Reluctant Escort

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Reluctant Escort Page 23

by Mary Nichols


  ‘Here she is,’ Harriet said. Her face, Molly noticed, was as puce as the silk day gown she wore and she looked decidedly uncomfortable. ‘Come and make your curtsey, Molly.’

  Molly obeyed and went to kiss her godmother’s cheek. ‘Aunt Margaret, I am truly sorry that I worried you. I should not have run away as I did, but you knew I was safe with Captain Stacey, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did not doubt it.’

  ‘Then why are you here? I thought you hated London.’

  ‘So I do, but I could not stand idle, knowing he would be bound to make a mull of everything.’

  ‘How? He has done nothing wrong…’

  ‘Nothing right either.’ She paused. ‘Enough of that. Now you are here, tell me, have you been out and about with your mama, seen the sights, met some of the eligibles?’

  ‘She has had one or two carriage rides in the park,’ Harriet put in before Molly could reply.

  ‘Incognito, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘Not at all. But she is not yet out…’

  ‘And when were you going to bring her out?’

  ‘Soon. I have yet to settle my affairs.’

  ‘And does this settling of affairs involve a certain marquis?’

  ‘That is all over. I decided we should not suit. He is too young and I have discovered he is fickle.’

  This was news to Molly, though she remained silent.

  ‘So you have spent all your blunt to no good purpose.’

  ‘There is some way to go to the end of the Season. And there is someone else…’

  ‘Then you will be fully occupied, I do not doubt, and poor Molly will be left out in the cold, as usual.’

  Molly was shocked to hear her godmother speak to her mother like that, and she could not let her mama take all the blame. ‘Aunt, it is not Mama’s fault,’ she put in. ‘I arrived inopportunely and spoiled it all for her. I will come back to Norfolk with you and not bother her again.’

  ‘Fustian!’ She paused to look at Molly. ‘I ain’t going back to Norfolk, not yet. And don’t look so Friday-faced; you shall have your come-out.’

  Molly looked from her godmother to her mother in surprise. Her ladyship was smiling but her mother continued to look uncomfortable. ‘Lady Connaught has offered to sponsor you,’ she said.

  ‘Oh.’ Her initial delight was tempered with doubt. The prospect of going out and about and meeting other young people was no longer the epitome of her ambition. In truth, she would not have minded in the least if Lady Connaught had insisted on taking her back to Stacey Manor. The Season had lost its magic. It had faded the minute she realised how much she loved Duncan Stacey and how hopeless it was. ‘But I do not wish to embarrass Mama and…’

  ‘Any embarrassment she endures has been brought on by her own silliness,’ her ladyship said. ‘I should never have agreed to it in the first place. Now, Harriet, you will give up this house. I wonder at you taking it on when it is so far above your touch. You will be dished up before the Season is out…’

  ‘I could not allow the world to think I was a pauper…’

  Her ladyship ignored that. ‘You will both come and stay at Connaught House with me. We will do the thing properly.’

  ‘Did Tony put you up to this?’ Harriet demanded.

  Her ladyship gave a chuckle. ‘Duncan is a mopstraw, doesn’t know what’s good for him, but that don’t mean he’d come rattling to me to set things straight for him. He knows I can’t abide maunderers.’

  Molly could not see what begging had to do with it, but it seemed her mother had lost control of the situation and it was now very firmly in the hands of Lady Connaught. She sat by helplessly as the arrangements were made and the following Saturday accompanied her mother and a mountain of luggage, very little of which belonged to her, to Connaught House. She wondered if Duncan might be there, but he was not. He had moved into a hotel at his grandmother’s insistence.

  It was not because of lack of space, she soon discovered, for the house was huge and several families could have lived in it without encountering one another; it was done, so she was told, for convention’s sake and because the Earl and Countess were expected soon.

  In the next few days Lady Connaught took her shopping for clothes, all of which were modish and expensive, but she preferred the simple garments Duncan had bought her, just because he liked her in them. Rags, her mother had called them, but to Molly they were the stuff of dreams.

  As soon as the ton learned that Lady Connaught was in town and sponsoring her god-daughter, the invitations began to flood in, but it was all too late. Molly found herself at tea parties, picnics and routs and being introduced to other young people, but instead of enjoying their gossip she found it shallow and meaningless. The young ladies simpered and the men were so excessively polite, she wanted to scream at them.

  She saw Duncan occasionally at these gatherings, and sometimes he asked her to dance, or sat beside her at supper and made light conversation. But he was as bad as the rest; he talked inconsequentially about nothing, affecting a style and mannerisms which she was sure were completely alien to him.

  ‘I wonder you are still in town,’ she whispered to him when they chanced to be sitting beside each other at a musical evening. She had been enjoying the music, but was all too aware of the immaculately clad figure beside her.

  Not so long ago he had had pockets to let, but now he was wearing a double-breasted evening coat of black brocade, a shirt and cravat of such whiteness they dazzled the eyes, and shining black shoes. Was he still gambling and winning? Or was the Dark Knight still about his business? But he was not the Dark Knight she reminded herself, so that did not signify.

  ‘How could I leave while you are still gracing the capital with your presence?’

  ‘That is flummery,’ she said as the music came to an end and the audience began to applaud. ‘It does not suit you.’

  He laughed. ‘I thought that was what you wanted. A little attention, you said. And Mr Bellamy seems to succeed with it.’

  ‘I was a ninny to think that was important. I have grown up in the last month.’

  ‘Oh, I do hope not.’ He was looking at her quizzically with his head on one side, his eyes deep pools she could not fathom.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I liked you best as you were. Madcap Molly, game for anything.’

  ‘The Dark Knight would think that, but you must have moved on yourself. Are you not thinking of settling down?’

  ‘Indeed I am. I am going to breed horses.’

  ‘Horses?’ she queried, with an attempt at a laugh. ‘Not children?’

  ‘To have children one must have a wife. At least, if one is not to cause the most outrageous scandal.’

  ‘And is that why you have been seen about town? You are looking for a wife?’

  ‘I do not need to look. I have found the one I want.’

  ‘Oh. Then I wish you joy.’

  ‘Do you?’ he asked softly.

  She forced herself to sit still, though she longed to flee. ‘Yes, naturally I do. And I hope we can still be friends…’

  His laughter was so uninhibited, everyone turned to look at him, but he was unaware of it. ‘Oh, Molly, Molly, you little goose…’ He looked up as a shadow loomed over them. ‘Oh, it’s you, Bellamy. What do you want?’

  Andrew ignored him and spoke to Molly. ‘Miss Martineau, would you take a turn about the room with me?’

  She rose and laid her fingers on his arm, anxious to escape from a situation and emotions she could not control. She hated Duncan Stacey for making her feel the way she did. It was unfair in him to take all her cherished dreams and wreck them with casual words, strew them at her feet and reveal their emptiness. Now she had nothing, not even a sense of adventure, for without him even adventure seemed meaningless.

  She walked sedately round the room, following other couples doing the same thing, only half listening to Andrew’s complaints that she had not kept their tryst and he did not intend
to give up. Molly then became aware that Duncan had left his seat and was taking leave of their hostess. The next minute he was gone and the crowded room seemed suddenly empty.

  It was next day she learned from Lady Connaught that he had left town. ‘He has gone to Manor Farm,’ she said. ‘There are alterations he wishes to make and he has gone to put them in hand.’

  ‘He told me he was going to breed horses,’ Molly said, wondering how she was going to bear having him living with his new wife not two miles distant from Stacey Manor. She was convinced that was where she was bound. Her Season had been a total failure.

  ‘What else did he say?’

  ‘Nothing, except that he had met the lady he wanted for his wife.’

  ‘Did he, now?’ She peered at Molly short-sightedly. ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  ‘I said I wished him joy.’ She spoke flatly. She could not put into words exactly how she felt. She wanted to berate him for his blindness, to shout at him in frustration, at the same time as she longed for him to put his arms about her and kiss her as he had done twice before. The memory of those two kisses would live with her for ever, though they could have meant very little to him.

  ‘I did not ask what you said,’ her godmother said. ‘I asked how you felt.’

  ‘I don’t know. A little sad, I think. He is such a free spirit…’

  ‘You mean a scapegrace.’

  ‘No, I don’t. He is chivalrous and caring and…’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘I do believe you are wearing the willow for him.’

  Molly sighed. ‘Perhaps I am, but there is nothing I can do about it. I cannot make him love me and if there is someone else…’

  ‘Fustian! He does not know his own mind. You must make a push.’

  ‘Oh, no, I could not do that. It would not be fair.’

  ‘All’s fair in love and war,’ her ladyship said bluntly. ‘Men are all children at heart; they need to be told what is best for them.’

  ‘My lady, I do hope you will not say anything like that to him. It will give him an aversion to me and I do so want to remain his friend.’

  ‘Oh, give me patience!’ her ladyship exclaimed. ‘You should have your heads knocked together.’

  Harriet came into the room then, bursting with energy. ‘Lord Brancaster is arranging a party on Saturday to visit Vauxhall Gardens,’ she said. ‘We are all to go.’ She stopped and looked at her daughter. ‘Why the Friday face? It is ungrateful of you to look so solemn when everyone is doing their best to entertain you. Why, I do believe Mr Bellamy suggested the outing to his father in order to please you and you should be happy about it.’

  Molly forced a smile. ‘I am perfectly content, Mama.’

  ‘Good.’ Harriet took her at her word. ‘Now we must decide what to wear. You must be in looks for Lord Brancaster will want to look you over.’

  ‘Mama!’ She was horrified.

  But all her mother did was laugh gaily and take her off to the dressmaker to have a new gown made. It was an open gown of creamy muslin, decorated with pale lemon embroidery over a silk slip. There was a lemon caraco jacket and a chip bonnet trimmed with yellow flowers. ‘The essence of spring,’ her mother said, putting it on Lady Connaught’s account, along with the ruby taffeta gown she had bought for herself. ‘Unsullied youth—Lord Brancaster will like that.’

  ‘What has it to do with him?’

  ‘If you are to make a push to catch the son, you must impress the father, for he holds the purse strings. And besides, there are other reasons…’

  ‘What other reasons?’

  ‘His lordship is a widower and I’ve heard he is looking for a wife.’

  ‘Oh. But I thought you were tired of old men.’

  ‘He is not so very old and age has its compensations. It has a mellowing influence.’

  Molly could not help smiling at this but decided not to comment. What concerned her more was her mother’s conviction that Andrew Bellamy meant to offer for her. She did not want to marry him and must let him down as gently as possible; she hated hurting anyone’s feelings.

  The party, consisting of Lady Connaught, Harriet, Lord Brancaster and Andrew, Lord Tadbury and his sister, Letitia, Lord and Lady Bonchance and their daughter, Naomi, travelled in several coaches to have supper at Rules, before going on to Vauxhall Gardens to listen to the concert and stroll about the lantern-lit gardens before fireworks brought the evening to an end.

  The musicians played with verve and several of the songs were tuneful enough for the audience to join in, but Molly’s thoughts were far away with Duncan in Norfolk and were only brought back to the present when the applause at the end of the concert impinged on her reverie.

  ‘Miss Martineau,’ Andrew said, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand to her. ‘Tadbury and Miss Bonchance are going for a walk before the fireworks start; shall we join them?’

  She looked at her mama, who was sitting beside her with Lord Brancaster on her other side. ‘Go on, child,’ she said, before turning her smile on his lordship again.

  ‘What do you think of the Gardens?’ Andrew asked as they walked slightly ahead of the Marquis of Tadbury who had soon got over his disappointment with Harriet and had fixed his attention on Naomi Bonchance. They were deep in conversation and not paying the least attention to Andrew and Molly.

  ‘I find they are fascinating—so much going on at once and so crowded.’

  ‘They are only crowded near the pavilion, and in the more common walkways. There is more to see than this.’ He waved his arm around him to encompass the pavilion and mown grass, the little hedges and pergolas. ‘Come, I will show you.’

  The Marquis and Naomi had fallen so far behind, they did not notice Andrew take her arm and draw her into one of the less frequented walks where the light of the lanterns did not reach. ‘This is better, don’t you think? I dislike an audience when I have something serious to say.’

  Her heart began to beat uncomfortably; she could see that the walkway was dotted with little arbours and in almost every one there was a couple in each other’s arms and their antics dismayed her. ‘Mr Bellamy, I beg you, let us return to the others. I am not at all sure we should be here.’

  ‘Why not? You know I have lost my heart to you, don’t you?’

  ‘No, I do not.’

  ‘How can you not? I have been most attentive; you cannot deny that.’

  ‘Yes, but I thought…I did not think…’

  ‘Come, let us sit on this seat, while I show you just how much you mean to me.’ He took her hand and pulled her into one of the arbours. ‘I adore you. I need you in my life. I cannot conceive of anything more pleasurable than loving you. The idea consumes me with passion.’

  ‘Mr Bellamy…’

  ‘Call me Andrew, please,’ he murmured, burying his head in her neck and kissing her. ‘If we are to deal well together, you must learn to be easy with me.’

  ‘Mr Bellamy.’ She tried again. ‘I am very sensible of the honour you do me, but I cannot accept…’

  He laughed suddenly but it was not a happy sound and she shivered with apprehension. ‘What a pretty speech, learned by rote, I shouldn’t wonder. And that before you have even heard my offer.’

  ‘Then I have saved you the trouble of making one.’

  He smiled and stroked the back of his finger down her cheek. She was so rigid with inner tension, she could do nothing to prevent it. ‘You are not such a ninny as to believe I had marriage in mind, are you?’

  ‘You haven’t?’ Her words were whispered.

  ‘Of course not. You have nothing to commend you as a wife, no fortune and no breeding, but as a ladybird—that is a different matter. You have exactly the right attributes—beauty, the figure of a goddess, the necessity of making your way in the world, and you do not care what people think of you or you would not go racketing about the countryside with a half-pay soldier and riding in the park astride a horse where the whole ton can see you. Such aplomb! Only a high-cla
ss impure could carry it off.’

  She was beginning to understand. That was why Duncan did not want her! Not as a wife, not as anything. No wonder her mother did not wish to own her! But that did not mean she would succumb to Andrew Bellamy’s blandishments. ‘Sir, you have quite mistaken the matter.’

  ‘No, I do not think so and I will prove it to you.’ He took her face in both his hands and kissed her with more force than finesse.

  She squirmed as his mouth opened and his tongue forced its way between her lips. It was horrible. She grunted and pushed at his shoulders, forcing him to lift his head. ‘Mr Bellamy, please…’

  ‘Oh, I do please. Very much. And so do you.’

  ‘I certainly do not. Let me go at once.’

  ‘Not until you’ve heard me out. You shall have everything a woman could desire, all the clothes and knick-knacks you need, a well-furnished apartment and a carriage. All you have to do is to be there for me when I need you and be agreeable to my friends.’

  ‘If you think I would agree to such an arrangement you are a bigger sousecrown than I took you for,’ she retorted, as angry with herself as she was with him. How could she have been such a fool? ‘I am not at my last prayers yet, and even if I were I would not consent to that.’

  ‘You are unlikely to get a better offer, certainly not from Duncan Stacey, and you would do well to consider it.’

  She stared at him in the gloom. His eyes were pinpoints of light in a dark face; the rest was shadow. She began to be very afraid, but determined not to let him see it. ‘I never will. Please take me back to my mama.’

  ‘Mrs Benbright! She is a demi-rep herself; she will thank me for taking you off her hands. I’ll wager she told you to encourage me.’

  She did not answer; her mother had said something like that, but she had surely not been thinking of anything less than marriage?

  All she wanted to do was escape, but he held both her hands. She forced herself to relax because only that way would he loosen his grip. As soon as he did, she kicked his shins very hard and stamped on his toes. While he yelped with pain, she made good her escape. Down the dark paths she fled, making for the lights she could see in the distance.

 

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