by Jayne Davis
There was enough light from the flickering flambeaux outside for Bella to make out his frown. He had not expected that answer.
“But Isabella, why did you come here if you were going to say no?”
He did sound puzzled, and she wondered if she had misjudged him.
“To find out what you really want,” she said.
“You. I want you. Have I not just said so?”
“Would you still want me if my father casts me off?”
There was a brief silence. “He would not do that. The shame of having a daughter with a compromised reputation… No, he will want us to marry.” He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself.
“No-one knows we are here,” Bella pointed out, wondering if he had arranged for someone to discover them together.
“Can I not persuade you, my lady?”
“No.” Bella spoke firmly. “Apart from anything else, I want a husband who would be faithful to me.” He made a sound of protest but she carried on talking. “It is unfashionable, I know. I cannot believe you sincere, sir, when it is only a few days since you were trying to entice Lady Milton into something improper.”
“I… How do you know about that?”
Bella sighed. Something within her had been hoping that Maria was mistaken, but he had not denied it. “Does it matter?”
“No.” He stood up. “I’m sorry, we would have dealt well together, I think. Perhaps you will walk with me in the gardens for a while? I can tell you more about my country, if you are interested.” He held his hand out as he spoke.
Bella made no move. Leaving this room was not part of her plan, nor was being alone with him. After a moment he bent and took hold of her hand.
“Come, let us walk together, and then part as friends,” he said, the too-firm grip on her hand belying his seductive tones.
Bella resisted the pull, her breath coming fast as she twisted her hand out of his grip. “No, thank you. I prefer to remain here.” She was in control here, even if he didn’t know it yet.
“You liked me well enough only a few days ago.”
“That was before—” She bit the words off. There was no point in bringing up Lady Milton again. But she did have a feeling that there was more to him than a mere fortune hunter.
“I still don’t see why you want to marry me. My father may force us to wed if we are discovered, but he won’t give you my dowry.”
“I will be part of the English aristocracy.”
“Why is that important? You are already part of the Portuguese aristocracy.”
His mouth became a straight line, and he reached towards her again. Heart racing, Bella slid away and scrambled to her feet. It was time to show her hand, but she felt safer when she had put the sofa between them. That sudden move had frightened her.
“Maria!”
He froze, then spun around at a rustle of fabric from the far end of the room. “Mierda!”
“Well, this is interesting,” Maria said as she emerged from the shadows.
“You! You have been poisoning her against me.”
“Not at all.”
Bella had to admire Maria’s calm as her friend sat down on the sofa. Her own legs felt rather wobbly.
“Come and sit down, Bella. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try something when there are two of us here, and a lot of people within screaming distance.” Maria stared at Luis until he shook his head.
“Bella saw you with Lady Milton at Vauxhall,” Maria went on. “That is how she knows. Now, if anyone comes, the three of us are having a nice little talk about your homeland.” She glanced around. “I think the excuse would be more convincing if we were not sitting in the dark. Senhor da Gama, I’m sure you will find a tinderbox somewhere if you look.”
Luis turned, but headed for the door, not the fireplace.
“Oh, don’t leave, please,” Maria said. “Unless you wish me to inform the world that you are not what you seem.”
He stopped, then turned slowly back. “I am exactly who I seem,” he stated. His voice sounded overloud, to Bella’s ears. Did he have something more to hide?
Maria shrugged. “People aren’t interested in the truth. Any salacious titbit will spread. Light some candles, if you please.”
There was a long silence, and Bella wondered if he was going to leave anyway. Then he muttered something under his breath and started to look for a tinderbox, feeling along the mantelpiece and then peering into the bookcase beside the chimney breast.
“Are you all right, Bella?” Maria asked, keeping her voice low. “Should I have shown myself earlier?”
“No,” Bella said, “I don’t think he meant to hurt me.” Only to impose his will, like other men.
“Do you wish to return to the ballroom?”
“No. It would be better if someone discovered us here, would it not?”
“Probably.” Maria smiled. “I think we might learn something more about our Portuguese friend while we wait.”
Luis found what he was looking for, and lit candles on the mantelpiece and on a sideboard near the door.
“Do sit down, Senhor da Gama,” Maria said. “You caused distress to one of my friends at Vauxhall, and tonight you have behaved in a deceitful and underhand manner with Lady Isabella. I don’t know Lady Sudbury well, but…”
Her voice tailed off as he collapsed into the chair and put his head in his hands.
“Are you quite well?” Bella asked, feeling a little sorry for him now the tables had been turned.
He sat up straight. “I meant no harm to you, Lady Isabella.”
Bella opened her mouth to protest but then closed it again. He hadn’t forced her to meet him alone, and she was using him for her own ends. That didn’t excuse his intent to ignore her refusal, but she wasn’t blameless either.
“Senhor da Gama, why are you in England?” Maria asked. “There must be similar society in Lisbon.”
Bella watched as he fidgeted in his chair. Something was nudging at her memory, something to do with ships. How odd.
“I… I wish to see the world,” he said, unconvincingly.
Not ships, but a painting of a sea battle, at the Royal Academy exhibition. He had reacted strangely when she’d said she was glad he wasn’t Spanish. And what had he said earlier? ‘I am exactly who I seem’, yet he knew so little about Lisbon. And how did he know that Will was in Paris?
She might be wrong, but she asked anyway. “What is your name, Senhor da Gama? Your true, Spanish name.”
Chapter 21
Luis stared at Isabella. How did she know? How could she know?
“You are Spanish, aren’t you?”
The other woman looked puzzled for a moment. “Ah, that could explain why you were so keen to…” She cast a quick glance at Isabella. “To befriend Lady Milton, because of her husband’s position.”
They had no proof, but that was no help. Don Felipe would not speak in his defence—he was a fellow Spaniard, and must have false papers too. Luis eyed the window, his muscles tensing. He could be across the room before either of them moved, and certainly before a scream could summon assistance.
“Senhor da Gama, I strongly suspect you are up to no good here, but I will not have you arrested if you give your word to leave England,” Lady Jesson said. “However, if you run now, I will raise a hue and cry immediately.”
It would take time for these women to persuade anyone he was worth chasing, and he could be long gone by then. But even as that thought crossed his mind, Lady Jesson unfastened her diamond necklace.
“He stole this,” she said to Isabella. “Put it in your pocket.” She turned back to him. “A reward for the return of my necklace would encourage pursuit, then we will have plenty of time to find out why you are here.”
She was right, unfortunately.
“Why do you want me to stay? Why not just have me arrested?” It took some effort not to squirm under Lady Jesson’s gaze.
“I am curious about who is paying you.”
He shook his head. “I did not come here for money. I wanted—” He stopped and drew in a deep breath. These women could still see him arrested and hanged; it was stupid to tell them everything.
“What did they promise you?” Isabella asked.
“Your chance to be part of society here in London is gone, Senhor da Gama,” Lady Jesson added. “You could repay some of the distress you have caused to Lady Isabella by satisfying her curiosity.”
What harm could it do now? They might even sympathise a little.
“My title,” he said. “The title I should have had from birth. My father was prevented from marrying my mother.”
“Ah. Born on the wrong side of the blanket,” Lady Jesson said. “So you were brought up in poverty and now you want riches.”
“I said I was not doing this for money.” Did they not listen? “No, my mother’s father gave me to foster parents. My father found me when I was only a few years old, and I grew up with his other children. But I was his first-born—I should inherit his money and title, not be fobbed off with a few vineyards with which to make a living!”
There was silence in the room for what seemed like a long time. Then Isabella spoke, her voice strained. “Senhor da Gama, did… does your father treat you well? Does he like you, or even love you?”
Luis shrugged. “Well enough. He gives me the same attention as my half-brothers and sisters.”
“You fool.” Isabella put her head in her hands, and when she looked up again tears glittered in her eyes. “I would give anything for a parent who cared about me, who regarded me as more than just a problem to be dealt with. I would rather have such a parent than a legitimate birth. And you…” She broke off with a choke. “You are already treated far better than most illegitimate children, yet you are prepared to lie and cheat and seduce for something of so little value as a title! To disinherit your brother, too. Would your father be proud of you if you succeeded?”
“Bella.” Lady Jesson put her arms around the girl. “Do not upset yourself. He is being a fool, in more ways than one. I don’t know the law in Spain, but in this country he could never inherit his father’s title.”
“That was the promise Don Felipe made,” he said, although he was becoming increasingly doubtful that Don Felipe would arrange what he’d promised even if it were possible. “He is a distant relative, and so I believed him when said he offered to…”
No, he must not say any more.
“Did you really want to marry me, Luis, or were you attempting to have some hold over me?” Isabella turned away, leaning her head on Lady Jesson’s shoulder, and guilt settled heavily in his guts. Although he would have married her, he would still have been using her for his own ends.
Don Felipe’s ends, whatever they were, did not justify this. Nor did his own wish for advancement.
“I would have treated you well,” he said, but his words were lost as Lady Jesson spoke.
“Well done, Senhor da Gama, or whatever your name is.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “That is two of my friends you have hurt within a few days.”
“I didn’t mean… I didn’t think they would—”
“It appears you didn’t think about much at all.” Lady Jesson broke off, her head turning towards the door. Now she’d stopped talking, he could hear voices in the corridor. Voices getting louder.
Nick opened the next door along the corridor, but the room was in darkness. “You’re wasting my time,” he said to Miss Yelland, no longer trying to conceal his irritation. He had spent a good twenty minutes walking around the gardens, interrupting several courting couples in the process, but there had been no sign of Isabella or da Gama. He could not ask if anyone had seen her for fear of causing the very scandal he was trying to avert.
Miss Yelland had been waiting for him when he returned to the house, and the equally annoying Miss Quinn had joined her friend. What it had to do with them he didn’t know—spite or jealousy, he supposed—but he couldn’t shake them off without making a fuss.
“They… she must be in one of these rooms, Mr Carterton. You didn’t find her in the garden,” Miss Yelland pointed out.
“She hasn’t reappeared in the ballroom,” Miss Quinn added. “I was watching out for her.”
“That is good of you.”
She smiled, his sarcasm escaping her. Had the two of them conspired to have Isabella discovered in a compromising situation?
“Try the next one,” Miss Yelland urged, walking on down the corridor.
Nick sighed. “As you wish.”
This room was occupied. The candles flickered as a cool draught blew into the corridor, but there was enough light for him to see Isabella standing near the fireplace with someone else. Lady Jesson.
“Ah, we have found them.” Miss Yelland pushed past him, her head turning as she gazed around the room. “Oh, there is no-one else here.”
“Who were you expecting to see?” Lady Jesson asked. Beside her, Lady Isabella’s lips curved into a small smile.
Nick hurried across the room to the curtains fluttering by an open door. He stepped out onto the terrace, but he couldn’t see anyone who might have just left the room.
“Thank you for assisting me, Miss Yelland,” Nick said, coming back into the room. “I’m sure you will be wanting to get back to the ballroom now.”
All four women ignored him.
“Senhor da Gama…” Miss Yelland waved a hand. “That Portuguese. I saw him coming this way soon after Lady Isabella left the ballroom.”
“How observant of you,” Lady Jesson said, her tone politeness itself.
Like Miss Quinn, Miss Yelland seemed impervious to sarcasm. “He was here, wasn’t he? That’s why the window is open.” There was a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. Nick couldn’t understand why Isabella didn’t seem concerned about the gossip these two interfering women could spread, even though Lady Jesson had been present.
“Why yes.” Isabella finally spoke, sounding surprisingly calm. “I felt a little overwhelmed—it is my first ball, you know. Senhor da Gama was entertaining us with descriptions of his home country.”
“You didn’t leave with—”
“Miss Yelland,” Lady Jesson interrupted, “before you decide to spread false rumours about Lady Isabella, I suggest you consider some of the activities you have indulged in this season that you might not wish to become common knowledge.”
Miss Yelland’s jaw dropped and she stared at Lady Jesson.
“What things?” Miss Quinn asked, turning her inquisitive gaze on her friend.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miss Yelland said, raising her chin. “Come, Celia, our assistance appears to be no longer needed.”
Miss Quinn followed her friend out of the room, casting only one curious glance over her shoulder.
“Mr Carterton, would you be so good as to order my father’s carriage?” Isabella said. “Maria will escort me home.”
“I will come with you,” Nick said. Perhaps he could find out what was going on.
“Thank you, but there is no need. It isn’t far, and there will be both a coachman and a footman with me.”
“There is every need,” Nick said, annoyed at the feeling they were keeping something from him. “Your brother entrusted your well-being to me. Now you have put yourself in a position where scandal could ruin your marriage prospects.”
Isabella smiled. “Yes, that is convenient. I do know what people might say, but Maria was with me the whole time.”
“That wouldn’t stop the likes of Miss Yelland speculating…” Nick looked at Lady Jesson. “Did I hear you threatening her? What you said could be tantamount to blackmail, in fact.”
“Is it blackmail to prevent her doing something underhand?” Lady Jesson asked. “Besides, I have no scandalous information with which to do so.”
“But you said… you implied that you had.” Isabella was looking as confused as he felt.
“Yes, I did, and now I know she does have a
secret. I don’t know what it is, but that doesn’t matter as long as Miss Yelland thinks I do know.”
“Good grief!” Nick wondered if he should introduce Lady Jesson to Talbot—their minds seemed to work in similarly convoluted ways.
“It would not do for you to escort me home, Mr Carterton,” Isabella said. “The coachman will tell my father, and he will assume you are one of my more enthusiastic suitors.”
Looking at her flushed face and determined expression, Nick felt an odd fluttering in his chest. Why shouldn’t he be one of her suitors?
“When we were dancing, Lord Narwood said he would write to my father,” Isabella went on. “If there is any useful information to be had, the matter is becoming more urgent.”
“Yes, of course, I’ll see what I can do.”
“The carriage, Mr Carterton?” Lady Jesson prompted. “Could you also inform Lady Cerney that Bella has gone home and that the carriage will return for her?”
“Very well.”
He needed to give this some thought. The idea of having Isabella as a wife was becoming increasingly attractive, but he didn’t want her to be forced into a marriage with him just to avoid Narwood. He wanted a wife who’d chosen him freely.
It wasn’t until he’d handed the two women into the coach that he wondered what Isabella had meant by saying a potential scandal might be ‘convenient’.
Luis turned into his street, but paused at the corner, unsure what to do. He brushed at the marks on his breeches from scaling the garden wall, swearing as he succeeded only in smearing the mess further.
Lady Brigham would not have reported to Don Felipe yet, and she only knew that Luis was trying to befriend Isabella. No, Lady Jesson was the problem. He was convinced that she would do as she had said, and inform the authorities if he showed his face in society again.
He might have a day or two’s grace, but Lady Brigham or Don Felipe would soon realise that he was avoiding the very places he needed to be to work on Lady Sudbury. They had bought his co-operation with a false promise; he would be even more stupid to believe they would give him any assistance to return home once he was of no further use to them.