Dismounting on the drive of Norwell House, Sir Howard looked about him in some surprise. By the light of the flaring torches burning on either side of the door he could see the grounds were deserted. He looked up as the door was opened by a lanky serving woman.
‘Ah – your mistress is expecting me,’ he said. ‘Is there someone to look to my horse?’
The woman bobbed a curtsy.
‘Madam thought it best to send the servants off for the night, sir.’ Sir Howard felt his excitement rising. The maid waved vaguely towards a hedge. ‘If your lordship will tie the reins to that bush he’ll be safe enough. Then if you’d be good enough to follow me.’
Sir Howard almost skipped up the steps. The door was shut firmly behind him and he found himself in a large, echoing hall.
‘Where is your mistress?’
Silently the servant picked up a single candle and led the way up the stairs. Sir Howard followed, his eyes dwelling on the shadowy figure. She was too thin for his taste – in general he preferred plump, rosy-cheeked maids – but the woman walked with a certain sway to her hips that was definitely alluring: he smiled to himself. Perhaps when he had finished with the mistress he would give her a tumble, it might be amusing.
There were no lights burning on the half-landing, and by the time they reached the first floor the only illumination came from the maid’s single candle She led Sir Howard through a series of passages, twisting and turning, then down another set of stairs until he was quite bewildered.
‘How much further?’
‘We’re here now, sir. Madam was not wishful that you should be shown into her husband’s chamber, her being a very modest lady, you understand.’
‘No, no, of course not.’ Sir Howard licked his lips at the thought of the treat before him. He adored modest ladies, and enjoyed discovering the charms previously reserved for their husbands.
The maid opened a side door and led him into a small bedchamber.
‘Now, sir, if you please. Mrs Norwell wishes me to undress you.’
‘Undr – oh, aye, aye.’
‘She is wishful to come to you as any bride would do,’ muttered the servant, helping him out of his coat.
‘A b-bride?’ breathed Sir Howard, and felt almost giddy at the thought. Bless the little angel! He struggled out of his waistcoat and gave a yelp when he felt the maid’s hands at the waist of his breeches.
‘Everything is to come off, sir. Madam was very particular.’
‘Yes, yes, I will do it.’
His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches while the maid unfastened the ribbons at his knees and began to roll down his stockings. Then he was standing on the cold boards, naked except for his fine lawn shirt. He shifted from one foot to the other, his eagerness barely concealed.
‘Well, tell your mistress I am ready for her.’
The maid scooped up the discarded clothes and tucked them under one arm.
‘Aye, I’ll tell her.’
She picked up the candle and whisked herself out of the room.
Sir Howard stood very still. The room was dark and his eyes did not seem to adjust to the gloom. He realized that the shutters had been closed, allowing only a faint grey line to show the outline of the window. It was impossible to see across the room. He gave a little cough.
‘Mistress?’ He called tentatively. ‘Mrs Norwell, my little bird? Are you there?’
He heard her voice. It was very faint, and seemed to be coming from the far side of the room. Bless her, she sounded nervous.
‘Oh sir … I am here, in the next room … can you find the door?’
Sir Howard stepped forward, cursing as his shin collided with a small stool and sent it skittering across the floor. He stopped, then began to move forward again, his hands stretched before him as he felt his way across the room. He found he was shaking with excitement, picturing the lovely Julia: would she be en negligée, as he had seen her at the window when he arrived, or was she already undressed? He felt himself growing hard at the mere thought of it. She must be such a romantic little puss to go to so much trouble. Here was a pleasure he had not anticipated.
‘Oh hurry, sir, where are you?’
Again the breathless voice sounded from the next room, and the soft scurrying sound of movement. Two more steps brought him to the wall, a little fumbling found the door and he grasped the handle. It turned easily and opened on to more darkness. He frowned.
‘Madam? Are you there?’
‘Yes, yes, at the end of the passage – hurry, dear sir!’
A passage! Despite his excitement he felt his patience growing a little thin.
‘My dear madam, is this really necessary? Pray bring a candle out to me.’
‘Oh I dare not risk any of the servants seeing you. Perhaps I should not have given in to the temptation….’
‘No, no, my love, wait there – I shall be with you directly.’
Sir Howard reached out his hands to each side. Yes, he could feel the wall on his right and, yes, if he reached a little to the left he could touch the wall there. He moved a few steps forward, his bare feet padding on the wooden boards. He began to move with more confidence. Ahead of him was a dim bar of light beneath a door. At last. His outstretched hands touched the solid wood and he hurriedly felt around for the handle. Moments later he was pulling the door open. He blinked.
‘What is this, madam – are you outside?’ He stepped out of the door and found himself in a paved yard at the back of the house. ‘Madam I—’
The door slammed shut behind him. As he swung round he heard the bolts scrape into position.
‘Julia? What is this – enough of this jest, madam, let me in.’
‘’Tis no jest, Sir Howard.’
He frowned. It was a woman’s voice, but not Julia’s sweet tones. This was a much stronger voice, and full of laughter.
‘Let it be a lesson to you not to prey on young women who do not wish for your attentions.’
‘What is this – what game are you playing? Let me in, I say, and give me my clothes.’
‘No, sir – you will get nothing here tonight. You had best go home.’
‘I cannot ride without my breeches!’
Sounds of smothered laughter came from the house and Sir Howard realized there was more than one voice behind the door. He cursed roundly and stamped his foot, stubbing his toe as he did so.
‘God damn you – I will not leave without my clothes.’
‘Your horse is where you left him.’ The reply was curt, indifferent. ‘Go now before Mr Norwell and his party return. You might find it difficult to explain why you are wandering around his house half-naked.’
Sir Howard stared at the door. His earlier excitement had gone, replaced with a growing sense of desperation. The door looked too solid to give way, and the windows were all shuttered. There was no way he could get back into the house. Cursing, he began to make his way round to the front drive. The gravel was sharp beneath his feet, making him gasp, and the cool night air seemed to taunt him as it fluttered his shirt. He had just reached his horse when he heard the sound of a carriage approaching. Turning, he saw the bobbing lights of the link boys running down the drive ahead of the horses. He pulled at the reins, but instead of coming free they tightened themselves into a knot. In desperation he tugged again, harder this time, snapping the branch so that the reins came away, still knotted around a leafy stick.
The carriage had come to a halt by now and Sir Howard heard a smothered exclamation as Barnabus Norwell jumped down on to the drive. Sir Howard wished the link boys would move away with their flaring torches, but they stood their ground, grinning. They seemed intent on illuminating him as fully as possible.
‘What the devil is going on here? Marius – your pistol. We have an intruder. Ladies, please wait in the coach.’
Sir Howard abandoned his attempts to mount his horse and turned.
‘Norwell, d-don’t shoot – I am not a robber!’
His voice came out in a squeak. The wind decided at that moment to blow a little stronger and Sir Howard had to give his attention to catching the edge of his shirt and holding it down.
‘Besthorpe?’ Barnabus’s jaw dropped. ‘What the deuce are you playing at?’ he demanded, trying not to laugh.
Sir Howard’s anger boiled over. He pointed accusingly towards the house.
‘They tricked me!’ he cried shrilly. ‘They took my clothes, exposing me to ridicule – it is not to be borne!’
Mr Norwell looked bemused.
‘Who tricked you?’
‘Your wife sir! Your wife and her friends!’
‘You have been here trying to seduce my wife?’
There was no trace of humour in Mr Norwell’s face now.
Sir Howard eyed his clenched fists with trepidation, but he could not prevent himself from screeching, ‘She tricked me! The little vixen told me to come at ten o’clock, because you would be from home, and she has led me a merry dance through the house, stealing my clothes, the doxy—’
He got no further. With a roar Barnabus launched himself forward and Sir Howard felt two strong hands around his throat, squeezing until the blood thrummed in his ears. He felt a hot searing pain behind his eyes, his hands scrabbled in vain to prise the fingers from his neck, then the next instant he was released and he fell to his knees, coughing and spluttering. Through his watering eyes he saw Lord Alresford gripping Norwell’s arms.
‘Enough, Barny, it would not do to kill him.’
‘You are right, Marius, though at this moment I would dearly love to give him a thrashing. If you have harmed my wife, sir—’
Sir Howard struggled to his feet.
‘No, no, I didn’t touch her – never saw her, save through a window.’
Lord Alresford stepped between them.
‘I suggest, Besthorpe, that you go home. I’d wager you have been up to mischief here and if you have been bested then all the better.’
‘Aye,’ growled Mr Norwell, ‘Get off my land, before I put a bullet through your sorry hide.’
With a whimper Sir Howard scrambled up into the saddle. He heard muted giggling coming from the interior of the carriage, and hurriedly tucked his shirt about him before setting his horse at a canter along the drive, his exit spurred on by the sounds of laughter carried on the night air.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘Sally – I hear them on the stairs, come and sit down.’
Reluctantly Lady Sarah came away from the window.
‘You need not worry, Dorothea. No one saw me. I opened the shutter the merest crack, and besides, they were all too intent upon Sir Howard.’
‘Did Barnabus really set upon him?’ asked Julia, her eyes shining.
‘Truly,’ replied Lady Sarah. ‘Besthorpe was shouting so loud that you all heard him, and when he mentioned you, Julia, Barnabus leapt upon him like a tiger. Alresford had to pull him off.’
‘Oh dear, and has Sir Howard gone now?’
Lady Sarah came up behind Mrs Norwell and gave her a hug.
‘Yes, yes he has gone, my dear. Riding bare-behind all the way to London town.’ Lady Gaunt, who had been distributing cards around the table, looked up, smiling. ‘With his shirt billowing around him and his legs all dangling down-oh?’
‘Exactly!’
Clarissa waved a hand.
‘Hush, they are here. Quickly now, Sally, come and sit down before they come in.’ Lady Sarah slipped on to her chair and had just picked up her cards when the door opened and Lady Norwell sailed into the room. When she saw the ladies sitting around the card table she stopped, blinking.
‘Well, bless my soul!’
Julia looked up at her.
‘You are back early, ma’am. Was the play not to your liking?’
‘No, ’twas very poor stuff, my love, and Barnabus was fretting over you, so we did not wait for the entertainment, and since Lord Alresford had kindly agreed to take us in his carriage, he was obliged to leave early too.’
Clarissa was frowning at her cards, pretending to study her hand, but she was aware of Mrs Eastwood hurrying in behind her mama and Mr Norwell almost pushing past them to come up to his wife.
‘Julia, what the devil is going on here?’ he demanded. ‘When I left you were prostrate with the headache.’
‘And so she will be again if you continue to shout,’ remarked Lady Gaunt. ‘You can see she is still a little pale, Barnabus.’
From the corner of her eye Clarissa watched Lord Alresford come in and close the door behind him.
Mr Norwell’s jaw tightened at Lady Gaunt’s words but he said as calmly as he could, ‘If you will excuse me for saying so, ma’am, that does not explain your presence here.’
‘We drove out to the tea rooms at Kensington today, and stopped to take pot luck with Julia on our way back. Of course, when we found she was so poorly we stayed to keep her company until your return. I think you will agree, Barnabus, that we have cheered her up considerably.’
Clarissa admired Lady Gaunt’s masterly approach. Barnabus did not look convinced, but could hardly say so.
‘And you have had no other visitors?’ asked Lady Norwell.
‘N-no.’ Julia shook her head. ‘I sent the servants away, because I did not want to be disturbed, so if anyone had come, they would have had to go away again. We have kept to this room all evening.’
Mrs Eastwood clapped her hands together.
‘Well, you will never guess what we found when we arrived – such a thing, I vow I am so pleased we did not stay for the farce for this was so much better! A naked man outside the house!’
‘N-naked?’ squeaked Julia.
‘Margaret, do not exaggerate.’ Lady Norwell admonished her daughter. ‘He was wearing a shirt.’
‘It was Sir Howard Besthorpe,’ added Margaret.
Barnabus stared at her.
‘You recognized him?’
‘Oh yes.’ Mrs Eastwood grimaced. ‘Horrid man. He was used to follow me everywhere when I was last in town, until I asked Edward to put an end to it.’
Smothering an oath, Barnabus turned to his wife.
‘Has be been pestering you, Julia? Why did you not tell me?’
Julia’s soft eyes filled with tears.
‘I did not wish to trouble you….’
He was at her side immediately, dropping to his knees beside her chair.
‘You never trouble me, my dear. There, there. Don’t cry. I have sent him to the right about now.’ He took out his handkerchief and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘In future, my love, I want you to come to me with any little problem. Promise me.’
‘But I don’t understand,’ cried Lady Norwell. ‘Why should the man be parading around the house? Did you not hear or see anything?’
Lady Sarah waved towards the shuttered window.
‘We had no interest in the outside world tonight, ma’am.’
‘I thought I heard a dog barking,’ offered Clarissa.
‘If there was any noise outside I am sure we dismissed it as the servants.’ Lady Gaunt glanced across the table at Julia, deep in whispered conversation with her husband. She rose to her feet. ‘I think it is time we took our leave. I think our presence here now is definitely de trop. Please send for my carriage, Barnabus, and we will be away. Julia says you will not be at Lady Sarah’s little poetry evening, so I do not know when we shall meet again.’
Lord Alresford had so far remained silent, but now he moved forward.
‘It was very good of you to stay and keep Mrs Norwell company. So fortunate that she should be able to admit you, when all the servants had been dismissed for the evening.’
‘Oh, the – the footman was still in the hall at that time,’ said Julia.
The earl inclined his head at her, then turned towards Clarissa.
‘Where did you say you had been today?’
Clarissa froze, her mind a blank.
She heard Lady Gaunt replying casually, �
��The tea rooms at Kensington, Alresford. So you see, we were passing the door. But we must trespass upon you no longer. Come ladies.’
‘Such a deal of travelling you have done today, my lady. You must be exhausted,’ remarked Lord Alresford, in his smooth, unemotional way. ‘Allow me to be of assistance. I will escort Miss Wyckenham to Charlotte Street.’
Clarissa gasped.
‘No, no, my lord, we will not trouble you—’
‘No trouble at all,’ he interrupted her. ‘Lady Gaunt’s destination is Grosvenor Square, is it not? Mine, on the other hand, is Bedford Square, so Charlotte Street is not at all out of my way.’
The earl was standing a little behind Lady Norwell and her daughter, and only Clarissa saw his hand reach into his pocket and pull forth a fine blue ribbon: just such a ribbon as adorned Sir Howard Besthorpe’s knee-breeches. She swallowed.
‘How – how kind of you, sir. I will be delighted to accept your offer and save my friends an added journey.’ She was aware of the surprised looks this speech received, but there was no opportunity to explain. Lord Alresford was holding her cloak, goodbyes were said and she found herself sitting opposite the earl in his luxurious town coach before Lady Gaunt’s carriage had even pulled on to the drive. Clarissa clasped her hands nervously before her.
‘It – it was very good of you to take me up, my lord.’
‘Good be damned. You know why you are here.’
She felt her pulse racing at his words. Was he planning to ravish her? Clarissa was shocked to find the idea quite exciting. Resolutely she pushed the thought away. She said, trying to keep her tone cool, ‘No, sir. I have no idea why I am here, if it is not to be taken home.’
‘I want you to tell me just what occurred tonight.’ He held the ribbon up to the window, so that she could see it in the pale moonlight. ‘This I found on the stairs.’
‘Oh.’
‘It is the ribbon from a man’s knee-breeches.’ Clarissa remained silent. ‘Did you lure Besthorpe into the house?’
Clarissa considered her situation. The earl was no fool and it was clear he had already formed quite an accurate idea of what had happened.
‘You will be aware,’ she said slowly, ‘that Sir Howard has been pursuing Mrs Norwell for some time.’
The Belle Dames Club Page 8