Courting Lord Dorney

by Sally James

  As Lord Dorney spurred forward to ride with the Dudleys Lady Andrews moved closer to Bella.

  ‘Such a pity Dorney Court is so far away, and no hostess there so that Felicity might visit for a while. But he seems to dislike it. She’s naturally anxious to see the place, you know,’ she confided. ‘Alexander is such a pleasant boy, don’t you think?’

  ‘Is he? I mean, yes of course, but I don’t know him very well,’ Bella answered, and contrived to drop back to ride with Jane.

  ‘She’s hinting her sister and Alexander are betrothed, or likely to be,’ she told Jane. ‘Clearly she sees Felicity as the future mistress of Dorney Court. I suppose Alexander’s his heir?’

  ‘So I believe. They are cousins.’

  ‘But Lord Dorney isn’t much older - it could be years before he dies and Alexander could inherit. And he might marry. Or Alexander die.’

  Jane glanced back. ‘Felicity would do better to set her cap at Lord Dorney if Dorney Court is her main objective. Though it would not serve, I’m sure. She’s far too young for him, not at all the sort of girl he seems to admire.’

  Bella nodded. ‘But Lady Andrews said he, Lord Dorney, dislikes the place. I wonder why? Do you know what happened to Lord Dorney’s brother? How did he die? Was he in the army?’

  ‘No one ever says,’ Jane replied slowly. ‘It’s odd, but they always change the subject.’

  ‘And Lord Dorney seems ill at ease whenever he’s mentioned, or his widow. I wonder what can have happened? I’ve no doubt Mrs Eversley knows.’

  ‘Don’t ask questions,’ Jane warned.

  ‘I’ll ask Lord Dorney some time,’ Bella promised, and laughed at the look of horror on Jane’s face. ‘Don’t be concerned, not yet,’ she added.

  Her resolve was severely tried during the rest of that day. It was clear that Lady Andrews knew the story, for she took several opportunities to drop hints and what could have been construed as warnings in Bella’s ear. They were mainly concerned with Lord Dorney’s reluctance to marry, and Felicity’s prospective future as chatelaine of Dorney Court.

  ‘For Lord Dorney spends remarkably little time there,’ she told Bella. ‘Alexander hasn’t more than a small house in Bath, and he has to let his mother and sisters live there. I suppose he could buy a house in London, but he’d need somewhere in the country too. I’m sure Lord Dorney would let him live there if he married. He never seems to live there himself. I understand he lives mainly in to London now, or at one of the properties his mother left him. She was quite wealthy, you know. Has he told you whether he intends to remove to London?’

  Bella tried not to reveal how shatteringly unwelcome this possibility was. She could not, in her current identity, follow him to London. Somehow the possibility that his stay in Bath was only a short one had never crossed her mind. Her plans would have to be changed if he left but, numb with shock, her brain refused to provide any solutions.

  * * * *

  They halted at midday for the alfresco meal Lord Dorney had arranged. Afterwards they strolled about the clearing in the woods, admiring the primroses which covered the ground. Alexander and Felicity Hollings disappeared along a winding path, and Bella caught Lady Andrews looking after them with a complacent smile on her face.

  Lord Dorney guided Bella along another path, explaining that it led to a slight hill from which they could look over the surrounding countryside. Bella was inattentive, wondering whether she dare ask him if he meant to move to London, and castigating herself for such uncharacteristic timidity.

  ‘Do you like this country as well as your native Lancashire?’ he asked, tucking her hand under his arm.

  ‘I like it very much, especially the hills,’ Bella forced herself to answer enthusiastically, ‘but I’ll never completely desert Tra - ‘ she stopped in confusion. She’d almost done it again.

  ‘Your home?’ he asked easily, and Bella nodded, thinking furiously.

  ‘But presumably your father will always be living there?’ he said. ‘You’ll be able to visit, when, that is, you have a home of your own. Do you have brothers or sisters?’

  ‘Oh, no, there’s only me.’ What unexpected traps her deception led to, she thought with a rueful sigh.

  She moved away, ostensibly to admire the view, and they soon turned to retrace their steps.

  The rest of the party, with the exception of Alexander and Felicity, were preparing to set off. The young people came hurriedly into the clearing after Sir John had called loudly for them, Felicity flushed and with her hair ruffled. She allowed Alexander to throw her up into the saddle without a word, just a shy smile of thanks, and then moved to ride with her sister.

  Bella was silent as they rode towards Bath in the early evening, and took little heed of the delightful countryside, fresh and green as spring advanced. Her mind was too full of questions. Had she given anything away with her unpremeditated references to Trahearne House? Had her brief explanation been sufficient? Why had Lord Dorney started that conversation? Had he been intending to say more? And most important of all, did he intend to leave Bath?

  Expecting the worst, she found herself devising wild schemes which she knew were impracticable, and was paying little attention to anything else as they rode towards the village of Colerne. When the commotion began she was totally unprepared.

  They were passing a small farmhouse, Alexander and Felicity in the lead, when a pair of dogs, wild mangy creatures, came tearing out from behind a barn and began barking furiously at the party.

  Felicity screamed, jerked on the reins, and her mare bolted. She clung desperately to the pommel, and her startled companions saw with horror that she had dropped the reins, which were in danger of tangling with the mare’s legs and bringing her down.

  ‘Hold on!’ Alexander yelled, but before he could bring his own restive horse under control Lord Dorney had passed him at a gallop, and was rapidly overhauling the runaway.

  All would have been well if the mare had not put her foot in a rabbit hole. Lord Dorney was only a few yards behind when the mare stumbled, staggered, but could not recover her balance and fell heavily.

  Fortunately the girl was thrown clear, but when the rest of the party arrived to find Lord Dorney bending over her, she was ominously still.

  ‘Felicity! Oh, my God, is she dead?’ Alexander exclaimed.

  ‘Of course not!’ Lord Dorney snapped. ‘Stop panicking and see to the mare. Leave the girl to her sister,’ he added, and Alexander backed away at the tone of command.

  To their relief Felicity soon began to stir, weeping and complaining her head hurt. When her sister tried to help her into a sitting position the child, for she was little more, gave a moan of agony and swooned again. Lord Dorney frowned and looked at her more closely.

  ‘Her arm may be broken. I think it’s nothing worse. Alexander, go into the village and find a hurdle or a gate we can carry her on, and blankets. Sir John, will you ask at the inn who is the nearest doctor and ride for him?’

  ‘Can I help?’ a new voice broke in over the lamentations of Alexander and Lady Andrews, and Lord Dorney glanced up to find a lady, accompanied by a groom, approaching.

  ‘I was riding the other way and saw what happened. Those wretched animals should be better controlled. But Wally here can ride for the doctor, and my house is just beyond those trees. She’ll be more comfortable there than at the inn. If two of you come with me I can give you a hurdle, and I’ll make a room ready.’

  ‘Ma’am, my grateful thanks,’ Lord Dorney smiled at her, but with a brisk nod she had turned and ridden swiftly away towards the trees. Alexander and Sir John had to mount hurriedly and set their horses to a gallop in order to follow.

  By the time they returned Felicity had recovered her wits and was being comforted by a rather tearful Lady Andrews. Bella and Jane had dismounted and were waiting at a little distance with the Mrs Dudley, while Lord Dorney and Mr Dudley were leading the mare slowly up and down and examining her to make certain she had no injuries other t
han a few scratches.

  ‘She isn’t lame, fortunately,’ Lord Dorney concluded, but Felicity was far too wrapped up in her own misery to be interested.

  Matters were soon arranged, with their involuntary hostess, who introduced herself as Mrs Ford, in smooth control. Felicity was installed in a large pleasant bedroom at the back of the square, stone-built house. The hastily-summoned doctor pronounced her to have a simple fracture which he soon set, and a few bruises which would fade within a day or so. Lady Andrews was invited to stay until her sister felt able to travel in a carriage.

  ‘May I offer you some refreshment before you leave?’ Mrs Ford asked the rest of the party, waiting in some embarrassment in her shabby but comfortable parlour.

  Bella inspected her with interest, admiring her calm competence. She was in her mid-twenties, tall and slender. She had pale, almost luminous skin, russet hair and huge green eyes. The black habit she wore was old and darned, but it fitted so well that in it she appeared elegant as well as startlingly beautiful.

  They accepted small saffron cakes and wine, but refused to impose so large a party on her for a more substantial meal.

  ‘It’s excessively kind of you, but we ought to return to Bath before it grows dark,’ Lord Dorney said.

  ‘I’ll come tomorrow if I may and see how the child does?’ Sir John said.

  ‘Bring her mother, and if the child isn’t well enough to return with you her mother could stay here too, I’ve far too many rooms for my own use.’

  ‘Her mother is unfortunately dead, but if I may I’ll bring my wife’s maid, who can help with the nursing if she has to stay with you.’

  So it was arranged and a rather silent, depleted party returned to Bath. Alexander had clearly wished to remain, but could find no excuse for so doing, merely making sure that the invitation to visit Felicity on the following day extended to him too.

  Mrs Dudley had attached herself to Jane, and Lord Dorney was unusually silent as he rode with Mr Dudley at the head of the party. Bella brought up the rear with Alexander, who was full of recriminations against himself for not taking better care of Felicity, threats against farmers who allowed wild dogs to harass travellers, and speculations on how soon Felicity would be restored to full health.

  Bella found him exceedingly tedious by the third repetition of his complaints and unanswerable questions. She wanted to discover from him whether his cousin had any intention of removing to London. It was not a question she could ask without an appropriate opportunity, but her attempts to direct the conversation in that way foundered on Alexander’s self-absorption.

  Chapter 6

  ‘So please will you ask around for me?’ she said to Jane as they sat at breakfast the next day.

  Jane promised to do what she could, as discreetly as possible, and Bella had to be content.

  Felicity returned to Bath a few days later. Jane and Bella met Mrs Ford, dressed this time in a stylish black pelisse, the same day while she was shopping in Milsom Street. Mrs Ford waved in a friendly fashion.

  ‘I took the opportunity of driving in while bringing Miss Hollings home, to obtain some necessities,’ she explained.

  ‘She is better?’ Bella asked.

  ‘Pale and wan is how I would describe her, especially when young Alexander haunts the house,’ Mrs Ford laughed. ‘I shall not be sorry to have my house to myself again, since I have much to do before I go to London.’

  ‘When do you go?’ Jane asked.

  ‘In two weeks. My mourning will be over then, and my sister has invited me to stay in Mount Street for the rest of the Season. My husband died last year,’ she explained, seeing the puzzled expression on Jane’s face.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Jane said.

  ‘You need not be,’ Mrs Ford said briskly. ‘He was much older than I am, and it was an arranged match when I was barely sixteen and didn’t have the wit to refuse. I wasn’t unhappy,’ she added quickly, ‘nor did he treat me badly. I only began to realize afterwards that there ought to be something better to life.’

  She refused Jane’s invitation to return to Henrietta Street for a nuncheon, saying she had too much to do before setting off for home, and they parted with hopes of meeting again when Jane herself moved to London.

  ‘What a delightful person,’ Jane commented. ‘So sad to be widowed so early.’

  ‘She didn’t seem grief-stricken,’ Bella commented. ‘It was almost as though she couldn’t wait to be rid of her blacks.’

  ‘And they suit her so well, with her colouring. I suppose she’s looking for a more agreeable marriage now. Come, we still have to choose those ribbons for your new ballgown.’

  Soon they were deep in discussion of the relevant merits of different shades of pink. They forgot Mrs Ford, although the encounter had reminded Bella of her fears, never long dormant, that Lord Dorney might soon be going to London himself, and she urged Jane to redouble her efforts at discovering his intentions. He showed no signs of departing, however, and the next few days passed swiftly. The astonishment caused by his attentions to Bella changed to avid speculation on whether and when a betrothal would be announced. Sly hints were dropped, Mrs Eversley demanded outright to be told the truth, and Bella fumed and fretted inwardly as day after day went by. Did he intend to speak, and if so, when? For once in her life she found herself incapable of resolving her uncertainty by directly questioning someone. Even plain-speaking Rosabella Trahearne balked at the notion of asking a man if he meant to offer for her.

  * * * *

  Lord Dorney was walking towards the Abbey early one morning, when his attention was drawn to a minor disturbance. A pair of schoolgirls, clutching each other’s arms, stood watching a small, somewhat plump man dressed in breeches and a rather tight-fitting riding coat berating a lad who looked about ten years old. He held the child by the arm, and Lord Dorney was close enough to hear the words.

  ‘How many times have I told ‘ee what I’ll do if ‘ee ruins any more clothes? Well, go on, tell me!’

  The lad’s nankeen trousers were, Lord Dorney could see, muddy and torn at one knee. He was staring up into the man’s face, and the resemblance between them was obvious, despite the man’s heavy jowls and red cheeks. He was manfully trying to prevent tears from falling, but his lips were trembling.

  ‘I dain’t mean to, Pa! I tripped on summat! Please don’t thrash me! It ‘urts real bad!’

  ‘I brings ‘ee into Bath for a treat, and look how ‘ee repays me! If ‘ee ‘adn’t bin running wi’out lookin’ where ‘ee was going, ‘ee wouldn’t ‘ave tripped. I’ll teach ‘ee!’

  On the words he twisted the lad round with one hand and forced him to bend over, then lifted his other hand. Lord Dorney saw he carried a heavy cane. It came crashing down on the lad’s posterior and the child let out a wail and began sobbing and wriggling in earnest.

  As the cane was lifted again a small whirlwind rushed forward and without a great deal of surprise Lord Dorney saw Bella Trahearne grab the man’s arm and try to prevent the second blow from landing.

  ‘What the - ? ‘Ere, what do ‘ee think ‘ee’s doing? Let go, ye blasted interferin’ besom!’

  ‘I’ll let go if you stop beating him! How dare you, a great hulking brute of a man, use your strength on a child?’

  ‘It be none o’ your business what I do wi’ me own lad! Look at the mess ‘e’s made of ‘is new breeches! If you’m not careful I’ll be thrashin’ you next!’

  Lord Dorney moved closer, but before he could reach them a small crowd of people coming from a service in the Abbey had begun to hover, wondering what the commotion was about, and the man began to bluster. One of the schoolgirls, glancing uneasily at the interested spectators, moved forward.

  ‘Pa. let’s go! Do come on, let’s go home!’

  He glanced round and his cheeks became even redder. ‘See what ye’ve done!’ he hissed at the lad, who was crouched in a miserable heap at his feet, sobbing and rubbing at his injured behind. ‘Caused a blasted fuss, ‘e
e ‘ave!’

  Bella was delving into her reticule. She tugged out a purse and took some coins from it, which she handed to the older of the two girls.

  ‘Here, make sure your brother gets some new breeches,’ she said. ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘Brimmer’s farm, miss, on the Bristol road,’ she stammered, too overawed to ignore the note of authority in Bella’s voice.

  ‘Well, I’ll come and see you one day, and I’ll want to make certain your brother has his new breeches, and that money hasn’t been spent on drink,’ she added, turning to the man.

  Glaring at the spectators, he grabbed the lad by the arm, yanked him to his feet, and marched away. The two girls scurried after them, and the small crowd began to disperse. Opinion, as far as Lord Dorney could overhear, seemed equally divided into admiration for Bella’s action, and disapproval of her interfering between a man and his son.

  She herself turned away, and at that moment saw him. She blushed, and looked steadily into his face.

  ‘Do you condemn me?’ she asked bluntly, then sighed. ‘I may have stopped that beating, but perhaps the poor lad will get an even bigger one when they’re out of sight. I didn’t think of that. I just had to do something to save the poor lad from being hurt. Oh, how I’d like to pay back vicious brutes like that in their own coin! Then they might not be tempted to use their strength against those weaker than themselves.’

  * * * *

  As he prepared for the ball Lord Dorney wondered at his inability to leave Bath. Every day he told himself he must accept no more invitations, must reply to Dan’s letter asking when he meant to be in London, and forget the girl who had taken such a hold on his imagination.

  He was determined not to marry, after Robert’s example. He had an heir, Alexander, who looked likely to provide him with another generation soon enough. If he married and had sons it would put Alexander’s nose out of joint, but he gave his cousin credit for not being jealous in that event.