‘Oh I am sorry: yet I know she likes you above all others.’
‘Thank you. I wish I could believe that.’
She put out her hand.
‘It is true. Perhaps she is a little unsure of her own heart, but no one seeing you together could doubt that she adores you.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Yes, truly.’ She sighed. ‘I think you should ride up one day and whisk her away.’
‘Much as I would like to do so, I fear such behaviour would be frowned upon in our civilized times.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Ah, I see I am about to be ousted by an eastern caliph!’
Clarissa saw Lord Alresford approaching, dressed in an exotic eastern costume. He bowed stiffly.
‘Excuse me. I came, Miss Wyckenham, to beg the honour of the next dance with you, if you are not engaged?’
‘And I am very much in the way, am I not?’ said Sir Robert. ‘I shall away to sail the seven seas!’ With a wicked grin and a wink at Clarissa he sauntered off.
Lord Alresford stood looking down at her, and Clarissa sought for something to break the uncomfortable silence.
‘I did not expect to see you here, my lord.’
‘Lady Norwell persuaded me to come – Barnabus is here too, with his wife,’ he added, before she could ask him the question. ‘They are dancing together at this moment.’
‘I am glad.’ She glanced at his costume. ‘An eastern potentate, my lord?’
‘It was Lady Norwell’s idea. She refused to let me wear a domino.’ He smiled at her and for one heart-stopping moment Clarissa remembered their meeting in the wood, when he had opened his eyes and looked at her. She found herself smiling back, quite forgetting everything else until he held out his arm.
‘The next dance is about to start, Miss Wyckenham. Shall we?’
The spell was broken. She was back in the ballroom.
‘Of course, my lord. Though I fear we shall make an odd couple.’
The earl took his place opposite her, bowing as the music began.
‘Are we really so far apart, Miss Wyckenham?’
They circled, bowed, turned, passed, clasped hands, came together and moved apart. Clarissa had never experienced such a dance. Perhaps it was the exotic costumes, but each touch of the earl’s ungloved fingers sent a tingle running through her skin. Her senses were heightened: she was vividly aware of every note played, every step danced. The garish colours of her partner’s dress dazzled her: she heard the laughter around her but she found herself speechless, and danced in silence with her partner. Never had a country dance seemed so long, yet when the music stopped she felt it was too soon.
‘Have you eaten, Miss Wyckenham, may I escort you to supper?’
She nodded, wanting to prolong these new sensations for as long as she could.
‘I – um,’ she swallowed and tried again. ‘Will you be joining Lady Norwell’s party next week, my lord? I believe – that is, Julia told me – she is engaged to attend Lady Maramond’s rout on Tuesday.’
She had to repeat her question, for the earl seemed distracted.
‘Lady Maramond? I-I am not sure – yes, I think … will you be there?’
‘Lady Wyckenham intends to go, sir, and I shall accompany her.’
‘Then, yes, I shall be there.’ He looked round. ‘Barnabus is calling, they want us to join them – do you object?’
As he led her over to Lady Norwell’s table Clarissa did not know whether to be glad or sorry: she felt bewildered by the emotions raging within her. However, the necessity of making polite conversation with Julia and Lady Norwell proved calming and when Lord Alresford returned her to the ballroom she had regained much of her serene manner, and her fingers trembled only a little as his lips brushed across them.
A grey dawn was breaking when Lady Wyckenham’s carriage made its way back to Charlotte Street and, as they rattled over the cobbles, Mama-Nell apologized to Clarissa for leaving her alone for most of the evening. Clarissa was quick to respond.
‘Pray do not make yourself uneasy, ma’am,’ she said ‘There were so many friends and acquaintances present that I was never lonely, I assure you.’
‘I know, my love, but much as I adore masquerades I am well aware that many use it as an excuse to behave with impropriety.’
Thinking of her dance with Lord Alresford, Clarissa realized how easily she could have been led into impropriety herself, had the gentleman been willing. She found herself sighing.
‘I was never subjected to anything of that nature, Mama-Nell.’
‘It was not what I had planned,’ continued my lady fretfully, ‘but Lord Ullenwood monopolized me for so much of the evening.’
‘I saw him take you down to supper.’
Lady Wyckenham shuddered.
‘I did not wish it; indeed, I would have refused him, but—’
‘I know, Mama-Nell. The letters.’ Clarissa hesitated, then said slowly, ‘I talked with Sir Robert Ingleton this evening: I wanted so much to tell him about the marquis.’
‘Clarissa, you did not!’
‘No, Mama-Nell, but I feel sure if he knew—’
‘If he knew he would despise me!’ cried Lady Wyckenham. ‘I could not bear that.’
‘Then you do care for him.’
For several moments there was silence.
‘Yes, I do,’ whispered Lady Wyckenham at last. ‘But until those letters are destroyed I will not tell him so.’
‘But he might be able to help you.’
‘Really, Clarissa. I am no blushing maiden, begging to be rescued from every little predicament.’
‘This is hardly a little predicament, Mama-Nell.’
‘All the more reason not to involve Sir Robert,’ retorted my lady. ‘I am a grown woman, and will extricate myself from this mess – with the help of my friends, of course.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When the ladies of the Belles Dames Club met again it was at Lady Gaunt’s house in Grosvenor Square, the Viscountess declaring that she was far too fatigued to put on a mask again that week and that everyone should come to her.
Lady Wyckenham and Clarissa duly arrived at the Gaunt mansion, suitably enveloped from head to toe in their dominos. They were shown into the drawing-room by Grantham, and Clarissa immediately noticed that their hostess’s little black page was missing. When she enquired, Lady Gaunt merely smiled.
‘Samuel? I have sent him up to bed. The novelty wears off, you see, as with anything.’ She directed a lively glance at Clarissa. ‘Besides, young Grantham is so much more useful, don’t you think? He has adapted very well to his – ah – duties. Of course, I do not let him clean the silver. It makes the hands so terribly rough, I understand.’
Clarissa laughed.
‘Dorothea, you are incorrigible. What will the Viscount say when he finds out?’
‘Oh when he returns to town I shall send Grantham off to make his way in the world: just now he is accumulating a nice little sum towards his – ah – retirement.’ She broke off as more members of the club arrived and as soon as they were all assembled, she dismissed the servants and the ladies divested themselves of their masks with a collective sigh of relief.
Clarissa lost no time in explaining the reason for the meeting. As she had expected, the ladies were all eager to help Lady Wyckenham, but not one of them could offer a way to recover the letters. Lady Gaunt’s heavy lids drooped as she pondered the problem.
‘Ullenwood is not unattractive,’ she mused. ‘Perhaps I should seduce him.’
Julia stared at her with wide-eyed innocence.
‘Would he give you the letters?’
Lady Gaunt shrugged her white shoulders and said wickedly, ‘I have no idea.’
The ladies laughed, but Alicia Greynard’s little hand formed itself into a fist and she banged on the arm of her chair.
‘The man is wholly unprincipled,’ she said fiercely. ‘He should be punished for putting poor Helen through this torment. If I
had my way I’d – I’d rip out his tongue!’
‘That is hardly the way to make him tell you where the letters are,’ retorted Letitia Leighton-Kettering ‘Come, ladies, let us be sensible. He told Helen his letters were in a bank vault: do we know his bankers?’
Lady Wyckenham blinked at her.
‘Heavens, Letitia, do you mean to break in and steal my letters?’
‘Of course not, my dear, but between us we might know someone within the bank, a nephew, perhaps, or a relative of one of our servants?’
Sally Matlock nodded.
‘That is very good, Letitia. We must discover which bank he uses.’
‘And how do we do that?’ demanded Lady Wyckenham. ‘Surely you do not expect me to ask him?’
‘No, no, Helen,’ said Letitia. ‘I think that we should ask our menfolk. No need to tell them why we want to know.’
‘I will ask Barnabus,’ said Julia, ‘but he is not of Lord Ullenwood’s set.’
‘Neither is Toby,’ said Lady Sarah, ‘but perhaps if I am very nice to him he would ask his friends – discreetly, of course.’
Lady Gaunt nodded.
‘Very well. We will try to discover his bank.’
Mrs Flooke had been pondering the problem, and now she said, ‘Even if we could find his vault, I do not see how we could get into it, not without breaking the law.’
A despondent silence filled the room.
‘Well,’ said Lady Gaunt at last, ‘first let us see what we can discover. After all, it is the only plan we have at the moment.’
‘There is another way,’ said Lady Wyckenham unhappily. ‘I could agree to his terms.’
This brought such a vehement chorus of disagreement that my lady threw up her hands. ‘But I do not have much time: I have to give him an answer before the end of the month!’
Lady Gaunt nodded. ‘We must move quickly. We will all be at Augusta’s rout on Tuesday: we will meet there to report our progress.’
The meeting broke up early, the ladies promising to make what enquiries they could concerning Lord Ullenwood. They all left Grosvenor Square in reflective mood but Clarissa at least refused to be downhearted.
‘We will come about, Mama-Nell, you will see,’ she said stoutly. ‘The ladies of the Belles Dames Club will not allow one man to defeat them.’
Across the darkened carriage she heard her stepmama’s tinkling laugh and hoped that she had raised her spirits at least a little.
They did not speak again until the carriage pulled up in Charlotte Street, but when they walked into the hall, Lady Wyckenham looked about her in bewilderment at the unaccustomed activity. Two footmen were heaving a large trunk up the stairs and the butler was giving instructions to a third for the disposal of the various small bags and boxes that littered the hall.
‘Simmons, what on earth is happening?’
‘Lord Wyckenham has arrived, ma’am.’
‘William, here?’ squeaked my lady.
Simmons allowed himself a rare, fatherly smile.
‘Indeed, ma’am. He arrived not five minutes since. He is in the drawing-room, madam.’
Lady Wyckenham stared at Clarissa.
‘Now what on earth can have brought your brother to town?’
‘I have no idea, Mama-Nell, but I will go to him immediately.’
‘Yes, do,’ said my lady, accompanying her up the stairs. ‘I shall speak to Mrs Simmons, to make sure the best bedchamber is prepared for him. Make my excuses, Clarissa, and tell William I shall join you both directly.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
‘William, my dear. This is such a surprise!’ Clarissa hurried forward, hands outstretched towards her brother. ‘But it is too bad of you, why did you not send word that you were coming, and we would have been here to meet you?’
Lord Wyckenham bent to place a chaste kiss upon her expectant cheek. He was a tall, spare gentleman, some ten years older than Clarissa. His dark colouring was the sum total of the likeness between brother and sister. His demeanour was serious and he had developed a manner that he liked to call statesmanlike, but which his sister thought pompous. However, she was fond of her brother and she embraced him in an impetuous fashion that made him wince.
‘Good evening, Clarissa. I hope I do not need to wait for an invitation to visit my own house?’
‘Of course not, but we would not have gone out, had we known you were coming, and Mama-Nell would have given orders for your rooms to be prepared. As it is, she is gone now to speak to Mrs Simmons and will join us after. While we wait, William, will you not sit down, or perhaps you would like me to order you supper?’
‘Thank you but no, on both counts. I have been travelling since dawn and stopped to dine on the road.’ He exhaled and said repressively, ‘I have come directly from Bath.’
Clarissa’s eyes twinkled.
‘That is as I would expect, Brother, since you wrote to tell us you were going there a week ago. Is your business complete now?’
‘No, but I was obliged to postpone it following the alarming reports I have received.’
‘My dear William, is Mr Pitt’s government about to fall? Does that mean you will not be assured of a place in the next cabinet?’
‘Clarissa, I do wish you would not treat everything with such levity, it is most unbecoming. The reports concern Lady Wyckenham.’
‘Mama-Nell?’ Clarissa’s immediate thought was that Lord Ullenwood had published the damning letters, but common sense told her it could not be so.
‘Yes. I have been most shocked by what I heard in Bath.’
She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, saying cautiously, ‘And what have you heard, Brother?’
For a long moment he looked down at her, frowning, until Clarissa said with a touch of impatience, ‘My dear William, I am three and twenty, I am no longer a child. If you are wondering whether your revelations will shock me, you may be easy.’
His frown deepened and he began to pace the carpet, his hands clasped behind his back.
‘There are rumours,’ he said, ‘that our stepmother has started a club – a clandestine group – exclusively for females. The Belles Dames Club.’ His mouth twisted in distaste.
‘Indeed? And how comes it that you have heard of it, William, if it is so secret?’
‘Things have a way of becoming known, Sister. If members of this club do not speak of it you may be sure their servants will talk. Of course, it is unlikely that you know anything of this matter, but you may have seen some of its members here – I understand Mrs Flooke and her sister attend regularly, as does Viscountess Gaunt and Lady Sarah Matlock. All married women. They have nothing in common with you, my dear.’
Clarissa felt her temper rising at his complaisant tone.
‘It so happens that I do know of this, William. I am a member.’
He stopped pacing to stare at her, open-mouthed.
‘Do you mean to tell me that – that our stepmother has drawn you into her nefarious activities?’
‘There is nothing nefarious about it: we meet for our own amusement, that’s all.’
‘Amusement!’ Two spots of colour burned on his cheeks. ‘It is all over Bath that Mama-in-law has turned her house into a gaming hell.’
‘Oh, William, how like you to listen to tittle-tattle and give it credence! It is nothing of the sort. You refine too much upon it.’
‘Oh do I? Well, Sis, do you know what they are calling this club? Not the Belles Dames Club, I can tell you! No, it’s the Bedlam Club, which is not at all the same thing!’
‘No, it is mere mischief-making. I assure you, William, it is all very innocent.’ Clarissa crossed her fingers in the folds of her gown.
‘Well, I cannot like it, Sister, and so I shall tell Mama-Nell. And if she persists in this nonsense then I shall send you off to live with your Aunt Fanny in Deal.’
Clarissa stared at him, horrified. Lady Wyckenham’s musical voice broke the tense silence.
‘William, my love, I am
sorry I have been so long, but your trunks had been taken to the guest room, you know, and I have had everything moved to the Blue room. After all, it was your father’s bedchamber and yours now, by right.’ She came forward as she spoke, holding out her hands to him. As he bent to kiss her fingers, the look she gave Clarissa over his head was brimful of merriment.
Lord Wyckenham straightened and said stiffly, ‘Thank you, madam. I shall not be staying many nights.’
‘But this is very sudden, my dear.’ Lady Wyckenham sank down on to a sofa and disposed her skirts about her. ‘From your last letter I made sure you would be in Bath at least until June.’
‘And I should be there now, madam, if I had not been so disturbed by the reports I have received.’
‘Oh dear,’ my lady was all sympathy. ‘How tiresome for you.’
‘It is indeed, ma’am, and worrying, too, since these reports concern you.’
She fixed him with her limpid blue eyes.
‘Me? My dear William, what on earth have I to do with anything?’
As he fought to control his indignation, Clarissa said gently, ‘William has heard of the Belles Dames Club, Mama-Nell.’
‘Oh is that all?’ exclaimed Lady Wyckenham, her brow clearing.
‘No, ma’am, that is not all,’ snapped William. ‘The tales that reached me have been of a most shocking nature.’
‘You have been listening to gossip, William. Never advisable, and Bath is the very worst place for it. I think it is because there are so many sick people there, with nothing better to do.’
Lord Wyckenham strode up to the sofa and stood, towering over his stepmother.
‘Do you deny, madam, that you have formed this – this club?’
‘No, William, of course not.’
‘And that your members meet here, in secret?’
She smiled up at him.
‘Well, we did wish to be discreet, but it can hardly be a secret, my love, if you learned of it in Bath.’
He drew a breath and made a visible effort to speak calmly.
‘Mama-Nell, it will not do! This club is the on-dit of the moment – the most scandalous stories abound, and now Clarissa tells me that you have made her a party to it all.’
The Belle Dames Club Page 11