by Jayne Davis
“I don’t want to be married for my dowry,” Bella said. None of the options before her was attractive.
“Worry about that if the time comes,” Maria said briskly.
“Papa might marry me off anyway.”
“That’s another risk.”
Bella shook her head. “I don’t think that would work. Who would I say it was? Papa might try to force him to marry me.”
“Think about what I’ve said,” Maria suggested. “Something else may occur to me, or to you.”
“The best idea is your first one—to pretend I have a suitor with a higher rank than Narwood.” Although her father may not necessarily demand a high-ranking suitor, or why would he have pursued Mr Carterton for Lizzie two years ago? She didn’t know what her father really wanted—other than unquestioning obedience, of course.
“There’s a peerage in the other parlour somewhere,” Maria said, putting her napkin on the table. “Let us go and select a suitable…”
“Victim?” Bella suggested, managing a smile.
Chapter 18
“Lord Gilling?” Aunt Aurelia said. “I didn’t know you’d met him.”
Bella sighed—she should have broached the subject while they were still in Marstone House, but she hadn’t wanted any of the servants to overhear. Now her aunt was too busy gazing at a display of elaborate hats in a shop window.
“If Papa arranges my betrothal as soon as he arrives, he won’t need you here any longer, will he?” Bella asked. “You said he was in a hurry.”
Her aunt stared at her, an arrested expression on her face.
“And he’ll stop paying your bills,” Bella added. “I might still need a chaperone, but he could use my governess for that.” Unless Papa had turned her off.
Aunt Aurelia took her arm and walked along the street until they reached a less crowded spot. “Start again, Isabella.”
“Papa wants to see me wed as soon as possible—you told me so on the journey here.” She waited until her aunt nodded. “If there is a marquess interested in me, he might—”
“But there isn’t.”
“No, but he won’t know that. He’ll only know what you tell him. Unless he has friends who will—”
“Friends? My brother?” Aunt Aurelia grimaced. “Even if he did, they’d spend their time criticising the government, or their servants, not talking about possible suitors. Is Gilling in Town?”
“Lady Jesson says so.” Bella held her breath until a smile spread across her aunt’s face.
“I like the plan. You met while I was taking you on morning calls, I think. And you must let me know anyone else with whom you’ve conversed. The more on my list, the better.” She cast one long, regretful, look back towards the hat shop. “Let us see who is in Mrs Roper’s salon this afternoon.”
Bella looked around as she followed her aunt into Mrs Roper’s parlour—the only people she recognised were Jemima and Lord Barnton, talking together at the far side of the room. Mrs Roper came over to them, accompanied by a man of about Will’s age.
“Lady Cerney, may I introduce Sir Andrew Belton? Lady Isabella Stanlake.” She smiled and moved off to greet another new arrival.
Bella squared her shoulders and curtseyed.
“I haven’t seen you before, Lady Isabella,” he said, as Aunt Aurelia moved away. Apart from a rather long nose, his appearance was unexceptionable.
“I have been in Town only a couple of weeks, Sir Andrew.” She strove to look interested as the conversation took its usual course—whether she was enjoying her season, whether she had been to many events. The only new question was whether she rode.
“I do, but I don’t have a mount in Town at present. My father may arrange for one when he arrives.”
“Who is your father?”
“The Earl of Marstone,” Bella said, irritated to see his rather languid air sharpen as she spoke.
“If you cannot ride at present, would you care to drive with me in the park one day?”
“I would be delighted.”
Sir Andrew smiled and bowed his head before moving off to speak to someone else. Bella added him to her mental list of suitors. She found an empty sofa, and looked around as she sat down. Lady Brigham was talking to her aunt. Bella’s pulse accelerated as she wondered if Senhor da Gama had accompanied her. After what she’d seen at Vauxhall, she shouldn’t want to meet him again, but she did.
Yes, there he was, over by the window—and he was coming towards her.
“Lady Isabella, how lovely to see you again” He sat beside her, half turned so he could look into her eyes. “You are looking as beautiful as ever.”
His admiring expression was just the same, but the knowledge that he had been bestowing that same gaze on Lady Milton the night before robbed it of its usual effect. “I am happy to see you, sir.” She lowered her eyes and smiled, as if she was flattered.
“I hope you have fully recovered from our excursion,” he said.
“Why, yes, thank you.” She still wasn’t very good at starting conversations, but she recalled the guidebook she’d found in the library. “I have not been able to see much of London myself—how are you finding it? It must be similar to Lisbon in many ways.”
“Ah… I am not familiar with Lisbon, I’m afraid.”
“It is your capital city, is it not? Have you never been there?”
“My home is in the far north of the country, Lady Isabella, and my family do not care to travel to Lisbon.”
That seemed odd. If Senhor da Gama could travel all the way to London, surely he must have been able to visit his own capital city. Theresa lived in Scotland now, at her husband’s estate, but she’d met him in London.
“What is it like where you live?” she asked. Vastly different from Hertfordshire, she was sure, and it was interesting to learn about other places, no matter who was telling her.
Nick breathed a sigh of relief as he was shown into the parlour—Lady Cerney was here, so Lady Isabella would most likely be present too. He could spend a little time with Miss Roper and check on Lady Isabella without having to brave any other gatherings this afternoon. Then he swore under his breath as he spotted her—she was listening with rapt attention to da Gama.
That damned Portuguese again! What did she see in him?
He shook his head—he was here for a purpose, and Talbot might be interested in what da Gama was saying. He went to sit on an empty chair behind the sofa where the two of them were talking. The people either side of him nodded a greeting, but returned to their own conversations.
Hills… da Gama was saying something about hills.
“…more than I have seen in your England. There are vineyards on some of the countryside, but there is also good hunting for me and my brothers. My father’s house…” He paused. “House is not the right word… palacio, perhaps?”
“You live in a palace?”
Da Gama laughed. “No, not so big as that. Casa grande is a better description. Big house.”
“Oh, like Marstone Park,” Lady Isabella said.
“Is that where you live? With your brother and sisters?”
Nick frowned as da Gama’s voice sharpened.
“No, they are all married,” she said. “Theresa lives in Scotland, and Lizzie in Yorkshire. That is in the north of England.”
“And your brother?”
“He normally lives in Devonshire. But you told me he was in France, Senhor da Gama. Did you meet him there?”
Nick wondered if he had heard correctly. There was a pregnant pause, then da Gama answered.
“No, I have never been to France. Do you go to Lady Yelland’s ball tomorrow?”
“I… I believe so.”
“May I have the honour of dancing with you?”
“Thank you, yes.”
Nick caught movement from the corner of his eye—da Gama had taken his leave.
“If you wish to talk, Mr Carterton, there is now a space on this sofa.” Lady Isabella was looking over her shoulder
, regarding him with a strange expression—something between annoyance and amusement, if such a thing were possible. Embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, he hoped his face had not reddened. Damn Wingrave for putting him in this situation.
“Thank you.” He took the place just vacated by the Portuguese.
“Have you come to reprimand me again for my choice of… friends?” Lady Isabella spoke while he was still thinking how to broach the subject.
“I… er…Your brother did ask me to act in his stead while he was away.”
“In France?” Thankfully, she spoke quietly.
“Yes. But that is not commonly known. It would be better if you did not repeat it.”
She nodded, to his relief.
“Your brother, had he been in Town, would have made the same enquiries about your friend as I have.”
“He was introduced by Lady Brigham, a family friend of his,” she objected, but without the heat he remembered from the first time she’d made that point.
“There is more than one moneylender pressing Lady Brigham for repayment.”
Her expression made it clear that he didn’t need to explain the implications.
“And although the visconde he claims as his father undoubtedly exists, no-one that… none of the people of whom enquiries were made have heard of a son by that name.”
“Thank you for informing me, Mr Carterton.”
About to ask that she end her friendship with the man, Nick hesitated. She had not ripped up at him as he’d expected.
“Forewarned is forearmed,” she added. “I’m glad you are here, sir, for I have a favour to ask of you. Lady Yelland’s ball tomorrow night will be the first time I dance in public. Would you dance the first with me? Then I can concentrate on my steps without fearing I am being rude to my partner.”
“It would be a pleasure.” And it would be, albeit a silent one if she was minding her steps. He hadn’t intended to go, but how could he refuse her request?
“I would have asked Will, had he been here, but you did say you were to stand in his place.”
“I will look forward to it, Lady Isabella.” He was surprised to find himself wishing that she would look at him in the intent way she’d regarded the Portuguese earlier.
Bella followed Aunt Aurelia up the stairs, her stomach knotted in anticipation of what her father might say. Papa had gone straight to his room when he arrived, but a message to the dining room had dashed her hopes of avoiding him until the following day.
“Typical of my brother,” her aunt said again. “There is no reason why we could not have this interview after we finished dinner.”
Papa’s valet awaited them outside the door to the earl’s private suite. “Lady Cerney—”
“Send them in, Chambers. Stop blathering out there!” Her father’s voice sounded slurred to Bella’s ears.
Chambers swallowed, but did not move. “My lady, his lordship’s physician said it was imperative that he not be angered.”
Aunt Aurelia looked down her nose at the valet. “I’m sure he did. You have done your duty by informing me, so stand aside.”
The valet bowed, and they entered the room. Papa sat by the fire, his legs wrapped in a blanket despite the room being over-warm. His cheeks looked sunken, even though the rest of him was as fat as ever, and one side of his mouth drooped downwards. Bella had never seen him looking so unwell.
Aunt Aurelia took the remaining chair without waiting to be asked to sit. “Chambers, bring a chair for Lady Isabella,” she ordered.
“Damme, Aurelia, stop giving orders in my house!” The earl examined Bella from head to toe. “She appears well enough turned out—as she should be, from the amount you’ve spent. I want an accounting of your activities, and to know when I can expect to be approached about Isabella’s marriage.”
The tension in Bella’s shoulders relaxed a little. Her main worry, that Lord Narwood had already written to him about a marriage, seemed to be unfounded.
“Well, Aurelia?”
The valet arrived with a chair—it was a hard, upright chair, but as Bella sat she realised it had the advantage of allowing her to look down on her father. In spite of her determination not to submit to his wishes, she kept her back straight, her hands folded meekly in her lap.
“Isabella has a number of suitors,” Aunt Aurelia began, her eyes flicking towards Bella. She counted off the names as her aunt recited them and, in some cases, gave exaggerated descriptions of their wealth or status. If any of those men did offer for her, Papa would find out how inaccurate some of her aunt’s descriptions were—but if she was lucky that would cause further delay.
“And Isabella has only been to a few events so far,” Aunt Aurelia finished, without mentioning Lord Narwood. “There is time yet for her to make—”
“What has taken you so long? It’s weeks since she came to Town, and you’ve spent a tidy sum on her clothing. Is that all you have to show for it?”
“I hardly think more than half a dozen potential suitors is a paltry number for less than a fortnight in Town, particularly with a viscount’s heir and a marquess in their number. If you’d bothered to keep her fashionably clothed, she could have been in society for more of that time, instead of spending a week being fitted for the gowns you failed to provide. Then there is your lack of forethought in not ensuring she knows how to dance.”
“Pah, don’t make excuses, woman. If you’d done what I’m paying you for, I could have applied for a special licence and have the whole business settled within a couple of days.”
Thank goodness Aunt Aurelia hadn’t done what her father wanted.
“And write a list of these potential suitors—I need to think which you should encourage.”
“Very well.” She stood as she spoke. “Come, Isabella, let us see if our dinner is still edible.”
Bella was thankful that her aunt seemed to be following their plan, but how long could this reprieve last?
Chapter 19
Luis leant closer to the window—it was Lady Brigham entering the house. He hadn’t seen Don Felipe arrive, but Lady Brigham would not be here unless his employer was, too. Cracking open the door to the hall, he saw Mrs Hathersage escorting her to the upper room.
He pulled his coat on and glanced in the mirror over the mantelpiece to straighten his cravat, guessing that he would shortly be summoned to account for yesterday’s activities. It wasn’t long before Mrs Hathersage descended the stairs, but she headed straight for her own rooms rather than asking him to go up.
Luis scowled—he’d had enough of being ordered about like some lackey and kept in the dark about what he was doing. Slipping off his shoes, he ran up the stairs and tiptoed along the corridor. The door of Don Felipe’s room was closed, but when he crouched down to put his ear near the keyhole, he could make out some of what was being said.
“…talk with the Marstone girl yesterday afternoon. Lady Sudbury was with one of her cicisbeos in…”
“Damn fool hasn’t tried—”
“Be fair, Don Felipe. With the number of lovers that woman has, da Gama probably has to join a queue.”
Luis nodded to himself at this unexpected support. Lady Sudbury had welcomed him when he called, but he’d only been at her home a few minutes when Mr Trantor arrived to take her to the Park.
“…did you promise the boy?”
Luis muttered a curse as Don Felipe’s voice became an incomprehensible murmur—he must have moved further from the door.
“Really?” Lady Brigham’s voice carried more clearly. “Can that be done in Spain? … not possible … out of wedlock.”
“… thinks it can be, that’s what matters … irrelevant if he doesn’t do what he’s asked. We’ll get him up to explain himself in a minute, but first tell me…”
Don Felipe’s voice faded again. Luis backed away from the door and hurried back to his room. It would not do to be found on the stairs when Mrs Hathersage answered the bell.
As he put his shoes on, h
e puzzled over what he had heard. All he wanted was his rightful name and inheritance, but Lady Brigham seemed to think that was not possible. But what would she know? She was English, and surely Don Felipe would know more about Spanish law?
Mrs Hathersage knocked on his door, and he climbed the stairs once more—this time without making any effort to be silent.
“I will be calling on Lady Sudbury again tomorrow,” he reported. “I talked to Lady Isabella this afternoon, but I do not think she knows anything about Wingrave’s activities. She didn’t even know he is out of the country.”
Don Felipe tapped his chin with one finger. “Nevertheless, you will ask again. Particularly if you still have got nothing from the Sudbury woman by the time Wingrave returns from France. You will persuade her to find out what he has been doing.”
“It should not take too long to get close to Lady Sudbury,” Luis pointed out.
“True, but it may take some time for useful information to be obtained via that route. You will also start playing cards in some of the clubs I enrolled you in. I may wish you to befriend someone there, and it is better for you to be known before you approach him.”
“If I am to gamble, I will need more money. I may not always win.”
“Naturally.” Don Felipe looked down his nose. “But do not lose too much. I will give you no more than fifty guineas at this time. And you will need to keep a clear head.”
“Is that all? If so, I have a ball to prepare for.”
Don Felipe waved a hand. Luis made an effort to keep his expression bland as he left the room. It wasn’t his fault that Lady Milton had resisted his advances, and now he was to be given a new target. Don Felipe could keep giving him new tasks and finding excuses not to repay him for his efforts. And if Don Felipe had been lying to him all along, he’d been wasting his time here. How could he find someone here to consult on Spanish law without raising suspicion?
Luis closed his eyes. He could give up now and go home, before his father worked out the real reason for his absence. Or…