peers and acquaintances, and given the latest on dits about the Regent, and his mistresses. Plus gossip regarding a certain young peer, a bow and arrow and an apple, and a lady who should have known better was on everyone’s lips, but nothing about Lord Howells, his sons, Penfold or Madame Belle. Which should have reassured him but didn’t.

  After tossing back a glass of port he didn’t want, Phillip made his farewells and headed back into the street. He turned right out of the club towards his house, and walked briskly along the road, deep in thought. A shout made him stop and look across the road.

  Macsporran caught him up and wheezed a little as he bowed. ‘That was a fair pace you had on you, my lord.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Phillip apologised to the other man. ‘I was deep in thought. Do you have more news?’

  ‘Not as such, no. But the white-haired man who your man saw? There’s talk it could be something to do with Lady Rattenberry.’

  That confirmed his suspicions regarding the shiv. It didn’t make Phillip feel any better, on the contrary. This was more than idle jealously; it was definitely vindictive spite and a wish to do Belinda harm.

  ‘Madame Belle, meanwhile, has gone into the country, destination unspecified.’

  ‘More than likely.’ Phillip thought rapidly. ‘My godmother, Lady Lakenby. Why didn’t I think of her before? She knows most people in the ton, and those on the periphery. I’ll head for Sinton tomorrow. You, meanwhile, keep your ears to the ground, and if you do catch anything important, send a message via one of my staff.’

  Phillip could have kicked himself. His godmother had helped before. In the absence of Clarissa, Lady L was surely whom Belinda would turn to for help. As she’d left the capital a few weeks earlier, he’d need to follow her to her country estate.

  Pleased that he now had a plan of action, instead of enforced idleness, Phillip headed home, there to give orders for his departure the following morning. He then headed back into the city. He had two very important errands to run. Both that might very well save the day, in different ways.

  By six a.m. he was up and breakfasting on a chunk of bread and cheese. By seven he was riding out of the capital.

  At that time of the morning the roads were clear, and apart from the overnight mail coach from Edinburgh, he met very few vehicles. Consequently, he made good time to his first change of horse, where he took the opportunity for another late breakfast. At the rate he was travelling he should reach Sinton by mid-afternoon at the latest. Phillip downed his ale and headed into the stable yard and another of his horses he kept along the post road north. If he took it steady, and indeed he didn’t want to arrive too early and upset the household, he would only need one more change of mount before he arrived at his godmother’s. What he would do if she had no news he daren’t think.

  Phillip mounted and took the road out of the town. It was obvious this horse hadn’t been ridden for a while, and it took him several miles to cajole the fidgets out of the animal. Maybe it was time to reconsider the number of posting inns where he kept his horses. After all, since meeting Belinda again, his forays to out-of-town trysts had ceased, and it was unlikely he would need so much cattle stationed around the country in the future.

  I hope.

  He whistled as he rode along the tree-lined drive to Lady Lakenby’s estate just before three in the afternoon. The sun shone, the birds tweeted, and it was the epitome of rural England. Brown and white cows grazed on the horizon and in the distance a church bell chimed the three-quarter of the hour. A rabbit hopped across the drive in front of him, and his horse pecked before he was encouraged to move on.

  Halfway down the hill, which led to the honey-stoned house that was his destination, Phillip turned off along a secondary drive towards the stables. Instead of it being sleepy and only attended by a groom dozing on a hay bale as he expected mid-afternoon, it was a hive of activity.

  The pink of the ton in the many-caped riding coat who was giving orders to all and sundry turned as Phillip clattered into the yard.

  ‘What the…?’ The man stared at Phillip as he dismounted, and then walked towards him to envelop him in an embrace. ‘Phillip, what are you doing here?’

  ‘That should be my question to you. Where’s your wife?’

  Lord Theo Bennett, known to everyone as Ben, grimaced. ‘That is a good question. Who knows, for I do not. Why are you here?’

  Phillip handed his horse over to a groom, nodded his thanks and slung an arm over Ben’s shoulder. ‘A good question also. I’m after a woman.’

  Ben snorted. ‘That makes two of us then, but I’m married to mine. What about you?’

  ‘I will be. Even if I have to tie her to the altar, gag her and play ventriloquist so the clergyman thinks she says “I do”.’

  ‘I’m sure that could be arranged. Who is the lucky woman?’

  ‘Belinda Howells. And if she doesn’t agree pretty damn quick she won’t feel that lucky, I assure you.’

  ‘And you think she might be here?’

  Phillip shrugged. ‘I’ve no bloody idea, but as she’s bosom bows with your wife and my godmother it’s a good guess that if she isn’t, Lady L will know where she is. Whether she choses to tell me is another thing altogether.’

  ‘Lady L? She’s ill, that’s why Clarissa visited.’

  ‘Elise ill? Are you sure? For it would be most unusual for me not to be informed.’

  It was Ben’s turn to shrug. ‘At this bloody moment, I’m not sure of anything except a vindictive woman is worse than a nest of adders. Oh not my wife,’ he said hastily. ‘But…oh no matter.’

  Phillip nodded as a shout made him turn around. ‘You go on; I’ll see what Troup wants.’ The head groundsman was waving to him urgently. He left his friend, and turned back to the stables.

  Fifteen minutes later, he made his way indoors. Troup had wanted no more than to thank him for taking on his son to attend to the gardens at Whiston, but it had been a while before Phillip had been able to make his escape. He followed Ben’s footsteps inside and made his way to where he heard voices.

  His godmother looked up and he entered the room and smiles. ‘No men for weeks and two at once—my goodness—who I suspect are both on the same mission.’

  ‘Didn’t he tell you?’ Phillip nodded towards Ben who held his hand up in mock horror.

  ‘Once we sorted out who was who, and I was told my wife wasn’t here, I said you were on your way. I was ordered to wait. So wait I did.’

  ‘No point in going over everything twice,’ Lady L said comfortably. ‘Right, Phillip. Why are you here? As if I didn’t know.’

  He shook his head in mock annoyance. ‘If you know, why ask me?’

  ‘Ah, I surmise I know but I do not know for certain. So tell me.’

  ‘The lady I want to marry is in trouble and I need to marry her as soon as possible. You aided her before; you would do so again.’

  ‘True, but she was adamant she wouldn’t ask for your help and involve you. She doesn’t want you to know just how low her father would stoop.’

  ‘She’s too late for I do. Plus she is not asking, I’m giving and I am involved whether she likes it or not.’ Phillip paused. ‘Which reminds me, Godmama, do you know a man, white-haired, probably prematurely, and consorting with the likes of Lady Rattenberry or Lord Penfold, if not Belinda’s parent? Rattenberry’s groom?’

  ‘Hmm, that strikes a chord. I’m sure you are right though. Youngish, and a permanent sneer?’
/>
  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘Let me think whilst you read this, but I could almost guarantee you are correct. If rumours are true he acts as a bully boy when necessary. Now, this note. Belinda must have forgotten she’d given it to me and not taken it back.’ She handed over a much-folded sheet of paper.

  Phillip unfolded it, read the words and had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat.

  ‘My papa has contacted me and once more demanded I marry. This time, however, the person—I can not bring myself to call him a gentleman, be he a peer or not—has accosted me in London. I must get away. Lord Penfold is evil. I’m at my wits’ end. I have until Monday before he pounces. Clarissa, I’m scared.’

  He blinked, not at all ashamed of the teas that gathered in his eyes. ‘As I thought. The bastard.’

  ‘May I?’ Ben held out his hand. Phillip looked at Lady L who nodded. ‘I thought you should see it first. However, Lord Bennett is also involved, and I hope the pair of you can do something about this mess.’ She cackled. ‘Much as I agree it would be fitting and proper, killing the man is not the answer. Transportation now, that is a different matter.’

  Phillip turned to Ben. ‘Do you have any ships sailing for Australia in the near future?’

  Ben nodded. ‘I do now. At your service.’

  * * *

  ‘Are you sure you should be up yet?’ Clarissa asked Belinda solicitously. ‘You still look a bit wan.’

  Belinda sneezed again. ‘The pollen, lack of fresh air, worrying about what your husband will think when he finds you missing, hell, worrying about what my dratted father will think of next. It’s a wonder I’m still standing here, debating whether to go into the garden for a walk and not hiding in a cupboard somewhere.’

  ‘Not you, you’d never be like that. And stop worrying about Ben. He’ll understand.’ Brodie, Clarissa’s whippet, woofed in agreement.

  ‘I hope so. It’s scary. What do I do next? I can’t stay here indefinitely and I’m certain my father will have somehow found out about Honeysuckle Cottage. He seems to have found most other things.’