The Belle Dames Club

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The Belle Dames Club Page 3

by Melinda Hammond


  ‘Oh I am so sorry.’ She looked again at his dark frock-coat, the lack of fobs and seals dangling across the front of his champagne-coloured waistcoat. ‘It was very recent, I think?’

  ‘Six years ago. You look surprised, Miss Wyckenham.’

  ‘I am. I thought from your demeanour—’ She broke off, at a loss how to continue. A recent bereavement would explain his sober appearance and stern looks, but six years! Clarissa thought his affections must have been very deep to produce such a period of mourning. They remained silent until the dance ended, and they were making their way off the floor before the earl spoke again.

  ‘You may have found me a little lacking in grace, when we met in the wood at Tottenham, Miss Wyckenham.’

  ‘Naturally I put that down to your fall, sir. I trust you are fully recovered?’

  ‘I was a little bruised, no more.’ They had come up to Lady Wyckenham. Lord Alresford raised Clarissa’s fingers to his lips. ‘I was very grateful for your assistance that day, ma’am. I am in your debt.’

  Clarissa shook her head.

  ‘No, no,’ she said, with her delightful smile. ‘I would not have you under an obligation to me, sir. Consider the debt paid off with the dance.’

  Lady Wyckenham, who had listened to the exchange in growing wonder, watched him walk away.

  ‘Well, what is this, my dear? What was the obligation?’

  Briefly Clarissa explained their encounter in the wood, and at the end of it her stepmama tapped her arm in exasperation.

  ‘And you did not think to tell me of it?’

  ‘You will recall, Mama-Nell, the inopportune timing of my arrival in Charlotte Street. Events there quite pushed it from my mind.’

  ‘Well, to have Alresford in your debt is a coup, my love,’ returned Lady Wyckenham, ‘although I have to say he is not to my taste. He never smiles. His face is so sharp you could cut yourself upon it, and one would take him for a radical, his hair is so short!’

  ‘And worse you can say of no one ma’am. But I agree he is an oddity. When we met I thought him taciturn, but put it down to the circumstances. Having danced with him, I see it is his natural way.’

  My lady patted her hand.

  ‘Then let us forget him, for I see Julia Norwell sitting over there, by the window, and I must introduce you.’

  Lady Wyckenham led her towards a fair-haired young woman in orange silk, sitting alone on a sofa in one corner of the room. A stout gentleman in mulberry satin stood at her side, bending to address some remark, but Clarissa did not miss the look of unease on the young woman’s face, or the way she shrank away from the speaker. They were now too close for Clarissa to enquire who the gentleman might be, and as they came up to Julia, he turned and sauntered off, the blue string fastenings of his knee breeches bouncing around his legs. Lady Wyckenham made the introductions but almost immediately her attention was claimed by a group of friends and she turned away, leaving Clarissa and Mrs Norwell smiling shyly at one another.

  ‘Won’t you sit down beside me, Miss Wyckenham?’ Mrs Norwell patted the sofa. ‘I understand you have been living with your sister?’

  ‘Yes, I have been her companion for the past few years while her husband has been away with the army. However he is now returned, and my presence is no longer necessary – they are as inseparable as a pair of newlyweds!’

  ‘Your sister is fortunate to have such a husband.’ Mrs Norwell sounded a little wistful, but observing Clarissa’s puzzled look she smiled brightly. ‘Tell me what you mean to do in town. Is Lady Helen – Lady Wyckenham I mean – to present you at Court?’

  ‘Goodness, no. She was kind enough to present me years ago, but that visit was cut short by the death of my father. I am here now merely to enjoy a little society with my stepmama. She has promised to take me to Paris with her next year. You know that Mama-Nell can never be in one place for very long.’

  Mrs Norwell smiled.

  ‘She has a great deal of energy. But I will not hear a word against her: she is a very good friend to me, and if she does go abroad I shall miss her sorely.’

  A young gentleman approached and shyly reminded Mrs Norwell that the next dance was promised to him. Clarissa watched her new friend go off to dance and hoped that she might find at least one more partner before the evening was over. Hardly was the thought formed than she saw Mama-Nell bringing another gentleman over to meet her, and after that she did not sit down at the side of the room again.

  It seemed to Clarissa that her dance with Alresford was her entrée into Society. Her hand was solicited for every remaining dance. Several turbaned matrons smiled and nodded at her as she passed, but she did not recognize them and could only surmise that they were members of the Belles Dames Club. Thoroughly enjoying herself, Clarissa was alive to the bustle and movement of the room. She noticed Mrs Norwell dancing once with her husband, her flower-like countenance glowing with happiness, a look which had quite disappeared the next time Clarissa saw her, for she was dancing with the gentleman in the mulberry coat. Upon enquiry, Clarissa’s partner informed her that the gentleman was Sir Howard Besthorpe. The name meant nothing to Clarissa, but she was aware of a moment’s anxiety for Julia. However, her partner was speaking, and Clarissa gave him her attention, resolving to seek out Julia later in the evening.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lady Wyckenham watched her stepdaughter’s progress with growing approbation. How right she had been to bring the girl.

  ‘So that’s Wyckenham’s daughter.’

  The quiet voice at her side made her turn quickly, a wide smile lighting her face. She held out her hands.

  ‘Robert! Robert – is it really you? Oh my dear friend, I thought you were still at sea. I did not expect you for another two weeks at least.’

  Sir Robert Ingleton laughed as he lifted first one hand then the other to his lips.

  ‘We had a fair wind and favourable tides. Besides, I could stay away no longer, madam, and you do not disappoint: you are every bit as bewitching as when I left these shores four years ago.’

  Her fingers fluttered in his grasp, but she frowned and shook her head at him.

  ‘Pray do not attempt to flirt with me, Robert, we have known each other far too long for that. Tell me instead when you arrived in London, and why you did not call to tell me you are safe ashore.’

  His dark eyes laughed down at her.

  ‘We docked at noon, ma’am, and upon learning from your admirable Simmons that you had gone out, I came to find you.’

  Lady Wyckenham eyed him cautiously. It was too absurd to believe he had come to Orpington House expressly to find her, but it was a pleasant thought.

  ‘Dear me, then you must be very weary, sir.’

  ‘Not too weary to dance with you, my lady, an you will.’

  She graciously inclined her head and allowed him to lead her out to join the set that was forming. Only three couples separated her from her stepdaughter, and she was aware of Clarissa regarding her with lively curiosity, but chose to ignore it, hoping that she was not blushing.

  ‘Did you receive my letters?’

  ‘Thank you, yes. You have been a conscientious correspondent.’

  The corners of his mouth lifted at her polite reply.

  ‘As one of the main sponsors of my expedition, you were entitled to regular reports of my progress.’

  ‘My late husband was eager to promote the scientific study of nature. I merely carry on as he would wish.’

  ‘Have you no interest of your own in my progress?’

  She looked up, met his eyes and was obliged to look away again, feeling the warmth spreading over her cheeks.

  ‘Of course. Your letters were most informative. I long to see the new plants you have collected. The Royal Society must be delighted with you.’

  ‘I am promised to meet with Sir Joseph Banks tomorrow, to take my plants to him and set a date for my lecture.’

  ‘You must tell me when that will be and I will come to hear you speak.�
��

  ‘I would much rather tell you privately, ma’am.’ His grip on her hand tightened. ‘Nell—’

  She felt a fluttering of panic rising within her and something of it must have shown in her eyes, for Sir Robert gave a wry smile.

  ‘Very well, nothing more. For now.’

  Lady Helen breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time she felt vaguely disappointed. Her partner behaved with perfect politeness for the remainder of the dance, but, as he escorted her from the floor, he begged her permission to call upon her. Lady Helen hesitated.

  ‘When you left England, Robert, Wyckenham was still alive.’

  ‘I am well aware of that, my dear. But you have been a widow these three years and more. Now there can be no harm in my calling – unless you are going to tell me you have formed another alliance?’

  ‘No, no. But, I have made a life for myself.’

  ‘And it does not include me?’ He guided her to a sheltered alcove and sat down beside her on a vacant sofa. Helen risked another glance at him. If only he would not look at her in that way, with such a wicked glint in his eye, and that faint smile playing about his lips. She opened her fan, then shut it again, her thumb tracing over the intricate carving of the ivory sticks.

  ‘You have been away a long time, Robert.’

  He grinned.

  ‘It was not unexpected, the oceans are very large.’

  ‘Four years, sir. I have changed – you have changed.’

  ‘I do not think I am so very much altered.’ He took the fan from her restless fingers and gripped her hands briefly in one of his own. ‘I understand you, Helen. I have come upon you unawares and you are afraid I will hurry you into saying all the things we could not say while Wyckenham was alive.’ He leaned closer. ‘I loved you then, I love you now, but I can wait until you are sure of your own mind. For now I ask nothing more than friendship from you.’

  She managed a tremulous smile. ‘I should be very glad to give you that.’

  ‘Good.’ He leaned back and closed his eyes, stifling a yawn. ‘Now, I must leave you if I am not to commit the unforgivable crime of falling asleep on Lady Orpington’s sofa. I will visit you as soon as may be possible, but tomorrow we will be bringing the plants ashore, and I must see them despatched to their new homes. I shall be taking some myself to my old friend Gilbert White in Selborne. We have been corresponding, you see, and I promised him I would bring his specimens personally.’

  ‘Then we shall see you when you have completed your duties, Robert.’

  He rose, and with his back to the crowded room he lifted the closed fan to his lips before handing it back to her. ‘Goodnight, Lady Wyckenham. Please make my apologies to your delightful stepdaughter; I shall call upon you shortly to make her acquaintance.’

  On the dance-floor Clarissa had watched her stepmother dancing with the broad-shouldered, distinguished-looking man. Her partner was not sure, but rather thought he was Sir Robert Ingleton, the notable scientist and explorer. Intrigued by her stepmama’s reaction to the gentleman, Clarissa studied him more carefully. Beneath his frock-coat of cut-velvet he had a splendid physique, no sign of portliness strained the buttons of his white waistcoat and the satin knee-breeches fitted snugly over powerful thighs. He wore his own hair brushed into the latest style, and his open, friendly countenance bore the look of a man used to the outdoors. She watched him laughing down at Lady Wyckenham, and thought mischievously that his shoulder was at a most convenient height for the lady to rest her head. Upbraiding herself for being a shameless matchmaker, Clarissa turned back to her own partner, impatient for an interval in the dancing so that she could seek out her stepmama and find out a little more about the mysterious Sir Robert.

  Never had a dance seemed so prolonged to Clarissa, but at length the orchestra stopped playing and she was free to go in search of her quarry. She found Lady Wyckenham standing by one of the open windows, fanning herself vigorously. There was no sign of Sir Robert. Instead, a tall gentleman in a claret-coloured coat was beside her, talking earnestly. As Clarissa approached he broke off.

  ‘Ah, your daughter, I believe, ma’am.’ He made an elegant bow, affording Clarissa an excellent view of his dark hair, flecked with silver and held at the nape of his neck with a diamond clasp. ‘Won’t you introduce me?’

  Lady Wyckenham inclined her head.

  ‘Certainly. Clarissa, my dear, allow me to present the Marquis of Ullenwood to you.’

  Lord Ullenwood reached for Clarissa’s hand and pressed a kiss upon her fingers, then he raised his eyes to look at her. They were very dark, she noticed, almost black, but they held a cold, calculating look that she could not like. ‘Charming, charming. I understand that you have come to live with your mama, Miss Wyckenham. Is it to be a prolonged visit?’

  ‘That I hardly know, my lord.’ She smiled at Lady Wyckenham. ‘I hope it will be so.’

  ‘My stepdaughter has been away too long.’ Lady Wyckenham drew Clarissa towards her and took her arm. ‘I have planned a great many treats for us to enjoy together. I shall be glad of her company.’

  ‘Indeed?’ The marquis smiled, although it seemed to Clarissa that it never reached his eyes. ‘Then I wish you a pleasant sojourn in town, Miss Wyckenham.’ He bowed again. ‘My lady.’

  ‘I cannot like him!’ Clarissa murmured, watching Lord Ullenwood walk away. ‘I’m sorry, I should not speak so of your friends.’

  ‘No longer a friend of mine.’ My lady shuddered. ‘Let us go down to supper. There are several ladies anxious to meet you.’

  ‘Oh? Members of the—’

  Lady Wyckenham shut her fan with a snap and interrupted her.

  ‘Pray learn some discretion, child. It is a necessary requirement for members of our little group.’

  Clarissa’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Then I am a member?’

  Lady Wyckenham gave an exasperated sigh.

  ‘It would seem I have no choice!’

  In the supper-room, Lady Wyckenham and Clarissa joined a group of ladies gathered in one corner, many of whom Clarissa recognized as the matrons who had been nodding to her during the evening. Lady Gaunt was the most striking, dressed in a gown of bronze silk with a matching turban and with a bored, disdainful look upon her face. She waved to a servant to bring more chairs.

  ‘You come at an opportune time,’ she drawled. ‘Alicia is at this moment fetching Julia Norwell. Poor girl has been frightened out of her wits by Howard Besthorpe. The old roué keeps making advances towards her.’

  ‘Ah, the poor child!’ exclaimed Lady Wyckenham. ‘Only let me hear him and I’ll set him to rights!’

  ‘Barnabus should be doing that,’ retorted a lady in purple satin. ‘Why doesn’t someone tell him?’

  Lady Gaunt sighed.

  ‘I would have done so, Letty, but he’s gone off with his cronies and Julia, little fool, told him he might do so and with her blessing!’ She looked up as Julia Norwell approached, leaning on the arm of a large woman dressed in green brocaded silk.

  ‘So you found her, Alicia. Come and sit down, child, and let us decide what is to be done.’

  Mrs Norwell sank limply on to a chair.

  ‘What can be done?’ she said in a sad little voice. ‘We have already agreed; I must be resolute.’

  Looking at the sad little figure drooping in her chair, Clarissa thought she had never seen anyone less resolute in her life. She turned her clear gaze towards Lady Gaunt.

  ‘I am sorry if I appear very stupid tonight, but who is this Sir Howard, and what does he want?’

  ‘Sir Howard Besthorpe is a rich philanderer who preys upon young women,’ explained Lady Wyckenham. ‘He wheedles and cajoles, always careful never to be so blatant that a husband can call him to book, but he chips away at a poor woman’s defences until she is too weary to fight him any longer.’

  ‘Well, it is clear,’ declared Lady Gaunt. ‘He needs to be taught a lesson.’

  ‘Yes, but how, Dorothea?’ sighed Mrs Letitia
Leighton-Kettering, the lady in purple satin.

  Lady Gaunt smiled thinly. ‘I am not sure you really wish to know, yet, what I have in mind, but if Julia will not go to Barnabus—’

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t!’ exclaimed Julia, shrinking into her chair. ‘He – he would think I have been encouraging Sir Howard, and indeed I have not.’

  ‘Well then, we shall lay a trap for Besthorpe,’ said Lady Gaunt, sitting up very straight. ‘Oh don’t look so worried, Julia. All you have to do is to carry on as you are. Just allow me time to plan everything.’

  Dorothea Gaunt could not be persuaded to say more and the group broke up soon after, with a meeting of the Belles Dames Club arranged at Charlotte Street in two days’ time.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After the quiet existence she had led with her sister in Royston, Clarissa found herself pitched headlong into a social whirl which left her little time for reflection. Following the Orpington ball there were any number of invitations to be answered, visits to the mantua-maker and milliner and such drapers and emporia as could be guaranteed to furnish any young lady of fashion with the fabrics, gloves, fans and dancing slippers required for her stay in town. On the day assigned to the next meeting of the Belles Dames Club, Clarissa was engaged to drive out with Lady Sarah and she was therefore unaware of the unusual activity in Charlotte Street. Lady Wyckenham held several prolonged meetings with her steward; delivery men toiled up the stairs to the drawing-room with additional pieces of furniture, while the servants gasped and giggled and shook their heads at the ways of the Quality when they were instructed to put themselves at the disposal of a heavily veiled female who arrived on the doorstep at noon.

  Clarissa returned to the house with only enough time to change for a quiet dinner with her stepmama. During the meal Lady Wyckenham made a half-hearted attempt to persuade Clarissa that she would not wish to join the meeting that evening, and when that failed, she bowed to the inevitable and led the way to the drawing-room.

 

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