Lady Vane's Secret (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 1)

by Elizabeth Hanbury

  ‘Good gracious!’ muttered Sir Seymour, studying Lord Bramwell through his quizzing glass in alarm. ‘You must have those items cleaned at once, Bramwell; a dose of champagne blacking will work wonders on your boots.’

  ‘But I always get muddy and Mama says it does not matter at all,’ said Dominic, puzzled at Sir Seymour’s anxiety; Aesop, tongue lolling from his mouth, wagged his tail in agreement.

  ‘Can Aesop stay here, Mama?’ said Dominic. ‘He can live downstairs until we move to the country.’

  ‘I would offer to house the animal myself if I did not have house guests and a ball approaching, Lady Vane. If you can keep him in Curzon Street for a short while, I promise to send him to Chenning Court at the earliest opportunity,’ said Hal.

  ‘Mayfair is no place for a dog, and they bring on my chesty cough,’ protested Sir Seymour with a shake of his head.

  ‘Surely we do not have the room?’ said Harriet, picturing paw prints over her needlework, ‘although I must say, he looks a dear thing and would keep us company.’

  ‘Aesop needs more space that we can give him, Dominic, and we shall not be leaving London for a few weeks yet—’ began Isabella.

  ‘Please, Mama!’ begged Dominic, with an imploring glance. ‘He is so thin and hungry.’

  Hal watched as indecision shadowed her features. ‘My hunting dogs are at Chenning, Lady Vane,’ he said gently. ‘I give you my word he would be well cared for there until you chose to house him again yourself.’

  ‘Very well,’ agreed Isabella, sighing. In truth, she was glad of Lord Bramwell’s assistance in managing this unexpected situation, even though she knew it was weak of her.

  ‘Then I suppose we must move more of Lady Bingham’s china,’ murmured Harriet.

  Dominic, giving a cry of delight, ran to hug both his mother and Hal. ‘Thank you, Mama! And thank you, Lord Bramwell!’

  Hal laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘Thank you, child, for an entertaining morning.’

  Unfortunately, Aesop decided to join in this display of mutual appreciation and, placing his paws on Sir Seymour’s pristine biscuit-coloured pantaloons, reached up to lick his face.

  ‘Off!’ shrieked Sir Seymour, his quizzing glass falling from his limp fingers as he looked down in horror. ‘Mud, and on my favourite pantaloons too!’ He leapt to his feet and began rubbing vigorously at the marks with a silk handkerchief which only spread them further. Groaning in disbelief, he raised his eyes and appealed for help from a reliable source. ‘Mrs Forster, it will not do – you see they are quite ruined.’

  A smile touched the corners of Hal’s mouth: Dinny was rich enough to buy new pantaloons every day of the week if he chose to, but he seemed determined to make a great fuss of this pair. ‘Now see what you have done, Aesop,’ said Hal, addressing the dog in a severe tone. ‘Rag manners indeed!’

  ‘Can they be cleaned?’ said Isabella, struggling to maintain her composure as she caught sight of Lord Bramwell’s countenance.

  ‘The very thing,’ replied Sir Seymour eagerly, ‘but it must be done as soon as possible.’

  Harriet, who had sympathy for Sir Seymour’s plight, exclaimed, ‘Fuller’s earth! Fuller’s earth, laid over the mark and then pressed with a hot iron, is very successful. I shall write out directions for your valet while you collect your hat and gloves, Sir Seymour.’

  ‘You are too good, dear lady,’ he said, much moved. Anxious to be away before anyone else saw him in this less than perfect state of dress, Sir Seymour reminded Isabella that he had reserved a box at Drury Lane for Friday evening before hurrying out in Harriet’s wake and giving Aesop, now sprawled nonchalantly on the rug, a deprecating glance.

  When he had gone, Dominic giggled. ‘What a fuss Sir Seymour makes over a little mud, Mama! I’m sure Aesop only meant to be friendly.’

  ‘I’m sure he did, Dominic, but Sir Seymour’s clothes are very important to him,’ said his mother, a tremor in her voice.

  ‘It might have been worse, so let us be thankful,’ observed Hal solemnly.

  ‘How?’ said Dominic.

  ‘It could have been his waistcoat,’ replied Hal with a slow grin and a wink.

  Unable to contain her amusement any longer, Isabella laughed outright at this and Dominic chuckled too, until she said, ‘Go and wash your hands now, and take Aesop with you. Ask Mary to find a place for him downstairs where he cannot offend cook or anyone else. Oh, and ask one of the footmen to give him a bath – I daresay he needs one.’

  Dominic nodded and after thanking his mother and Lord Bramwell once more, he left with the dog trotting behind.

  Isabella, suddenly realizing that she and Lord Bramwell were alone, gave him a nervous glance. She was not afraid of him – she was afraid of herself. This was the moment she had been dreading and, just as she suspected, her traitorous body did not disappoint. A tingling awareness began to rush through her once more, her breathing came fast and shallow and her heartbeat hastened. Every sense seemed to dilate and heighten when he was near and Isabella looked away to cover her confusion. Her eyes fell to his Hessian boots, noting the muddy paw marks as he walked towards her. If only he were physically unattractive, or unkind, or conceited – perhaps then she might have been able to curb her response. As it was, the battle was lost. She did not know how or why, but this man was dragging her feelings and emotions inexorably back to life. ‘Th-thank you for your kindness to Dominic, Lord Bramwell,’ she stammered, finding her voice at last. ‘He enjoys your company, and you are generous to give him so much of your time.’

  ‘There is no need to thank me – Dominic is a delightful child. I hope you do not mind the dog being foisted upon you, Lady Vane; he can go to Chenning as soon arrangements have been made.’

  ‘We will manage somehow. Dominic had already been promised a puppy, although I did not think to add a dog to our household while we are in London.’ Isabella paused, then added quietly, ‘And I did not doubt your word.’

  He gave Isabella a grateful look. ‘I am glad to hear it. Your opinion of me matters a great deal.’

  ‘I worry that Dominic is becoming too attached to you,’ she admitted. ‘We must leave London soon, and he will be devastated to lose your friendship.’

  Raising his brows, he regarded her quizzically for a long moment. ‘I would never disappoint Dominic in that way. Can I ask that you trust me in this matter also? Severance of our friendship will come only from you, or from Dominic – not from me.’

  ‘Oh, please do not misunderstand – I do not think you would be deliberately unkind,’ she said, struggling to find the right words, ‘but you may tire of amusing him.’

  ‘I would do everything in my power to protect you and Dominic from distress,’ he murmured, his gaze never leaving her face. ‘You have become extremely important to me, Lady Vane.’

  ‘Oh! Pray do not say so, Lord Bramwell!’ she replied, agitated. ‘Indeed, you know nothing about me and I cannot—’ He was at her side in quick strides, placing a finger against her lips to still her speech. He was so close that Isabella was aware of the smile that touched the corners of his mouth and his glittering eyes, seemingly more piercing than usual. She felt like she was drowning in his gaze and another frisson of sensation ran through her.

  ‘Say no more now,’ Hal whispered, ‘it is too soon, but you can feel what is happening between us: I saw it in your eyes earlier. I will try to be patient for your sake – I sense you are concealing some terrible hurt or anguish – but please, do not shut me out, Isabella. I promise you will come to trust me one day and then there will be no secrets between us.’

  Stunned by his words, she gave him a wide, questioning look. Then, she tensed … he was tracing the outline of her lip with one fingertip while tilting up her chin with his other hand. He was going to kiss her and to her amazement, she could utter no protest and felt only delicious anticipation.

  He bent his head and Isabella, aware solely of Hal and the pounding of her heart, closed her eyes, but when he took her hand t
o press a soft, warm kiss into her palm, her lids flickered upwards and she exhaled on a soft sigh of disappointment.

  Lifting his head, he smiled into her eyes. ‘It was delightful to hear you laugh spontaneously earlier,’ he said huskily. ‘I shall take my leave now, but we shall meet again very soon.’

  With another lingering look, he left, leaving behind a bewildered Isabella.

  Chapter 8

  Afterwards, Isabella sat alone in her room; her emotions, repressed for six long years, were now chaotic.

  She had tried to use an ill-judged prejudice to fight her attraction to Lord Bramwell, but, having glimpsed the real man behind the reckless Corinthian that society thought him, Isabella admitted that she had failed. Through his kindness to Dominic, his sense of humour, his intelligence and his warmth, he had found his way relentlessly into her thoughts and dreams, and into her heart. Attraction jumped across the space between them like a lightning bolt whenever he came into the room. She had only known him a few weeks, but her feelings for Hal bore no resemblance to the temperate regard she had once felt for Edward Vane; it was like comparing fire with ice.

  And now she must deal with the consequences. While she might be attracted to Lord Bramwell, she was afraid to trust him. Isabella’s lack of trust had been hewn from the painful ravages of her marriage and it could not be dismantled easily, but his words today had lit a spark of hope, and she needed to discover what lay behind them. If Hal was everything he appeared to be then perhaps the prize was worth the risk. If he was not, then she must escape from London before too much damage was done, even though the thought of opening up the deepest part of her soul and thereby risking it being split asunder made her feel sick with apprehension.

  What would Hal say when he knew the circumstances surrounding Edward’s death? Would he believe her account of that fateful night, or would he judge her harshly? The terror she had endured was still vivid in her memory, as was her shock and revulsion. Touching a small scar on her right hand, a shudder ran through her – it was a tiny, but tangible reminder of those terrible hours. Isabella knew the truth and was not ashamed of it, but it would take all her courage to reveal what had happened.

  She needed to be certain that Hal was an honourable, trustworthy man; she could not afford another error of judgement because Dominic’s future also depended on her decision.

  Isabella sat with these thoughts and was so engrossed that she jumped when Mary came in to light the candles; dusk was already creeping into the room and she had not realized it had grown late.

  Across Mayfair in Half Moon Street, Lady Portland was inspecting her new gown. She twirled this way and that in front of the full-length mirror in her dressing-room, pleased with what she saw. The diaphanous cloth which sparkled in the candlelight clung to her figure, the low-cut bodice displaying her breasts to advantage. If such a gown did not break Hal’s resolve then she really was losing her touch. She watched her reflection smile artfully; she was enjoying the challenge and considered it only a matter of time before he agreed to an affair.

  She had intentionally run her hand over Hal’s arm when they met in Hyde Park and that brief contact had left her shivering with restless anticipation. Having made discreet enquiries about his movements, she had now contrived several meetings but this was not enough – she wanted to see Hal alone, somewhere she could remind him of the delights hinted at eight years ago and which were now his for the taking.

  Julia’s forthcoming ball was the talk of London and although Lady Bramwell would never send her an official invitation, Felicity planned to attend anyway with her friend Lady Cumberland. Etiquette and propriety could go to the devil if they prevented her from snatching a few moments alone with Hal.

  Portland would not notice her absence; he went to his club every evening and Felicity had even had to insist that he reserve a box at Drury Lane on Friday instead of going to Watier’s again. She would soon welcome Portland being away from home as it would provide her with more opportunities to enjoy Hal’s virile company. She smiled, this time with satisfaction, as she began to search her jewel box for a necklace and earrings to match her gown.

  ‘I wonder why Hal decided to book a box for us at the theatre?’ asked Julia, as she sat waiting for her brother in the drawing-room.

  ‘It is rather odd,’ mused Lady Bramwell. ‘He was most particular that it must be tonight too.’

  ‘Perhaps this has something to do with Isabella – Hal seems animated recently.’

  ‘I had noticed.’ Marguerite looked at her daughter and added, ‘I have also noticed that you have been subdued since Freddy’s visit.’

  Julia gave a weak smile, but said quietly, ‘We quarrelled and it was partly my fault. I – I want to apologize and have sent Freddy a note asking him to call.’

  ‘I’m afraid it must wait a little longer, Julia: Hal tells me that Freddy has gone to the Newmarket races. He was in high dudgeon, it seems, and wanted no company.’

  ‘He did not tell me he was leaving town,’ said Julia, startled at this news.

  ‘If you have quarrelled, that might explain his sudden departure.’ Lady Bramwell had a good idea of what had passed between her daughter and Mr Isherwood; Julia was a vivacious but headstrong girl and Freddy was as much in love and jealous as any young man could be. She studied Julia from under her lashes, and continued, ‘However, he will definitely be attending your ball next week. Hal made him promise to be there so you can speak to him then.’

  Julia’s expression brightened. ‘I am relieved to hear it – I dreaded hearing that he would not come.’

  Hal, who came into the room at that moment, raised his brows in surprise on seeing his sister. ‘So you are here already, Julia. I thought you would need at least another hour to finish dressing – indeed, I was sure we would miss the first act.’

  Julia was obliged to laugh. ‘Wretch! I am quite ready, as you see.’

  ‘What is a sister for, if not to tease a little?’ replied Hal, wryly. He kissed his mother on the cheek and said, ‘Do not wait up. We will be late, so you shall hear our review tomorrow.’

  ‘Enjoy your evening and take care to acknowledge everyone of our acquaintance,’ said Lady Bramwell.

  They set off for Drury Lane, and Hal was not surprised to see the crush of people there. The theatres provided another arena for social display, and the play usually came a poor second to the gossip. Hal had no time for the flirting and chatter that were, for most of the ton, an essential accompaniment to the performance, but he wanted to be here this evening after overhearing that Sir Seymour had booked a box. He was desperate to see Isabella again and also admitted that he was jealous of Dinny enjoying her company.

  Hal had suffered moments of doubt in the last two days. He meant every word that he had said to Isabella, but he was afraid that he had spoken out too soon. She might even refuse to see or speak to him again, a situation he could not bear to contemplate because she had become integral to his life. Yet he could not help declaring a little of how he felt and hoped that in doing so he had not frightened her away. Isabella was like a spring flower emerging in the sun; some terrible hurt had caused her to retreat from the world and now her feelings were slowly beginning to unfurl.

  He and Julia went through the entrance hall and climbed the elegant staircase to find their box. Chandeliers hung from the domed roof, illuminating the crowded pit and, as they took their seats and waited for the performance to begin, Julia scanned the faces among the audience. She tipped her head in acknowledgement to a few and suffered the openly admiring glances of the men in the pit before suddenly clutching Hal’s arm.

  ‘Why, there is Isabella, Harriet and Sir Seymour,’ she said in surprise, looking at a nearby box, and then smiling and waving. ‘Look, Hal! Dinny is wearing the most extraordinary pink and yellow waistcoat and his shirt points are so starched that he can hardly turn his head.’ Julia laughed. ‘He rivals our most famous dandies this evening and if he were not such a pleasant fellow, he would be a com
plete figure of fun! Oh, and Isabella looks so beautiful in that gown – but how on earth did Dinny persuade her to attend the theatre? I was never so surprised to see—’ She stopped and turned to stare accusingly at her brother. ‘You knew she would be here, didn’t you?’

  Hal gave his sister a guilty look. ‘I should have told you that there was an ulterior motive, Julia.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologize,’ she replied, eyes twinkling. ‘Isabella is the dearest girl and I am anxious to speak to her myself.’ Her expression changed when she glanced across to the occupants of the adjoining box. ‘Oh! But there is someone else here who you may not wish to see – Lady Portland and her husband are sitting next to us. We must acknowledge them, I suppose, but I hope that she will not think of coming to our box! How does she contrive to be at almost every event where we are?’ Julia acknowledged Lady Portland’s greeting before looking away quickly.

  Hal, his annoyance evident in his brooding expression and his rigid shoulders, observed Felicity Portland smiling at him seductively. Blast the woman! Had she no restraint in her manner?

  Isabella, who had been half-listening to Sir Seymour’s conversation with Harriet on the relative merits of comedies and tragedies, started in surprise when she saw Julia and Hal. She had not considered exactly what she would say to Hal when she met him again. Now he was here and would no doubt come to their box in the interval. How could she begin to explain her hopes, her fears and the state of her heart to him? She was apprehensive, yet also exhilarated at being near him once more. At least, thought Isabella, I feel alive again since meeting him, and she revelled in the sensations coursing through her as he smiled in greeting.

  Sir Seymour cut across her thoughts by announcing that the play was about to begin. Edmund Kean’s reputation as a fine Shakespearean actor was well deserved and he had been hailed as remarkable since his debut as Shylock the previous year. Isabella was surprised to discover that his stature was small, but his portrayal of tragic emotions was masterly. In spite of the magic Kean was weaving on the stage, Isabella found herself under a different spell. Her eyes wandered constantly back to Hal. Whenever he looked at her and smiled, she reciprocated and consequently spent most of the first act with a smile on her lips and fighting to contain relentless waves of desire.