Belle's Beau

by Gayle Buck

  Sir Marcus snorted. “That's rich, by Jove! We don't get along by half."

  Mrs. Weatherstone's composure was unruffled. "Pray come into the drawing room and we shall have tea. You must be famished after your long journey. I shall have your bags taken up to your rooms." She nodded to the butler as she took Sir Marcus's elbow and showed him the way, with Belle and Miss Bidwell coming up in the rear.

  The visitors were ushered into the drawing room and made comfortable. A tea, which fortuitously included a heavy plum cake, a favorite of Sir Marcus's, did much to improve that gentleman's disposition. Belle had not stopped talking about everything that had happened to her during the Season.

  "And what of the viscount? Am I to be honored by an introduction, puss?" asked Sir Marcus abruptly.

  "Indeed, sir! I could not ask for anything better than that you should meet him," said Belle, sending a laughing glance in her grandfather's direction. She was blushing, but she hoped that no one would take notice of her heightened color.

  "I shall send round a note to Lord Ashdon presently, requesting that he dine with us, if it is at all possible," said Mrs. Weatherstone. "We shall have Mr. Raven join us, too." She shook her head, smiling at her niece. "It is a happy day for me, Sir Marcus, when both of my beloved nieces have contracted themselves so well."

  "You have done well, madam, you and Phineas between you. I congratulate you," said Sir Marcus.

  Mrs. Weatherstone turned a surprised countenance in his direction. "Why, I am overwhelmed, Sir Marcus."

  "You never thought to have a compliment from me, I daresay," said Sir Marcus, amusement lacing his voice.

  Mrs. Weatherstone flushed, jolted out of her composure at last.

  That evening, upon being introduced to Lord Ashdon, Sir Marcus fixed the viscount with his disconcerting fierce stare, obviously taking his lordship's measure. Lord Ashdon was not at all flustered, having been the subject of just such harsh scrutinies many times before while on active duty in the army. He was actually rather amused. "Do I pass muster, sir?" he asked respectfully.

  Sir Marcus gave a nod and a sharp laugh. "You'll do, my lord."

  It was not long, however, before Sir Marcus noticed the tension in the air and wondered if there was any trouble attending his granddaughter's betrothal to the viscount. He at once taxed Mr. and Mrs. Weatherstone for the truth of the matter. When his son and daughter-in-law admitted that Lady Ashdon had proven unexpectedly against the match, Belle groaned inwardly. She well knew her grandfather's temper. She would have given worlds if her well-meaning relations could somehow have softened their bald statements.

  Of a choleric disposition, Sir Marcus at once fired up. Red-faced with anger, he bellowed, "What! Is Belle to be insulted? I'll not have it! I shall call on Lady Ashdon, and we shall see then what she has to say!"

  "Calm yourself, sir," said Mrs. Weatherstone, laying a restraining hand on her father-in-law's arm.

  Sir Marcus shook her off. "Nay, I'll not be calm, madam!" He pointed a long, bony finger at his granddaughter, who stood before the mantel staring at him. "That girl is all of my life. I'll not stand by and see her made unhappy."

  Approaching Sir Marcus, unaccustomed tears swimming in her eyes, Belle gave a chuckle. She raised one of his clenched blue-veined hands and held it between her own. She looked up into his angry countenance. "My dear sir, how can I be unhappy when I have you to champion me?"

  Sir Marcus awkwardly patted her shoulder, saying gruffly, "You've always been a good girl, Belle. I'll say that for you."

  "Sir, may I suggest that it is more properly Lord Ashdon's place to reproach his parent?" asked Mr. Weatherstone calmly.

  "Much good it would do you to reproach me, Phineas, if the shoe was on your foot," retorted Sir Marcus.

  Mr. Weatherstone smiled a little and made an ironic bow to his sire. "Quite."

  Despite Sir Marcus's biting words, however, his high color was fading. "Very well! I shall hold my peace for now."

  "Thank you, Grandfather," said Belle in some relief, letting go of his hand. She had had visions of the irascible gentleman running Lady Ashdon to ground to demand an accounting.

  "Are you capable of it, Ashdon? That is what I wish to know!" growled Sir Marcus, his bushy brows forming a solid bar over his long nose. Anger was still evident in his wintry gray eyes.

  "I can assure you, Sir Marcus, that I am taking the greatest care to resolve this unhappy circumstance."

  "You had better or you shall answer to me! Or better yet, your lady mother shall!" Sir Marcus audibly ground his teeth. "Ridiculous woman! I recall very well when she came out. They despaired of her, you know. Spots!"

  "Lady Ashdon had spots?" asked Belle, fascinated by this piece of ancient history. Her imagination was boggled at the possibility of the elegant Lady Ashdon ever having suffered such an ignoble plight.

  In the midst of everything, Lord Ashdon finally realized that there was only one possible way to completely lay to rest his mother's unreasonable bias against his betrothed. He hesitantly requested Cassandra's help, at the same time apologizing for his timing.

  "Of course I shall do anything else that I may," said Cassandra at once. "I have already sent around a note to Lady Ashdon, as you requested, my lord, explaining that it was I and not Belle whom she saw that day in the bookstore. I am so sorry that it was not enough."

  "My mother rejected what she termed an obvious ruse," said Lord Ashdon with a shake of his head. "She did not believe that she could mistake one Miss Weatherstone for another."

  "But did not Cassandra write that we were twins?" asked Belle, looking anxiously from one to the other.

  Cassandra nodded. "Of course I did." She looked at the viscount, raising her eyebrows in inquiry. "But her ladyship apparently did not believe me."

  Lord Ashdon inclined his head. "Precisely. It was too pat an answer. Her ladyship had never heard that Miss Weatherstone had a sister that was her twin. Why had she not met the other Miss Weatherstone if there was nothing to hide, et cetera."

  "Forgive me, Ashdon, but I begin to suspect that her ladyship is being deliberately obtuse," said Belle roundly.

  "Belle!" Mrs. Weatherstone admonished, shocked.

  Lord Ashdon laughed, not at all put out by the assessment. "Quite! I believe now that the only remedy is to confront her with both of you at one and the same time."

  "Well, I am certainly willing to do my part," said Cassandra.

  "Thank you! I realize that it is an untimely request for you when you and Raven are so busy with your wedding plans," said Lord Ashdon.

  Cassandra stood up. "Pray think nothing of it, my lord. It is the least that I can do for my dear sister."

  Belle embraced her sister. "Thank you, Cassandra! You do not know what this means to me," she whispered, her gaze sliding to the viscount's face.

  Cassandra hugged her back. "Don't I, indeed?"

  Chapter 25

  The following morning Lord Ashdon emerged from the carriage into the misting rain. He glanced up at the overcast sky in satisfaction. He had chosen his day well, it seemed. His mother disliked to go out in the wet and avoided it whenever possible.

  He turned to the open carriage door and solicitously handed down from the carriage the two veiled ladies who had accompanied him. They were attired in fashionable pelisses that were very nearly identical in cut and color. He smiled, saying, "If any of the neighbors catch sight of our arrival, it will no doubt give rise to a great deal of talk as I escort inside such a mysterious pair."

  One of the ladies chuckled. The other shook out her skirts, remarking, "Do you recall the last time we wore veils, Belle?"

  "Very well, indeed! It was the day that we first met at the crofter's cottage and we embarked on our masquerade," said Belle fondly.

  "I really must hear this tale in detail one day," said Lord Ashdon as he escorted his two companions up the wet stone steps of the Ashdon town house.

  "It is not very edifying, I fear," said Belle, with a small laugh.r />
  "No, it scarcely rebounds to the credit of either of us," agreed Cassandra. "We were both given a raking scold by our assorted relations."

  "Nevertheless, I suspect that I would find it well worth listening to," said Lord Ashdon. Without ringing the bell he opened the front door and ushered the ladies inside.

  "Oh, no doubt you would find it vastly amusing, Ashdon," said Belle, a thread of merriment in her voice. "If you did not think me a total baggage before, you would certainly do so after this tale was done!"

  A footman immediately hurried forward to inquire of his lordship's needs, sparing a curious glance for the viscount's unknown companions.

  "I wish nothing at the moment," said Lord Ashdon as he began stripping off his gloves.

  "And the ladies, my lord?" asked the footman. "Shall I call for refreshment?"

  "I don't think that we shall be staying long," said Lord Ashdon.

  Belle glanced questioningly toward Lord Ashdon. "Are you doubting that we shall find Lady Ashdon available?"

  Though he could not distinguish Belle's features very well through the concealing netting of the veil, Lord Ashdon thought he knew what concerned her. "It is early yet and the weather is inclement, so my mother will not have left to make her round of calls," he commented. "And perhaps her ladyship will not be in a mood to entertain us after we have seen her."

  "Oh, dear," said Belle, somewhat inadequately. She felt an unaccustomed nervousness, which she disliked very much.

  "Never mind," murmured Cassandra, reaching out to squeeze her fingers. "Everything will work out just fine. You'll see."

  A paneled door set into the wall opened, and the butler came forward in a stately manner. "My lord! We were not expecting you to return so soon."

  "Ah, Regis," said Lord Ashdon. He finished pulling off his supple kid gloves and handed them along with his damp beaver to the footman. His long coat swung as he turned with a gesture to his companions. "I have brought company for her ladyship."

  A comprehensive but impressive glance from the butler swept over the party, and he looked at the viscount. "If you will wait in the drawing room, my lord, I shall see if her ladyship is at home to visitors."

  "Never mind, Regis. I know that my mother takes her chocolate and toast in her rooms at this time of the day. I shall show myself up," said Lord Ashdon cheerfully. He was not about to be put off by the butler's ingrained training to protect her ladyship from intrusion.

  "The ladies, my lord—

  "Are coming with me," said Lord Ashdon firmly.

  "But, my lord!" exclaimed the butler, aghast. "Her ladyship will not like it, my lord!"

  Lord Ashdon did not acknowledge the butler's shocked statement but simply brushed past the obviously bewildered servant. He started up the well-carpeted stairs at a good pace, forcing his fair companions to practically run to keep up with him.

  Belle shot a glance at the viscount's determined profile and chuckled. "You are certainly very high-handed, my lord," she commented, her skirts clutched high in her gloved hand so that she did not trip over her hems while on the stairs.

  "I learned in the army that a good rush almost always carries the enemy back," said Lord Ashdon amiably.

  Belle and her sister both laughed.

  "You have a very determined gentleman, Belle," remarked Cassandra.

  "Indeed I do," Belle agreed, casting the viscount another fond and admiring glance.

  On the landing Lord Ashdon escorted the sisters to his mother's apartments. At his hard knock, the door was opened. The dresser looked out and an expression of surprise crossed her face. In a lofty voice, she announced, "Her ladyship is not in to visitors, my lord."

  "I think that she shall see me," said Lord Ashdon cheerfully. He carried the day by simply walking through the door as though it did not exist, the dresser giving way before him, but putting up an objection to the two ladies that followed in his wake. They paid no attention to the dresser's remonstrations, but pressed close behind Lord Ashdon.

  "I shall take whatever blame her ladyship hurls at you for allowing me to invade her privacy," said Lord Ashdon over his shoulder.

  When he strode into the elegantly fitted sitting room, Lady Ashdon was seated at a small table, where the remains of her meager breakfast could be seen. She was already looking toward the doorway and when she saw her son, she demanded, "What is the meaning of this, Adam?" She rose from her velvet chair, drawing her silk-embroidered dressing gown closer. She gestured imperiously. "Who are these ladies? I do not recall inviting you and your company to breakfast, sir!"

  "Nonetheless, I have come," said Lord Ashdon. He turned and gave a hand to each of his companions to draw them forward. "I have brought Miss Weatherstone and her sister, the soon-to-be Mrs. Philip Raven, with me."

  "I see!" Lady Ashdon's expression turned cold and her voice dripped ice. "You step beyond the bounds of what is pleasing, Adam. Well, I have nothing to say to any of you. I bid you good day!"

  One of the ladies stepped forward, defying Lady Ashdon's rejection. Belle watched as her sister lifted her veil and spoke to her ladyship.

  "My lady, you were angered when you saw me and my betrothed at the bookstore," began Cassandra.

  Lady Ashdon's gray eyes widened, then narrowed. "Your betrothed! Well! You are more brazen than even I believed, Miss Weatherstone!" she exclaimed.

  "You are under a misapprehension, ma'am," said Lord Ashdon in an even voice. “'This is Miss Weatherstone's sister."

  "Nonsense! It is Miss Weatherstone, who is playing a part. Adam, surely you must see that you cannot wed such a woman," said Lady Ashdon, gesturing with contempt at Belle's sister.

  "I don't care to have my sister addressed in such tones, my lady," said Belle. Her voice was level, even though she felt her temper stirred by the lady's inexcusable rudeness.

  Lady Ashdon had turned quickly when she spoke. Belle threw back her own veil and stepped forward, her face in full view of the elder woman. Lady Ashdon stared, her mouth dropping open. She looked from one lady to the other, and the strangest expression crossed her face.

  Belle smiled. "Yes, Lady Ashdon, it is quite, quite true. My sister and I are identical twins. It was Cassandra and Philip Raven you saw that day at the bookstore."

  Lady Ashdon opened and closed her mouth a time or two, but no words issued forth. Then she shook her head as a dull red color mounted into her powdered cheeks. "I very seldom admit when I make a mistake. I make so few, as you may imagine. In this instance, however, it is made shockingly plain to me that I have indeed made a grave error."

  Her ladyship stepped forward and took Belle's hands between her own. "I am so sorry, my dear. I have been very wrong about you. I am horribly embarrassed by my mistake. Can you forgive me?"

  Belle was astonished to hear sincere contrition in her ladyship's voice. "Of course I can," she said quickly. She gently pulled her hands free and hugged Lady Ashdon, which startled that haughty lady very much.

  Lord Ashdon and Cassandra stood looking on, both with smiles on their faces.

  "Well!" Lady Ashdon straightened her shoulders and turned a proud countenance to Belle's sister. She held out her hand.

  "I owe you an apology, as well, Miss Weatherstone. I beg your pardon."

  "I accept, my lady. I am only glad to have gotten things sorted out before Mr. Raven and I embark for the Continent," said Cassandra with a chuckle.

  "So am I," said Belle in a heartfelt voice. She smiled tentatively at Lady Ashdon, who had turned her gaze on her again. "It would have distressed me to have you dislike me so amazingly, my lady."

  Lady Ashdon bestowed a smile on them all. She spoke in her usual authoritative fashion. "Allow me to make amends, my dear. I shall make all right in society, for no doubt I have created some unpleasant gossip. Miss Cassandra Weatherstone, you will do me the honor of allowing me to give you and Mr. Raven a bon voyage rout on Thursday. I assure you, it will be a grand affair at which everyone who is anyone will see you and your sister together
. I think that will put an end to any lingering doubts over Miss Weatherstone's suitability to become Lady Ashdon."

  "Mr. Raven and I shall revel in your hospitality, my lady," said Cassandra graciously.

  Lady Ashdon turned to her son and her future daughter-in-law. With a smile that was actually reflected in her eyes, she said, "I shall take the other Miss Weatherstone off with me now. I wish to discuss a guest list. We must be quick to put the cards into the post. Or, no, I think it best if I have them personally delivered, don't you? Come along, Miss Weatherstone. We have much to do."

  "I am at your disposal, Lady Ashdon," said Cassandra with a smile as she followed her ladyship out of the sitting room.

  Lady Ashdon spoke sharply to her dresser, who was standing as though rooted to the carpet. "Come along! I shall have no slackers in my service!"

  "Yes, my lady!"

  As the door shut and they were left alone, Lord Ashdon turned to his betrothed. "Shall you be able to stand my mother's overbearing ways?" he asked with a smile.

  "Oh, her ladyship is nothing in comparison to my grandfather," said Belle with a shake of her head and a chuckle. "I shall undoubtedly get along with her famously."

  "And what of me?" asked Lord Ashdon, slipping his arms around her narrow waist.

  Belle felt suddenly a little short of breath. "Why, no doubt I shall get along famously with you, as well, my lord."

  Lord Ashdon laughed, just before he bent to kiss her. When he raised his head, he said with a searching look, "I am going back to the army, Belle. Will you mind it?"

  "I am already packed, my lord," said Belle with a roguish smile.

  Lord Ashdon caught her up more tightly than before. He looked down at her with an ardent light in his eyes. "I am very glad that I met you that foggy morning, Belle."

  "And I am very glad that you raced me, my lord," murmured Belle. "For you have won my heart for your prize."

  Copyright © 2000 by Gayle Buck

  Originally published by Signet (ISBN 0451201973)

  Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads